The Redo of a Novel's Villain: Moira - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Three polite knocks sounded behind the antique wooden door before opening slowly. A man in butler attire with long brown hair, brought together with a simple bow, waltzed into the room silently.
His eyes, the left a pale jade and the right an evergreen, were indiscernible as it gazed at the sleeping figure on the bed.
"Young Master," A calm yet firm voice sounded, "It's time to wake up." Usually, the young master would be awake before he came in. His still snoozing away meant that he stayed up late last night. Stifling the bubbling irritation, the butler shook the unresponsive boy. "Young Master, Sir William will be arriving in due time. If you wish to have breakfast, I'd suggest you get up."
The black-haired boy stirred before pale eyelids fluttered open, revealing blood-red pupils still sleepy. Huey looked around in confusion before the fact he regressed settled once more. He stared at the back of his butler, who had left to pick out an outfit.
"...Owen." Even if he tried, he could never forget that name. It bore his sins, a constant reminder of what he did to the victims of his most heinous crimes.
Owen Sophin, a young butler of the Astaseul duchy. He was a child from the slums fortunate enough to meet the generosity of the late duke. Taken in, named, and given a job, the man was eternally grateful to the family. Undoubtedly, he was the most loyal servant in the household, deserving of the title of head-butler. In the past, Owen would occasionally babysit him despite being a child. It must have been funny to the adults then, seeing a kid try to care for a toddler without prior experience. Although they weren't close, they weren't strangers either. One butler out of many and his reserved young master. Yet, even their simple relationship was quickly broken upon the late duke's death.
It was claimed to be a freak accident while travelling. A sudden rockfall buried the carriage, along with Harold Astaseul, alive. Subsequently, Heiden Astaseul soon arrived with his two sons in tow. Five-year-old Huey, who had become an orphan, denying, bargaining, grieving, and sobbing, was abruptly kicked to the cold and empty east wing. Confused and scared, he would sneak out searching for his new family because his mother said the family should stick together. Consequently, he bumped into the twins, who had unanimously deemed him their latest victim.
The torment was as verbal, emotional, and physical as two children could do. However, it was far too much for him then. Furthermore, upon seeing that the new duke did not care for his nephew (and worried about being punished for intercepting), the servants stayed as bystanders. Some even resorted to openly talking behind his back-treason in the Kingdom of Ecrelyn.
Everything happened so fast his young mind could hardly comprehend. All he knew was that his father was gone, and his new family was hurting him.
All except for Owen.
He did not boldly attempt to stop the bullying altogether, which was dangerous, especially considering the twins' personalities. Instead, he diverted their attention and interests, punished the servants, and did anything to end Huey's distress quicker. The brunette stuck to his duties, performing each task with much conviction, including showing deference. Despite his age, his dedication allowed him to climb up the ranks at a frightening pace.
Unfortunately, this unstable balance would flip eventually.
How a person turns out often corresponds to how they're raised. A child raised by accepting and kind parents would naturally take after them. A child raised by imperfect parents will naturally become influenced.
Then how would a just orphaned child react when thrust into a foreign life of bullying, scorn, silence, and disregard from his own family?
Taking influence from Neil and Lein, Huey expressed his bottled-up emotions through heated actions. Like his cousins did to him, he did to the servants. They never bothered to help him or even encouraged it, so why should he? His tantrums were dangerous for the servants, who couldn't fight back. It was only a matter of time before-
CRASH
Huey snapped out of his trance and back to the present. The sharp sound echoed distantly in his head. The butler was by the wardrobe, rummaging for an attire for the day.
"Yes? Young master?" The butler turned around, holding a pair of simple yet elegant attire. Huey stared at the sizeable ugly scar on the brunette's forehead to his left eye. An odd discolouration, signifying blindness. It resulted from one of his tantrums where he threw a vase at Owen. The young man was shielding a maid from his outbursts. Angered, he grabbed the closest thing and acted on impulse.
The sound of the collision was still painfully fresh in the mind.
He had regretted it. Seeing the blood spill from the servant. Whether he liked it or not, it had left a permanent mark, and he had half blinded the man.
After that day, their simple relationship flipped like a broken hourglass. After that day, his actions grew crueller, more physically, and more mentally painful, and he used his servants as test subjects for his legal designs. The wounds that littered the servant's bodies were like hot iron imprinting itself onto him in the form of guilt.
