Chapter 13 A Problematic Personal Maid

"I'm coming in," Ciela trilled, her voice carrying a tune that filled the small space. With a gracious step, Napoleon shifted to the side and ushered her in.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Ciela's curious gaze scanned the humble abode, eagerly taking in every detail. Her eyes darted up to the ceiling, down to the floor, left to the walls, and right to the furnishings, as if committing each inch to memory. In front of her stood Napoleon's dorm room, a cozy yet spartan space that spoke to the young scholar's simple tastes.

The twin-sized bed was neatly made, its plain white sheets tucked in with precision. A small armoire, barely large enough for a handful of garments, sat in one corner, its carved doors a testament to the artistry of the era. The writing desk, occupying another nook, was cluttered with papers and books, each bearing the mark of Napoleon's studious nature.

Ciela took in the room's atmosphere, feeling as if she had been transported to another time. The warm glow of candlelight flickered across the walls, casting shadows that danced in the dimly lit space. The scent of ink and parchment filled the air, lending a scholarly ambiance to the room.

"You got a small yet pleasant room here, master," Ciela said as she turned around and faced Napoleon.

"Are you perhaps surprised about my tidiness?" Napoleon grinned. "Well too bad for you, seeing that my room is clean means that there is no reason for me to actually hire a maid. I'm actually starting to think how necessary you are."

"You're mean, Master," Ciela pouted. "A maid is not only limited to cleaning the abode of its master but to serve as a companion and confidant as well. And don't forget, I also make excellent tea." She added with a playful wink.

'As if I needed tea,' Napoleon said to himself. 'I'm more like a coffee type of person.'

"Are you going to stay here?" Napoleon asked. "You see, my dormitory is quite small and us sharing a bed is out of the question."

"Don't worry, master~! I can sleep on the floor..." Ciela's voice trailed off as she noticed the expression on Napoleon's face. He seemed hesitant, perhaps even uncomfortable at the idea of her sleeping on the floor.

"Master, it was just a joke," she said, quickly realizing her mistake. "I didn't mean to make you feel uneasy. One of my primary jobs as your personal maid is to not make you feel uncomfortable and I have failed on it. Please punish me as you see fit."

Napoleon shook his hand dismissively. "No...no, I'm not uncomfortable and you are clearly misunderstanding. I would actually let you sleep on my bed and I will sleep on the floor."

Ciela's eyes widened in surprise. "Master, that's not necessary. You don't have to sleep on the floor just because I'm here. I can manage on my own, I promise."

Napoleon shook his head. "Nonsense, Ciela. I insist. It wouldn't be proper for me to let a lady sleep on the floor while I take the bed. Besides, I don't mind sleeping on the floor. I'm used to it."

Ciela smiled, touched by Napoleon's chivalrous gesture. "Thank you, Master. You're too kind."

For Napoleon, it's best that the people must have a concept of an event in order for it to be accepted widely, especially in the era where everyone seemed so conservative and traditional.

Once he is done with that, he will present it to the French Academy of Sciences or University of Paris where he can find a wealthy patron, who would potentially fund his research, allowing him to turn the drawing to life.

Not only that, but he also planned to disprove an obsolete scientific theory about here. It's called a caloric theory, which states that heat is a substance called "caloric" that flows from hotter bodies to cooler ones. Napoleon believed that this theory was fundamentally flawed as heat is a form of energy, not a substance. What's more, it was Antoine Lavoisier who came up with it. He is popular and considered to be one of the smartest men of the time, discovering the element oxygen and silicon. Disproving his theory all the while proving his own would definitely get him some connection he needs to the scientific community of France.

But, he can't write down a single word as Ciela is standing behind him, watching him intently.

However, before he could voice out his concern, Ciela spoke.

"Master, I can't help but adore your drawing. It looked very technical like it was drawn by an engineer. Do you perhaps want to become one after you graduate?"

"No, I am pursuing a military career, Ciela. You can think of this thing as a hobby of mine."

"Eh? What is it then? May I ask?"

Napoleon hummed, pondering whether telling her what he has been up to is worth it. But then again, he felt like he could trust Ciela with this information, it's not like she is going to understand it anyway.

"It's a paper about thermodynamics. I plan to present it to the French Academy of Sciences or the University of Paris once the time is right" he said finally.

"Thermodynamics you say?" Ciela tilted her head to the side, her finger on her lips, questioning Napoleon further. "What is it?"

As expected, she would ask that.

"I'll explain to you when the time is right, for now, be silent and let me do my work, okay? Like, you can lay on the bed while I work here."

"As you wish, my master," Ciel curtsied before laying down on Napoleon's bed.

Napoleon heard her sniffing his bed sheet and pillow.

"So this is what master smells like~it smells manly and good~!" Ciela softly chuckled to herself.

Napoleon ran a hand over his face and sighed. She's not right on the head.