~The Queen's Butler...Arrogant~ (Charles Grey x Reader)

Chapter 3: The she-butler, a lady

A/N: just a quick lil thing, just for the convenience of myself I'll be changing your last name to 'Price', because writing (L/n) over and over again in this part is beginning to wear on my nerves and in all honesty it looks rather ugly. I hope you continue to enjoy the story though!

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Grey's POV

(Y/n) was now officially bedridden, and I didn't allow myself to leave her side as I waited for her to recover. I was worrying myself sick for her, and if I'm honest I didn't know why. Whenever she was in need of a glass of water, I was always first to the job. Same with a change in a damp towel, a bucket for her to spill her guts into, checking her temperature...I felt the need to do everything that she requested. What was wrong with me? Phipps was perfectly capable of looking after her himself but I was the one who stepped in. 

Then I came to a realization. 

(Y/n) was the one who always took care of me when I was hungry, or bored, or hurt. It was always her. Always. 

Maybe it was my turn to look after her. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the stirring of the woman in front of me in her bed, soft groans sounding from her closed mouth as her eyes clenched shut momentarily before opening. She seemed slightly surprised to see that it was me sitting at her side instead of Phipps, though I didn't blame her. Her eyes were slightly irritated, and she slowly managed to sit up all the while staring at me.

"...you're not going to ask me to cook for you, are you?" she asked in a groggy voice, myself smiling a little as I shook my head.
"No, I'm just making sure you're okay. I've barely seen you with your eyes open, and it'd be a shame if you got any worse than you already are," I explained, grabbing the cup of water I'd prepared for her on her bedside table and handing it to her. 
"Because I wouldn't be able to make you any food?" she asked, still as bitter as usual as she took the glass and down a little.
"It's more than that really. You do so much for me, why not return the favor? It's only fair," I said, bringing my legs up onto the chair I was sitting in and crossing them against each other. 
"I..." (Y/n) seemed to be at a loss for words, and her eyes wondered for a moment before returning to mine, "...you're really not just looking after me so I can cook for you again?"
"I mean, not just that factor. Your cooking's the best in the palace, so I think that it's only natural that I...but no, I feel like a jerk, I'm always pushing you to cook at inconvenient times, and perhaps I'm the reason you're sick."

She looked so surprised when I had said that. Like she was teetering between thoughts uncontrollably, confused yet filled with slight joy. I'd never seen such a look from the lady before in my life, and I myself even felt a little surprise fill my chest cavity. Once again did her eyes wonder, like she was searching for her response as if she'd be able to find it in that very room. And when she did, her eyes met mine once more, and the feeling that overcame me when she did was something that one simply could not describe.

"You really think my cooking is the best in the palace?" 

When she asked that, I couldn't help the sweet smile that played at my lips as I nodded.

"Why else would I bother you all the time for food? Not even Phipps can achieve your level of culinary genius, and I'm fairly sure that he's been in the job a while longer than you," I subtly gushed, watching as she too began to smile.
"Well...mother always urged me to strive for better in the area of cooking. She always said that if I couldn't cook well then I wouldn't be worth marrying..." her smile seemed to fade, and as did mine.

(Y/n) had never really told me much of her family, although I don't blame her for wanting to keep majority of that story in. She occasionally made references to her mother however, who was a strict, high-expectations, manipulative kind of woman. Amalphia Price. I'd only met her a few times, the first being when the Queen asked me to accompany her to visit the Price family for business inquiries, since their company 'Ander's Candy', named after (Y/n)'s great grandfather, was and still is a rival company to another by the name of Funtom Corporation and there was a lot of fuss going on that disturbed the work of the Queen's guard dog. (Y/n) was a much different person when I first met her. Her face was perfect and made up, but it was also void of any emotion. Her hair was done up with pretty clips and ribbons, and her dress was beautiful, made up of pretty pink and white frills. She looked as though she had it all, though I'm sure a mere commoner would've had it better than she did. She didn't speak, her eyes didn't move unless someone addressed her, and something as simple as the way she stood was all that was needed to upset her mother. I remember staring into her eyes from across the room, we were nearly eye level since her parents made her stand behind her as if she were a servant, and for a while she stared back too. I tried searching for anything in her eyes, anything at all. But all I could find was a broken soul, one that'd been torn too early for being only 19 years of age. God, I remember that day as if it were only yesterday....