The more he acted on his misdeeds, the more Owen despised him. Although he's never worked on the feeling Huey knew. It was in the looks, the demeanour, the silence. So minuscule yet so chilling. A well-concealed threat that warned if he were to step out of line, things would not be pretty. The boy knew it was only the butler's loyalty to his father that made the man hold his hand for so long.
He did not want to experience what would happen if Owen snapped again.
Huey contemplated an answer before asking, "..What's for breakfast?"
"Egg omelet sided with fruits and coffee added with a touch of cream," Owen replied quickly and efficiently. His speed was not too slow nor too rushed.
Huey nodded before allowing Owen to help him get ready for the day.
Upon being seated by the dining table, breakfast was brought out almost immediately. Huey ate in awkward silence; the only audible sounds were the clicking of utensils. Owen and a couple of servants stood wordlessly by the walls while the rest went around doing their assigned tasks. Huey felt needles pricking at his skin due to the tension. Unfortunately, a decade spent on Earth surrounded by people far too social for their good has stripped him of his thick skin.
'Err...eating alone on such a big table feels a little..off..'
Huey stuffed a slice of melon into his mouth, deciding to ponder about something else lest the atmosphere end him.
'First of all, it seems my immune system finally defeated the poison, although my throat is still pretty sore...and all of my servants seem to hold some hostility to me..great. Amazing.' Although Huey supposed it made sense, considering how much he used to antagonize them. Frowning with guilt, he made a mental note to apologize later.
Swallowing the last piece of food, Huey left the table to prepare for his tutor lessons. Completely missing the astounding looks his servants had upon witnessing their young lord finish everything on the plate.
-*:･ﾟ*✧ -
"Good morning, Professor William." Huey greeted with a slight bow. The older man opposite him was dressed in scholarly attire. Long blonde hair tied up and forest green glasses framed a thin face. Ivon William was a scholar who graduated at the top of his class—a vigorously sought-after tutor for noble families.
"Good morning to you as well; please pull out your textbook and flip to page 171. We will be continuing from where we left off." With that, the blonde turned around to face the green board.
Huey obediently did as told, sweating. It had been far too long since he had had classes with Sir William. Fortunately, from his memories, he could vaguely remember the contents on the page were, as he had predicted, easy elementary math.
At first, it was a bit problematic academically, considering it was a new world. However, Evendale is a world resembling much of medieval Earth. The one difference was that it was heavily reliant on magic. Likewise, its inhabitants gave everything to research the phenomenon, strengthen it, increase its versatility, etc. Consequently, things like math, science, and whatnot still need to be thoroughly explored.
The raven-haired male pursed his lips and silently hummed. 'It'd be suspicious if I suddenly aced every question on this, right? I shouldn't attract any unnecessary attention yet.'
Thus, as it hurt his pride to answer elementary-grade math incorrectly, he had to avoid the suspicion. If the news that he suddenly became academically better got to his cousins, the outcome would be far from pretty.
The clock ticked, Huey deliberately stretching out the time he needed to complete the assignment. By the hour of nine, he handed them all to Sir William.
The blonde looked at the papers once before inspecting the younger male over the glasses' heavy frames.
"Better than last time." William huffed with the slightest bit of being impressed. Then, he directed Huey to more equations, and the two hours went smoothly.
"I feel like a master playing on a Smurf account..." Huey mumbled under his breath while waiting for his professor to finish packing.
Finally, the scholar hauled his bag off the desk before turning to his student. "I'll see you in the next lesson then. Have a good rest of the day, Huey."
"Thank you. I wish you a good day as well."
The two exchanged farewells before the older exited the office. With the click of the door sounding, Huey immediately melted into his chair. Maintaining proper posture and answering simple math silently for two hours was torture. How did he do it so well before?? It felt weird because Huey would be excellent just yesterday, but now it seems like Elijah's back issues have regressed with his soul.
He had half a mind to kick his legs up and fall asleep then and there, but the sudden knocking on the door forced him to scramble upright.
Owen, who had come in, did not heed the Young Master's stiff posture. After closing the door, he reported, "Young Master, the lord requests your presence at his office."
Huey furrowed his eyebrows.
"...Prepare the carriage."
"Yes." Owen bowed and left to do as told.
The estate of the dukedom was large. It is so large that a small carriage is usually needed to get around the estate. This is all thanks to Huey's great-grandfather, Melson Kilsing Astaseul. He is an extravagant and boastful man with too much wealth for his good. So what better than using it on his family's legacy?
"Quality over quantity, but I want quality in quantity."
