Myra staggered back, staring at the boy's face in shock. "Lu–Luke?!"
How was that possible? Myra had just seen the boy slide down the bannister moments ago—and now here he was, sitting in a huge room, playing with puzzles.
Am I hallucinating?, Myra wondered.
"No, you're not."
What the hell? Did she say that out loud?
She stared at the boy, who was now sitting cross-legged on the ground, looking up at her with what seemed like an amused expression.
"H-How are y-you here?" Myra stuttered, as if she were seeing a ghost.
The boy ignored her question, turning his attention back to the scattered puzzle pieces on the floor.
Myra stood still, staring at his back. Does this boy have some ability to teleport or something? she thought.
From the looks of it, the kid was clearly a Trueborn demon. And most Trueborns were known to have unique abilities. So, teleportation wouldn't be much of a surprise.
"Are you going to stand there all day?" the boy asked, snapping her out of her thoughts as he continued fitting pieces into the jigsaw puzzle.
"Umm... no," Myra replied, sounding unsure.
"Who are you, by the way?" the boy asked casually, not looking up. "Haven't seen you around before."
"I'm Myra, the new maid," she said, then suddenly remembered her task—to find the young master.
"L–Luke, do you know where the young master is?"
The boy paused and turned to face her, a confused look on his face.
"Which young master are you looking for?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.
Oh great… how was she supposed to know that? Were there multiple young masters?
"Ah... I'm not sure. The butler told me to bring him down for lunch," she said awkwardly.
The boy nodded. "You may go now. The young master will be in the dining room in a few minutes."
Myra blinked. "How ca—?" she started, but he cut her off.
"I'll inform him. You go," he said flatly.
Still unsure if she could trust a six-year-old boy, Myra nodded. What if he forgets to inform the young master? Would I be blamed?
She left the room, wearing a thoroughly unconvinced expression.
As she made her way downstairs, Myra came across Lady Florence. She smiled politely and bowed slightly, attempting to walk past.
"Hey, Myra," Florence called, strolling toward her. Myra noticed a boy behind the Lady but couldn't quite see his face.
"Mrs. Swanson," Myra greeted, giving her a quick curtsy. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Florence frowned. "Call me Florence. 'Mrs. Swanson' makes me sound old."
Myra was about to object but remembered the butler's warning and held her tongue.
"How's your first day going so far, Myra?" Lady Florence asked. "You're not having any trouble settling in, are you?"
Myra shook her head. "No, Lady Florence. I think I'm settling in quite well. Everyone's been really friendly. I'll adjust in no time."
Florence smiled. "Good. You can always come to me if you face any problems. I'll try to help you out."
"Thank you, Lady Florence," Myra replied, smiling.
"Oh! By the way, have I introduced you to my son?" Florence asked eagerly.
Her son? Myra shook her head, curiosity rising as she looked at the boy hiding behind Lady Florence's gown. He still hadn't shown his face.
"Myra, I want you to meet my son, Lucas," Florence said gently, tugging the boy forward.
Myra stood dumbstruck. This can't be happening again.
"Mamma, we've already met," the boy—Luke—said casually.
"Oh? Really?" Florence asked, ruffling his hair. "Where?"
"Just a while ago," he replied. "She saw me sliding down the Woohoo Slide and freaked out."
Florence shot her son a disapproving look. "How many times have I told you not to slide down the bannister, Luke?"
"But—it's fun," he protested.
"No, it's not fun," Florence huffed. "Next time I see you doing that, you'll be punished."
The boy pouted but said nothing. Myra, meanwhile, was trying to make sense of everything. I saw the same boy—same face, same clothes—in the room just now. What's going on? Am I going mad?
"Myra, my other s—" Florence began, but was interrupted by the butler.
The butler gave Myra a cold glare before turning to Lady Florence.
"Milady. Master Lucas," he said with a bow. "Lunch is ready."
Lady Florence nodded. "See you later, Myra," she said, walking away.
"See you later, Myra!" Luke added, grinning and mimicking his mother as he followed her.
"Where is Master Marcus?" Simon asked sternly, turning to her.
Master who?!
The way the butler was staring at her made her want to disappear. He clearly wasn't in the mood.
Myra stood silently, unsure of what to say.
"Miss Brooke, I don't have all day. Have you seen the young master or not?" he demanded.
Myra gulped and shook her head.
Simon's voice rose. "I clearly remember instructing you to inform him about lunch. And here you are, slacking off on your first day—chatting with the Lady."
Her eyes blurred with tears. So much for expecting a good start…
"Even if you're well-acquainted with the Lady, know your place," Simon said sharply. "Avoid unnecessary conversation with your employers. I don't want the other staff thinking you're getting special treatment. Trust me—that will only make things harder for you."
"Simon, what's going on here?" a voice asked from behind.
Myra looked up—and froze. It was Luke again. But… he was coming down the stairs now. Didn't he go to the dining room just now?
"Master Marcus," Simon bowed, while Myra just stared.
"Is my lunch ready?" asked the boy, who looked exactly like Lucas. But Simon had addressed him as Marcus.
Myra's brows furrowed as realization dawned on her.
There were two boys.
Identical twins.
Awesome.
"Yes, Master," Simon replied. The boy nodded and walked off without a second glance.
Simon turned back to her. "Don't disobey next time. And don't draw attention to yourself—if you want to survive." With that, he strode away.