I Picked up the Slave Male Lead and Threw Him Away

Dioana was in her best mood in a long time.

 

She had been sleeping in, not eating dessert before bed, brushing her teeth, and not sneaking away when her tutor came to visit.

 

“Well, young Steren, I see you’ve been doing well in class lately, and you’re never late, so I guess you’re finally learning about the responsibilities of being an heir.”

 

Mrs Bobby, the tutor, said with pride as she watched Dioana become a model student.

 

Then Dioana squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest in a proud gesture. 

 

She puffed out her little body and showed it off, and then said in a very stern voice.

 

“Of course, ma’am. I’ve been trying to demonstrate the virtues of a good master lately.”

 

“…Masterly virtues?”

 

“Yes. The virtues of a master, because I have a slave to look after.”

 

“What, a slave?”

 

“Technically, my aunt’s slave.”

 

“…What?”

 

“He’s a very pretty boy, and his name is Puffy!”

 

“…Well, let’s get on with the lesson.”

 

The lady was afraid that if she went any deeper, the story would be too much for her to handle, so she quickly opened the textbook and began the lesson. 

 

She decided that she didn’t need to hear about slaves, puppies, or anything like that.

 

She was a woman who had been teaching the children of nobility for many years. 

 

It was this kind of behavior that had earned her her position as a tutor for so long. Not speaking up, not asking questions.

 

But a thought is a thought, isn’t it?

 

Archduchess Daphne must be quite… well, rough.

 

There was no such thing as a slave in the Manoir Empire, but it was not illegal to have one. 

 

It was not uncommon for noblemen to have a man or woman called a ‘slave’ as a mistress or concubine.

 

She composed herself and continued with the lesson.

 

With these thoughts behind her, she finished the lesson and was escorted by Dioana to the carriage in the garden.

 

“My aunt is busy today, she’s out of town on business, and she apologizes for not being able to say hello to you.”

 

“Will you tell her I thank her for her concern, my dear Steren?”

 

“Yes, I will, then goodbye. I’ll see you in my next class, ma’am.”

 

“Yes, Have a good week.”

 

Dioana tucked the hem of her dress up slightly as she had been taught by her mistress, moving her right foot in her Mary Jane shoe slightly behind her left foot.

 

The lady bowed in return, and then stepped into the carriage. Soon the carriage was circling the great fountain and heading out the gate, and out the window she could see Dioana running to someone.

 

I’ll have to tell her next class that she can’t run around like that, I thought, her eyes widening in disbelief for a moment as she fixed her gaze out the window.

 

Mrs Bobby’s head slowly snapped to face the front.

 

To her astonishment, she saw the face of the man Dioana had dubbed “Puffy” in her arms.

 

“What, is he so handsome…?”

 

He looked like something out of an ancient myth.

 

Jet-black hair, the colour of a river at night, eyes, the golden colour of rich honey, and features so deep you could see them clearly even if you were only glimpsing them from a distance.

 

Him wearing nothing but loose, ruffled point shirts which were everywhere, but were they ever so sacred and beautiful?

 

‘He’s not necessarily an Imperial.’

 

That black hair was not common in the Empire. 

 

Of course, the most uncommon thing was his appearance. I had never seen such beauty in my life.

 

She may seem like a simple governess, but she is actually the mastermind behind the creation of a socialite. 

 

All the handsome and beautiful people in the social circles had taken etiquette lessons from her.

 

In other words, there isn’t an honour or a meal in the Manoir Empire that hasn’t passed through her hands.

 

For one thing, she didn’t recognise him, so he couldn’t be of noble birth, and for another, his black hair suggested he was an Osirian.

 

‘Well, I heard there was a slave market there, so that’s where they bought him. I can’t believe they unearthed a face like that…. ‘Wait, isn’t a face like that perfect for turning a wife’s social circle upside down? I wonder what the Archduchess thinks. If she’d brought him here for mere entertainment, she wouldn’t have allowed him near her favourite neice.’

 

She clapped her hands together and muttered as if realizing something.

 

“The Archduke has a plan, after all!”

 

Daphne Steren, she seemed intent on placing the social circle in the palm of her hand.

 

That stunningly handsome man would be a social star, regardless of his status. 

 

Even if someone were to question his origins, what if she were to become his guardian?

 

It’s not any other family, it’s House Steren. 

