At the same time, Lily miraculously recalled whose voice that was—and bowed on reflex.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
[Good morning, Lily.]
The Duke’s greeting was gentle—something you’d expect between old friends of ten years, not two people who’d only had one real conversation.
He’s being way too nice. That’s suspicious.
Lily narrowed her eyes mentally. The cold, calculating personality of Duke Kashimir was known across the continent. Yet every time their eyes met, he smiled. Always.
She figured it out in a flash.
He’s scared I’ll quit. Must be watching my every move, trying to keep me from bolting. Well, if he wants to keep playing nice, that works for me.
Acting as if she hadn’t been startled seconds ago, Lily flashed a bright, professional smile.
“What were you saying again, Your Grace?”
[It was never this messy when I was alive.]
The ghost’s gaze drifted slightly past her.
But rather than focusing on his offhand critique, Lily zeroed in on something far more important:
He’d answered her. Directly.
Oh no. He heard me muttering about the dishes earlier, didn’t he? Ugh—note to self: shut your mouth unless you’re absolutely alone.
She silently carved that rule into her brain as she started stacking the dishes on her tray. When she picked up a mug with a delicate fuzz of blue-white mold growing on it, both she and the ghost let out a synchronized:
“Oh…”
With the collection complete, Lily hefted the tray. The ghost, watching her, stepped ahead toward the door.
He reached for the handle—
And his hand passed straight through.
Lily saw him pause—just for a second, just a faint hesitation in his back—but it was enough to catch her attention. He’d forgotten he was no longer alive and tried to open the door out of pure habit. A harmless mistake.
Or it should have been.
But then the building began to tremble—just subtly at first, like a low hum in the floorboards.
Lily’s eyes went wide.
Wait—is he seriously throwing a tantrum because he can’t open a door?! Now?!
She’d heard the rumors: the mysterious noises, shattered glass, furniture knocked over by no visible force. But still—this?
She rushed to his side, sensing that things were escalating.
His usual polite smile was gone. Completely. His lips were drawn tight, brows furrowed—not in confusion, but something close to fury.
And the shaking grew worse.
She had to get his attention. Fast.
“Your Grace, would you… like to visit the kitchen?”
His eyes flicked toward her, still dark with that stormy look. But the vibrations began to settle, just slightly.
Lily kept her voice low, mindful of the guard stationed just outside.
“I mean, I doubt you’ve ever gone before, right? And it must be dull, being alone in here all the time.”
Slowly, he nodded.
[You’re right. Being alone is…]
His voice softened, and some of the fire in his eyes faded. Lily smiled as she placed her hand on the door handle.
“Follow me.”
She led him toward the servants’ staircase. Peeking behind her, she saw the ghost trailing after her with a curious glint in his eye, looking around like he was seeing the manor for the first time.
Despite being a ghost for quite some time now, it seemed he’d never ventured into this part of the house. Probably thought it was beneath him.
He had no issue chatting with a maid, but moments like this reminded her—he was nobility, through and through.
They stopped by the kitchen, handed off the dirty dishes, and circled back the way they came.
By the time they’d returned, the ghost seemed fully composed again. He spoke, his tone lighter.
[That was… embarrassing.]
“What? Not at all, Your Grace.”
Of course, she thought it had been absolutely a tantrum—but someone had to protect the dignity of their employer, even if he was semi-transparent. So she politely denied it.
Still, he looked sheepish.
[It’s just frustrating, not being able to even help you. You’re doing a splendid job, and here I am, a burden.]
Lily tilted her head.
Help? What kind of help does he think he can offer? He’s a ghost.
The thought of him carrying anything or cleaning was honestly kind of adorable—if completely impractical.
Truthfully, his presence alone was pressure enough. Even he would have to accept that.
If he wanted to do something useful, then she had the perfect idea. And as a smart maid, she knew how to word it in a way that wouldn’t bruise his pride.
She looked up at him, earnest.
“There is something Your Grace can do for me.”
[Yes?]
“Stay well. Just… endure until the day you can recover your body. If you can do that, and remember our promise when you wake up—there’s nothing I’d want more.”
It was the kind of answer that came from the heart, unpolished but sincere. And it must’ve hit the mark, because the Duke smiled gently.