Melson had said this before sending every family member and servant away to the fief so that he could mass renovate.
An ambitious and persistent man. Keen in the business aspect and one of the most accomplished heads of the family. Although Huey admires his great-grandfather, he doesn't know whether to praise or curse him. On the one hand, the large estate meant he could avoid his cousins, while on the other, getting to and fro takes an infuriatingly long time.
Fortunately, thanks to that time, Huey could gather himself. Beautiful structures similar in aesthetics could be seen through the window. The buildings were primarily black and white, with sharp or quadrilateral shapes taking up the majority of its build. Occasionally, there would be domes with large windows facing an elegant garden or pond.
Said gardens were vibrant—an evergreen utopia with the hedges trimmed neatly round. The flower shrubs were all white; if seen from afar, it could even be mistaken for snow. Periodically, they'd pass by an artificial lake, a small wooden bridge, or a couple of weeping willows. The light surroundings contrasted pleasantly with the buildings, rendering what would be seen as scary into an elegant palace, especially when surrounded by a sea of white peonies (with red ones grown only in the central garden).
'This would be one hell of an area and volume question..'
The impulsive thought drifted hazily through the fog of his mind. The casualty of these reveries helped soothe his nerves.
Eventually, the main building came into view, and Huey could not help but inhale shakily. Who knew that he'd meet that asshat of an uncle after death twice? Once the carriage came to a complete stop, he reluctantly made his way inside. The interior was just as he remembered, yet felt so foreign as though a thin sheet of ice had blanketed over it, chilling him to the bone. Once, a very long time ago, these halls were filled with the happy atmosphere of a loving family. He used to play in the main building and the garden with his parents. However, the memory all but exists in old dreams now.
The duo passed by a large framed painting. Intricately drawn were the refined images of his uncle and two cousins. The trio looked as noble as expected of an Astaseul, with each sporting raven black hair, but unlike their father, the twins' eyes were wine red. It's a tradition that every Duke of Astaseul must have crimson red eyes as it symbolizes the founder's legacy, power, and blessing. He had long since figured out the reason for the brothers' unprovoked harassment was because of this trait: one which they lacked and he had.
His father and uncle inherited it, but only one could succeed in the title. Heiden's succession right was practically guaranteed with being the eldest, yet the grand duke chose his younger brother, Harold.
It wasn't an understatement to say Heiden was livid. Despite his objections, the grand duke's decision was final. Harold became the Duke of Astaseul, and Heiden left for Midsolsen, a seaside region east of Ecrelyn. He only returned to inherit the duchy after Harold's passing (Huey had been far too young). Accompanying Heiden were his two sons, who bullied Huey nearly daily. Promptly after their arrival, the order for him to be kicked to the east wing was issued.
'Where I was ignored and shunned for practically all my life.'
The solitude was perfect for his villainous nature to flourish, particularly when getting away with his... experiments.
Walking past the painting, he kept going ''until he arrived at the main office (which used to be his father's). Exhaling, Huey ordered Owen to wait outside before knocking two times.
"Come in." A smooth and icy voice acquiesced behind the dark oak door.
The youth twisted the door knob and slowly opened it, revealing a sizeable deluxe office.
"Uncle, what did you wish to speak with me about?"
His uncle sat before him, a man with a lean figure, well-kept black hair, and red eyes fixed on a mountain of paperwork. He wore a black suit with silver accents and an embroidered symbol of the Astaseul duchy: a single red star surrounded by dove-like peonies.
The duke hummed.
"In a couple of months, you'll return to Glory Academy. You will be a senior then, so I expect you to behave. Remember that what you do reflects on the family as well. I do not wish to repeat past incidents." Throughout it all, the man had not once stopped to look at his nephew. Hand moving at a moderate pace along the stack of paperwork.
"..Understood." His fist was clenched.
'This motherfucker! Why is he lecturing me about saving face months before I return to the academy?! Did he make me come all this way to lecture me??'
...
'Wait.. months? Go back? I'M ALREADY A STUDENT???'
Ignorant of Huey's internal cursings, Heiden continued.
"I called you here because Marquess Nevoid will be hosting a birth celebration for his firstborn son a month from now. The Nevoid family is powerful and influential; if you dare to offend them or make a fool of the Astaseul name on that day, you should know the consequences." The silence stretched thin as the duke finished writing something. "The tailor will visit you tomorrow, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour—none of your usual tantrums. Therefore, I have informed your tutor about a slight alteration in lessons. Use this month to work on your etiquette and behaviour. Am I understood?"
