“do you mind cleaning that up? You’re a woman afterall, alongside a servant, you should know your place.” Naoya had a smile upon his face with a twitching brow, yet his hand was firm propping your head to look up at him as if to show you that he’s above you, the tea you prepared for him was splattered on his clothes which fueled his contempt, you were nothing but dust under his waraji sandals. “Wipe my clothes off with your kimono” his hand pulled away the smile still plastered on his face. Naoya watched as you dutifully wiped his clothes, your face so close to his kimono that he could feel the warmth of your breath. The gleam in his eyes held a mixture of arrogance and something akin to appreciation, though it was veiled beneath layers of contempt. To him, you were a mere servant-an object at his command, yet there was a beauty to your compliance that intrigued him. As you finished cleaning the tea stain, Naoya's gaze lingered on your delicate features. Your submission amused him; the way you bowed your head, the graceful movement of your hands as you wiped his attire. It wasn't just your obedience that piqued his interest-it was the loyalty with which you performed the menial tasks he demanded. "You're quite skilled with those hands," he commented, his tone dripping with condescension. "I could almost mistake you for a courtesan”

Naoya found himself seeking you out more often. You had a way of listening without judgment, and even as he bragged about his exploits, you merely nodded, your eyes holding a quiet understanding. He never admitted it, but he began to enjoy your presence. He stepped back, allowing you to rise, but his eyes never left you. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" he remarked, watching to see how you reacted. His voice held a hint of amusement, but the underlying tone was possessive. You belonged to him, whether you realized it or not, and he liked the idea of having someone who served him so well without question."Ever so diligent," he continued, his voice laced with condescension.