[Hearing that puts me at ease.]
Thankfully, he was a man who valued promises and contracts. Which made comforting him surprisingly easy.
They were almost at the top of the stairwell when he paused and asked:
[By the way, when you come into the main building, where do you enter from? It’s not the front door, is it?]
Lily tilted her head in confusion, prompting the ghost to clarify.
[There was no one coming through the front entrance this morning. And then suddenly, there you were. It surprised me.]
“I come in through the west side door.”
[Is that the entrance you always use?]
“Yes, Your Grace.”
That was apparently the end of his curiosity.
Back in the office, Lily resumed tidying up. Just straightening a few scattered items and wiping down the surfaces made the whole room feel noticeably brighter.
Wolfram walked in not long after, pausing for a second to look around with a faint, puzzled expression.
“…Did you clean?”
“Yes, Sir Wolfram. As the maid assigned to this office, I’ll do my utmost to maintain a pleasant and orderly environment. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
Then, with practiced formality, she gestured—both hands—toward the space where the Duke’s ghost stood.
“His Grace is here with us now.”
“I greet His Grace,” Wolfram said, without a hint of hesitation.
Of course, unlike Lily, he was addressing empty air. But he didn’t falter in the slightest.
[Raise your head.]
“His Grace says you may raise your head.”
Wolfram complied, then walked to his desk, already switching gears.
“I’ve scheduled a visit from Cardinal Alberto. If this isn’t a natural illness, it’s best to seek counsel from the temple. Just in case, I’ve also arranged for your personal physician to perform a thorough reexamination.”
The ghost nodded once.
“His Grace says he understands.”
That seemed to wrap up the medical discussion. It wasn’t as if they could expect massive progress overnight anyway.
Then Wolfram pulled out a thick bundle of papers.
“These are the compiled matters we’ve handled in your absence. After Your Grace has reviewed them, I’ll provide explanations for the issues that require your final decision.”
Apparently, the hours they worked yesterday hadn’t been nearly enough.
As he prepared to begin reading the documents aloud, Lily quietly stepped in.
“May I?”
She gestured politely, and when Wolfram gave a short nod, she took the documents and spread several sheets across the Duke’s desk. As he read each page, she would flip to the next.
It was a simple trick, but it allowed everything to move far more efficiently. And once the ghost offered her permission to sit in the assistant’s chair beside him, the work environment improved even more.
The room filled with the gentle rustle of papers.
Finally, the ghost was ready to voice his opinions. Lily leaned forward, poised to translate.
“Your Grace, I can write, if that helps. Maybe I could jot down your words and pass them on to Sir Wolfram?”
Wolfram looked up at that. His expression wasn’t exactly warm, but he didn’t argue. He lowered his gaze again in acceptance.
He might not like her personally, but he clearly understood how useful her suggestion was.
[You know how to write?]
“Yes, well… nothing too fancy. But I can manage well enough to get the point across.”
[You’re surprisingly… resourceful, Lily.]
The ghost smiled—a vague, almost awkward expression. It was clear he hadn’t expected her to be capable of something like this.
Lily, barely hiding her smug satisfaction, replied with a light laugh.
“I’m happy to be of service, Your Grace.”
He looked at her the way one might look at a peculiar little animal—curious, maybe a little impressed.
[Then I’ll leave it to you.]
Lily picked up the pen. It had been a while since she’d held one, so her grip was clumsy at first. But the thought of earning even more favor made her giddy with motivation.
Then came the silence.
The ghost said nothing. For a long time.
“…Your Grace?”
She glanced up, confused, only to find him smiling again.
[Something just came to mind.]
Something he needs…?
Lily’s brain jumped to the worst possible conclusions.
A sacrifice? A soul offering? Maybe some cursed dirt from a forsaken grave?
[Could you start with this and give it to Wolfram?]
“Uh, y-yes, of course…”
Her hand trembled a little. But as the ghost kept dictating, her confused frown deepened.
By the time she was done and standing in front of Wolfram again, she had to work hard—very hard—to convince him that the list she was holding was, in fact, a set of office supply requests the Duke wanted to leave on file.