"..Yes, uncle."
"Then you are dismissed."
Huey bowed his head before exiting the room in a similar meek fashion as he had entered. Closing the door with a click, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Owen stood a few feet away, gazing at him with the same fake indifference as usual.
There was a pregnant silence between the two before Huey spoke, "Let's go."
Once again, the calm yet firm voice sounded. "Yes, Young Master."
-*:･ﾟ*✧ -
Back at the east wing, Huey gathered all the servants to the foyer. The gathered people's anxiety about what their capricious young master was about to do was rolling off in waves. It spoke volumes despite the silence that permeated everywhere. Owen was incredibly terrifying, as instead of anxiety, he was giving off 'if you do anything wrong, I will cut off your legs' vibes.
Huey tapped the side of his thigh. He gulped softly before clearing his throat.
"Apologies for gathering everyone on such short notice; I've gathered everyone here because.." His gaze wandered to Owen's scar. "I am truly, deeply sorry." He bowed far too low and incredible for a noble to give to his servants.
Silence.
A deep, rattling, and unsettling silence.
Like that of a stalking predator, it is silent in its hunt for the prey until it strikes. The air was hostile. Off-putting. Huey recalled that when he was still Elijah, he had seen a documentary on a tiger—ambush hunters who cautiously stalk their unsuspecting prey from the rear. They will strike down the prey with a mighty claw or bite upon getting close enough. Huey couldn't help but compare this situation to that. This room was the tiger, and he was the prey about to be attacked.
He continued.
"I know an apology is not enough for all I've done, but I hope to redeem myself from now on in hopes of your eventual forgiveness. I am ashamed to admit that I do not know how to obtain your forgiveness; all I can do currently is beg, apologize, and cease all my past misactions. You can curse me, hate me, loathe me. I deserve it. But, I vow to the heavens above and Goddess Eelia that I am truly regretful from the bottom of my heart." He bowed lower before thin, calloused hands pushed him back up.
A maid of average build, brown hair, and blue eyes looked like she was on the verge of tears.
"Please." Her voice was a forced and angry choke-sob. "Lower your words and raise your head, Young Master."
The boy grimaced. "I'm sorry.."
"You needn't do this."
"I do; I have wounded all of you and must make amends." He shook his head.
"We don't have the right-"
"You should."
The brunette bit her lips. It is not knowing how to rebuke her master. After all, it's incredible for a noble son of a duke- to lower their head and formally apologize to servants. It's not right. It's wrong. It goes against everything the hierarchy stands for! Everyone in the room seemed to be holding back a question. Huey took the stagnant situation to proceed.
"Hit me."
The maid trembled. "What?"
"Hit me, you've all wanted to."
"I-I cannot Young Master!"
"Hit me."
A gloved hand rested on the maid's shoulders before lightly pushing her away.
Red eyes shook slightly, "Owen..?"
The man looked like his typical aloof and indifferent self, yet if one was trained, one could see the underlying edge to the lean frame of the head butler. "Young Master, asking a lady to strike their lord is impolite."
A bit startled, Huey exclaimed, "Oh. I'm sorry!" The maid waved away the apology before excusing herself back to the group. Her hands curled into a fist.
Owen watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. He contemplated slightly and questioned, "I'm curious if the Young Master would indulge my curiosity. Why did you order her to hit you?"
Huey didn't even hesitate to answer. "That's because I laid my hands on all of you before; it's only fair that I get hit back."
A frown. "...A servant must follow and obey their master. Any discipline and punishment are all warranted-"
"Even if it means scarring for the smallest of mistakes? Even if it means causing bodily harm when I am wrong?" Huey had blurted out.
Owen paused.
"Your scar. I caused it, I threw a fucking vase at you. All because I was throwing a fit. Because I was mad, you were protecting someone! I hurt the only person who stood by me back then!" Huey huffed, his breaths coming out shallow. "I know you hate me. You should! So why don't you get your justified revenge? Hit me, push me, punch me, or scar me. If a servant must obey their master, then take this as an order. Strike me."
The red eyes that used to lumber with ruthlessness were now burning with fierce determination. His Young Master, who had always been a hungry venomous snake ready to attack at any given moment, was now like a sad puppy (cat?). He found it amusing. So, keeping up his facade as a perfect butler, he said calmly yet firmly.
"Yes, Young Master."
And Huey was knocked out.