GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Vol 2 - Chapter 14.2: Binding

Hileya's eyes widened slightly. "You would take responsibility? But Lady Halen might —"

"If anything, you've succeeded at making this evening far more pleasant than it could have been." Vel interrupted gently.

She seemed to consider this, her fingers tracing patterns on the porcelain cup.

"Are all the servants' children here destined to continue their parents' work?" Vel asked, changing the subject. "Do you really have any choice in your life?"

The question seemed to catch Hileya off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly as if the concept itself was foreign to her.

"Choice?" she repeated, testing the word as if tasting an unfamiliar food. "I've never... I mean, following in my parents' footsteps is expected. That's how things are in service."

"But is that what you want?"

Hileya's hands stilled around her cup, her expression shifting from confusion to something more complex—a mixture of bewilderment and caution, as if suspecting a trap.

"Want? I don't understand what you mean. It's not about wanting."

"If you could do anything else—be anything else—what would you choose?" Vel pressed gently.

Hileya's mouth opened slightly, then closed again. She looked away, toward the window where darkness pressed against the glass.

"No one has ever asked me that before," she admitted quietly. "I've never thought about... choosing differently."

She fell silent, her expression distant as if peering into possibilities she'd never considered existed.

"Is that strange?" she finally asked, looking back at Vel with genuine curiosity. "Do most people think about choices they can't have?"

Vel's heart ached at the genuine confusion in Hileya's eyes. How different their lives were—he with his knowledge and awareness of the world's systems, and she who never even considered she might have choices.

"Everyone deserves to think about what they truly want," he said quietly. "Even if it seems impossible."

Hileya tilted her head slightly, considering his words. The candlelight caught the silver strands of her hair, making them shimmer like moonlight.

"I always wanted to be useful, to not be cast aside," Hileya said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's all I ever dared to hope for."

The simplicity of her desire struck Vel deeply. Not dreams of adventure or power or even love—just to be valued, to have purpose. To not be discarded.

"Is that why you agreed to... this arrangement tonight?" he asked carefully.

She nodded, fingers tightening around her teacup. "Lady Halen said I could prove my worth. That I could secure a better position for myself if I pleased you."

Vel felt a surge of anger toward Lady Halen, masked behind his neutral expression. The manipulation ran deeper than he'd initially thought. Using this girl's desperate desire for acceptance as leverage was cruel.

He studied Hileya's features, connecting dots in his mind. Half-elven, trained in the manor, knowledge of proper etiquette and service...

A memory suddenly clicked into place. Lady Halen's words from earlier that evening: "I'd like you to meet someone who could tell you more about our history."

Was this half-elven maid what she had meant? Someone who straddled both worlds, human and elven? Someone who would have a unique perspective on the tensions between the races?

I guess life really is different depending on where you're born into, Vel thought, watching Hileya sip her tea with practiced grace despite her obvious discomfort.

"You said your parents work here," Vel said carefully. "Does that mean one of them is an elf and the other human?"

The question landed between them like a stone dropped in still water. Hileya's hands froze around her teacup, her eyes widening with surprise. Her shoulders tensed slightly, as though preparing for an attack. Clearly, she hadn't expected anyone—especially not a guest of Lady Halen's—to address her heritage so directly.

For a moment, Vel thought she might refuse to answer. Her gaze darted to the door, as if calculating her chances of escape. But then her shoulders slumped slightly, and something like resignation crossed her features.

"My mother is an elf," she admitted quietly, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire. "She's lived over sixty years, though she appears much younger to human eyes."

She paused, tracing the rim of her cup with one finger. The firelight caught the silver in her hair, making it shimmer like moonlight on water.

"My father—my true father—passed away long before I came here." A shadow passed over her features. "The man I call father now, he works in the stables... he's more of a father figure, not blood-related."

"That's interesting. Does that mean you're older than you look?" Vel asked, studying her delicate features with renewed interest.

Hileya shook her head gently, the silver strands of her hair catching the candlelight.

"No. We... half-elves grow at the same rate as normal humans, some a bit slower depending on how much elven blood is in us. But we have the same aging as humans for the most part," she explained, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the porcelain teacup.

"What about magic? I heard elves are good with magic," Vel continued, genuinely curious.

Hileya shook her head again, a flicker of regret passing across her features. Obviously, magic wasn't included in the list of maid training, as Vel had expected. Such knowledge was a privilege reserved for those at the Academy.

As the night deepened, Vel found himself sharing more than he'd intended. He told Hileya about Oakhaven's fall, the Wulfang attack, his sister Landre, the incident with Trinon—all the events that had led him here, carefully omitting the part about coming from another world.

"And that's how I ended up here, to the Academy, to this... strange party," he concluded, realizing how therapeutic it felt to simply talk about everything he'd experienced.

Hileya listened with rapt attention, occasionally asking questions or offering sympathetic nods. The conversation flowed naturally between them.

As the candles burned low, both grew tired. Hileya stifled a yawn behind her hand, trying to maintain her composure despite her obvious exhaustion.

"You should go back to your quarters," Vel suggested, noticing her drooping eyelids.

Hileya shook her head. "I cannot return to my room until morning. That's... one aspect of my duty tonight."

Vel glanced around the room, taking in the limited options. There was nothing but the bed and the two chairs they currently occupied. Hileya, with her trained maid's eye, had clearly already noted this mundane detail.

"If you don't mind sleeping on the bed together," Hileya said softly, adding quickly, "but I promise I won't do anything."

She had a point. At the very least, they should maintain appearances, to avoid compromising Hileya's position with Lady Halen.

Exhaustion from the eventful day caught up to Vel quickly. He settled onto one side of the bed, giving ample space for Hileya. Within moments, his consciousness began to drift away.

Hileya sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze locked on Vel's sleeping figure. A glint of admiration and respect shone in her eyes. She had expected a very different outcome tonight—to be used as a tool, to offer her body. Instead, she had been treated as an equal, like a human being.

"Goodnight, young master Vel," she whispered.