MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 701: Mundane Effort

The morning sun’s rays filtered into the room with a gentle ease, as though they were trying their very best not to be held back by the thick curtains draped across the windows. Golden light slipped through the narrow spaces, painting soft lines across the polished floor and the vast expanse of the chamber.

Within this grand room, two beings lay in each other’s arms, entwined as though they were one and never two. Their breathing rose and fell in perfect rhythm, matching each other in a harmony that seemed almost orchestrated. To them, nothing else in the world mattered, no worries, no conflicts, no responsibilities, only the quiet comfort of one another’s presence, and the love that bound them together.

In time, the boy’s eyes fluttered open, blue irises glimmering faintly like jewels catching the morning light. They were sharp and striking in shape, yet soft in their glow. His vision, however, remained slightly blurry, remnants of sleep clinging stubbornly to him as though unwilling to release their hold. Raising one hand lazily, he rubbed his eyes, trying to brush away the lingering haze.

Gradually, Anthony’s gaze steadied, and the full features of the lavish room became clear to him: the elegant chandelier that hung proudly from the ceiling, the sprawling bed beneath him, the delicate murals decorating the walls, the carefully arranged couches, and the polished glass table set neatly to the side. All of these details rushed into his awareness within seconds, and it did not take long for his mind to calibrate and remind him of a simple fact, he was in Vega’s room.

A faint chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a smile, as a thought crossed his mind. ‘Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be sleeping in a girl’s room. And not just any room, but within her parents’ house, under their roof.’

He shook his head slightly at the boldness of it all. After all, what parent in their right mind would willingly allow a man to spend the night in the same room as their daughter? Yet, here he was, and the world had not collapsed around him. Still, he could not help but imagine Klaus’s reaction. The man must surely be burning with suppressed rage… right? The very thought drew another amused smile to Anthony’s face.

Carefully, he shifted his body, attempting to slip from Vega’s embrace without disturbing her slumber. But his efforts proved in vain. The moment he moved, Vega stirred awake, her eyelashes fluttering softly before her eyes slowly opened.

Her eyes, those ethereal, purple orbs, emerged into the world with an almost divine grace, shimmering faintly under the sun’s light. “Good morning, Ant,” she whispered, her voice sweeter than honey, more melodic than the call of morning birds, smoother than even the finest silk.

At the sound of her voice, Anthony felt as though the day had already become brighter. His lips curved naturally into a tender smile. “Morning, Vee,” he replied softly, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss upon her forehead. Then, with a careful motion, he rose from the bed, swung his legs over the side, and stood, stretching his body to savor the release of tension.

On the opposite side of the bed, Vega mirrored his action, stretching her arms with a soft smile. She moved gracefully toward the curtains, her fingers brushing lightly against the fabric. With a single push, she drew them aside, and the sun’s rays flooded the room in full force, rushing in as though eager to fulfill their morning duty. Standing by the tall window, she gazed out, her eyes sweeping across the horizon, lost momentarily in the beauty of the view.

Behind her, Anthony’s voice broke the silence. “I’m going to take a bath. Care to join me?” His tone carried both a playful edge and a casual rhythm.

Without turning to face him, Vega responded with calm detachment, her gaze still fixed ahead. “Honestly, you bathe almost every single day, like you’re some ordinary mortal,” she teased lightly, her voice steady.

Although she herself indulged in bathing on occasion, Anthony seemed almost obsessed with it, making it part of his daily routine.

“Well,” Anthony replied with a soft laugh, “I like the feeling of water flowing down my skin. What can I say?”

Without waiting for her answer, he stepped into the adjoining shower chamber. As expected, Vega did not follow. Within minutes, Anthony reemerged, water dripping lightly from his hair, a towel wrapped firmly around his waist, and another towel brushing across his head as he dried himself.

Vega, observing his mundane effort, merely shook her head. Raising one delicate hand, she bent both water and mana to her will. Instantly, every last droplet of moisture clinging to Anthony’s body and hair floated into the air, shimmering momentarily before vanishing into nothingness, leaving him perfectly dry.

Anthony glanced at her with a playful frown, though amusement lingered in his expression. “You just took away the fun, you know,” he said, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. A thought later, his universal clothing adjusted itself, shifting and rearranging until it fit him seamlessly, as though custom-tailored in that very moment.

Vega simply shook her head again, unwilling to entertain his words. To her, it was already clear, Anthony was obsessed with bathing, and nothing she said would ever change that.

Moments later, a soft knock echoed against the heavy door. Neither of them needed to guess who it was.

“Come in, Aunt Jenna,” Vega called out.

The door creaked open, and Jenna stepped inside with her usual grace. Her maid’s uniform clung perfectly to her figure, appearing as though she wore it every waking moment. Her presence carried an air of calm dignity, one that seemed both gentle and commanding at once.

“Is there anything you would specifically like for breakfast, Young Mistress?” Jenna asked in her respectful, measured tone.

“We won’t be having breakfast today, Aunt Jenna. But thank you for asking,” Vega replied, her voice even, as she pulled the curtains back to their original position.

Jenna nodded, preparing to take her leave. But before she could turn away, Anthony stepped forward, his lips curling into a polite smile. “I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself yet. Forgive the delay and any disrespect. My name is Null Anthony.”

Jenna, who had maintained a neutral expression since entering, allowed a gentle smile to touch her face. “It matters not. Every friend of the Young Mistress is always welcome here. My name is Jenna, and I welcome you to the Estate.”

Without awaiting a reply, she bowed gracefully, then stepped back, closing the door behind her with quiet ease. Her footsteps faded into the hall, swallowed by the vastness of the estate.

Normally, if an estate were teeming with countless maids and butlers, as the Null estate often was, Anthony would not have bothered to introduce himself to any of them. After all, there would simply be too many for such courtesies to matter. But, this estate was different. Here, everything was orchestrated and overseen by Jenna alone. To Anthony, failing to introduce himself to her would have been nothing short of rude.

Besides, there was something else, something unspoken. To serve Amara and Vega directly, to be entrusted so intimately with their lives, Jenna herself had to be far more than an ordinary servant. Her composure, her grace, her aura, all hinted at someone who was far more powerful than appearances suggested.

Indeed, to be trusted by those two meant that Jenna must have been absurdly, perhaps even terrifyingly, strong in her own right.

And Anthony knew better than most: in this world, strength often hid behind quiet smiles… and maid attires.