The woman's shouts, calling for the "Young Master," went on for quite some time until she finally managed to fling the door open.
She appeared to be in her mid-twenties and was beautiful. She wore a maid's uniform that looked slightly soiled around the sleeves. The moment she saw me, she rushed forward and immediately dropped to her knees.
"Young Master, are you alright?" She scanned me repeatedly from head to toe, her gaze brimming with intense worry.
"Wh-who are you?" I recoiled as her hand reached out toward me.
I had no idea who she was. I certainly didn't know where I was, either. Looking at the state of this place, it was definitely not a hospital.
What was worse was that this woman was addressing me as "Young Master." I was nothing more than an orphan living with my grandmother in an old house. Calling me by such a title had to be some sort of sick joke.
"Young Master, do you not recognize me?" The maid sounded utterly shocked. She touched her cheek dramatically, then reached for me again with swift movements. Her hands nimbly searched my body, checking every joint and every hidden spot. I felt a surge of embarrassment as I just let her do as she pleased.
"There are no open wounds, but you have a massive lump on your head. What did the other Young Masters do to you this time?" She let out a heavy sigh of relief.
"I don't understand a word you're saying. I don't know you! And I am not a Young Master!" I explained in the simplest, most understandable language possible.
The worried look that had briefly vanished returned to her face. She stood up abruptly and gave a quick bow before easily hoisting my body up into her arms.
"L-let me down! Put me down!" I cried out in panic.
"Don't struggle, Young Master, or you'll fall and get hurt again!" she warned me.
The physical pain racking my body was now overshadowed by pure humiliation. I just wanted to hide.
I opened my eyes slightly to glimpse my surroundings and was left speechless by what I saw. The people we passed were wearing clothes I had never seen before—so ancient. I was certain such outfits were only used by cosplayers for fun.
As we passed through a set of grand doors, I saw a crystal chandelier shining brightly and beautifully. The hall we entered was vast, with two staircases curving upward on the left and right sides of the interior.
Along the walls to the left and right, there were several doors, perfectly symmetrical.
"What happened?"
I didn't see where the tall man with the perfectly curled mustache came from, but he was questioning the maid who was carrying me.
"I found the Young Master in the storehouse, and it seems something has happened, Mr. Grey."
The tall, thin man with the curled mustache—Mr. Grey—squinted at me. His face twisted with displeasure. "You brought him in from the gardens?"
"Uh, yes... yes, I just thought it best to bring the Young Master inside immediately."
From the tone of his voice, I could tell the maid carrying me was about to be in a world of trouble.