 

A man chosen by the lord of the house! 

 

What more could a nobleman ask for?

 

Now, the social circles of the Manoir Empire were not in the best of shape.

 

Daphne Steren, a woman with a reputation for debauchery, had become the cold Northern Grand Duchess upon the death of the Grand Duke.

 

She coldly rebuffed suitors and withdrew from social life.

 

She was never one to make enemies, so there was no shortage of people trying to fill the void.

 

The Duke and Duchess of Caleb and his cousin, the Marquis of Bernard, were to become the most influential members of the social circle.

 

Moreover, Duke Caleb and Marquis Bernard were enemies of the Sterrens.

 

They seemed to want to drive a wedge between the nobility and the Sterrens.

 

Lady Bobby wasn’t the kind of bat to take sides, but what Caleb and Bernard were doing was disgusting.

 

Society was already rotten with stagnant water. 

 

A few aristocrats hold it together, and the rest of us look the other way.

 

Lady Bobby hoped that if anyone were to make a cometary appearance on the scene, it would be a member of House Steren, and no one else.

 

‘I see,’ said Lady Bobby, ‘that even the Archduke will not see those two families set up, and how interesting the social scene will be.’

 

She wished Daphne well, and looked forward to the new winds that would blow through society.

 

He’s really handsome, by the way, really, really handsome…. Where did you find such a handsome man…. Heh….

 

All the while, Mrs Bobby repeatedly praised her slave Puffy’s good looks, and marveled once again at Daphne’s discernment in finding such a man.

 

* * *

 

I ask myself dozens of times a day.

 

Am I really good at this?

 

“Here, puppy, hands!”

 

“Yes master.”

 

“Hehe, call me Dioragu, big brother!”

 

“But I’m a puppy.”

 

“Well, then, Mung! Do it, Joe!”

 

“Mmm!”

 

…Is this right, are we really doing this?

 

Dio sticks out her hand and says, “Hands!” and Puffy grins broadly as he raises his huge hand into a fist. 

 

This is it. Is this really educationally relevant, as Russell says?

 

“Only a real dog can bark in this house.”

 

“That’s right, Puppy!”

 

“Yes, I know.”

 

“My puppy is so good!”

 

“Then please give him a pat.”

 

“Woof! Tsudamtsudam!”

 

As the man squatted in front of Dioana and spoke to her like a dog looking for praise, I could only stare, speechless.

 

If Russell were in the room, I’d ask him directly, is this kid really treating people like dogs?

 

And he’s blithely saying he’s fine with being treated like a dog. It was insane. 

 

If someone sees this, they’ll think we’re a family of beans.

 

Dio must have sensed my prying eyes, because she snapped her head around to look at me.

 

Her eyes sparkled and she ran to me.

 

“Auntie! Auntie you play the puppy thing, too.!”

 

“Me, I don’t do that.”

 

“Oh! Come on, Come on! Puffy’s waiting for you!!”

 

“…Ha.”

 

Dio yanked my hand away and placed it on Puffy’s head again, not sure what the hell she was thinking. 

 

After another sip, this puppy even bows his head so that I can stroke it.

 

I can’t bring myself to join in, but I can’t avoid this tiresome situation either.

 

After some inspiration and an agreement with Dioana, I decided to take him in ‘for now’.

 

I decided to keep him as a playmate of sorts, but I would always be there when Dio and he played.

 

“Let’s name him something other than Puffy, Dioana. What kind of person names their dog Puffy, huh?”

 

“…I’m with you on that one, young lady. I think Puffy as a name is a bit….”

 

“Why? Puffy says he likes it. I’ll call him Puffy. I like Puffy! Puffy says he likes Puffy!”

 

At Dioana’s stubborn insistence, I persuaded her to let us choose the name ourselves.

 

“Me? Of course I like the name my master gave me.”

 

“See! I said Puffy!”

 

And so he was named Puffy, for real.

 

I wanted to call him Jack, or Steven, or something like that, since it’s a common name, but Dioana and even the puppy insisted on calling him Puppy.

 

“Auntie, you have no say, because I’m the puppy owner now, and you’re the former owner. I’m the current owner, and it’s too late to regret it.”

 

“That’s what she says, former owner.”

 

What is regret? Who has regrets? 

 

I’m proud of Dioana for her language skills, but I’m also a little surprised by her ability to bluff.

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