At the sound of a voice brimming with the innocence unique to children, Marsha suddenly halted in her tracks. Along with her, Mary also came to a stop, feeling a heavy weight press down on her shoulders. It was Marsha’s large, bony hand.
Gripping Mary’s shoulders firmly, Marsha shook her head resolutely.
“Don’t talk back like that in front of Lady Angela. In fact, it’s better if you don’t say a single word unless you’re spoken to. If you catch her attention the wrong way, you never know what kind of suffering you might endure, so be careful—no, be extremely careful. I’m not just trying to scare you. I’m saying this for your own good, so take it to heart, alright?”
“Yes, I will! Don’t worry, Head Maid! I’ll do my very, very best!”
Mary, still beaming, raised her voice confidently. Marsha doubted whether Mary had truly understood what she had just said. The girl was lively and had a bright personality, but…
Marsha worried about when that cheerful expression would disappear from her face. At this rate, it might happen today.
Angela had a talent for spitting on smiling faces. If Mary greeted her with that foolish grin, it would be a miracle if she didn’t get slapped.
Yet, regardless of her concerns, there was nothing Marsha could do. She felt sorry for the clueless lamb walking into the lion’s den, but there was no other maid to bring in at this point. The best she could do was give a few words of warning.
With a heavy heart, Marsha arrived in front of Angela’s door.
She already felt like she was standing before a predator’s cage, and to make things worse, the knocker was carved in the shape of a lion. Nervous, her palms became damp with sweat. She wiped them discreetly on her skirt before cautiously grabbing the knocker.
Knock, knock, knock.
She rapped on the door and waited for a response. She worried that a starving lion might leap out in search of prey.
But inside, there was no roar—no sound at all, not even a faint voice granting permission to enter.
She knocked a couple more times, but the silence remained.
“She must be asleep.”
With no response, Marsha muttered to herself.
Behind her, Mary, who had been eagerly anticipating her first meeting with the beautiful young lady, puffed out her lips. Fidgeting as if she had something to say, she finally voiced a hypothesis.
“But it’s too early to be sleeping. What if she’s so unwell that she can’t even call us in? She’s been sick since I arrived, so maybe she lost consciousness! That would be a huge problem!”
“Hmm.”
Unlike the anxious Mary, who was about to stomp her feet in worry, Marsha remained indifferent.
It was true that Angela had been unconscious for days, to the point where the servants wondered if they should prepare for her funeral. On the final day of the Duke and Duchess’s wedding banquet, she hadn’t shown herself at all, claiming she was unwell, and since then, she had been confined to her room.
However, the claim that she was truly sick didn’t quite hold up. Just five days ago, the Bilton family’s physician, Dr. Haim, had examined her and found nothing wrong.
He had only left behind a few common tonics to replenish her energy, and the servants had taken it as confirmation that Angela was merely pretending to be ill.
And wasn’t the reason for such an act obvious? After all, Yvonne, the maid she used to boss around, had just become the new Duchess.
There was no way the ill-tempered young lady could endure that in silence.
‘Tsk, what a wicked girl. She’ll get what she deserves someday.’
Everyone in the household shared the same thought, and Marsha was no exception.
However, Mary, who had only just joined the household and knew nothing of its affairs, seemed to think differently.
Seeing Marsha’s lack of concern, Mary pouted in disappointment. Then, before Marsha could stop her, she boldly knocked on the door.
Bang, bang!
It was a knock loud enough to make a noise.
Then, with a bright voice, she called out:
“My Lady, I’m coming in!”
Like a clueless puppy unaware of a tiger’s presence, Mary fearlessly swung open the door to the lion’s den.
Shocked by the sudden turn of events, Marsha’s eyes widened as she quickly scanned the room.
Please be asleep, please be asleep.
For a split second, she desperately wished for it.
But Marsha’s hopes were shattered.
“Gasp!”
Angela was sitting on the sofa, perfectly awake, reading a book.
Marsha inhaled sharply. A chill ran down her spine.
It felt as if she had seen a ghost with no legs in broad daylight.
She wanted to grab Mary and shake her, to tell her that this was what it meant to be in real trouble.
Angela, the very woman Marsha had observed and feared for so long, would never let an uninvited guest off the hook.
She might drag Mary away and beat her on the spot. If that were all, it would be a mercy. Without a doubt, Marsha would also be punished for failing to stop her.
A horrifying future played out in Marsha’s mind. Would it be best to kneel and beg for mercy right away?
As she stood frozen near the door, unable to even move a step, she heard a voice.
“I sincerely apologize for opening the door without permission, Lady Angela!”
Even in this dire situation, Mary cheerfully strode forward to Angela’s side.
“I was worried you might be unconscious from illness, so I acted out of concern! Please forgive me!”
Angela, hearing Mary’s cheerful voice so close to her, only then seemed to register that the door had been opened.
She glanced toward the entrance.
The moment her emerald-green eyes met Marsha’s, Marsha felt like ice, unable to even greet her.
That chilling gaze was terrifying.
And when it shifted to Mary, Marsha instinctively knew.
That girl is going to die today.
Angela’s lips parted.
“…Who are you?”
Mary beamed brightly, as if delighted, in response to Angela’s dry question. She clasped both hands neatly over her stomach and bowed politely at the waist.
“My name is Mary, and I will be serving you from today! Please take good care of me!”
Angela stared at the common brown-haired head bowed before her, then shifted her gaze toward Marsha, who was still standing by the door. Her eyes demanded an explanation.
Marsha’s mouth went dry as she rubbed her clasped hands together and stepped into the room. It felt like she was voluntarily walking into a lion’s jaws.
“Well, you see… since Lady Yvonne has… um… moved, you are in need of another maid, are you not?”
Marsha had almost blurted out that Yvonne had become the Duchess, but she quickly changed course. The smoothness of the sentence didn’t matter—what mattered was not provoking Angela, just as she had warned Mary earlier.
But bringing Mary here in the first place had already made that nearly impossible. Marsha could practically see the dark clouds looming inside the room.
“So you brought a little brat like that as Yvonne’s replacement?”
“I was trying to find someone suitable, but this girl insisted she wanted the position…”
Marsha trailed off in a small voice. Angela smirked, lifting one corner of her mouth in a derisive chuckle.
As if.
She could picture exactly what had happened. The maids must have scrambled to avoid taking the position, passing it off to the easiest, most gullible person they could find.
Angela’s smirk faded, her brows furrowing.
Just then—
“It is truly an honor to serve you, Lady Angela! I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”
Mary’s lively voice interrupted the brewing storm of Angela’s irritation. She was practically overflowing with enthusiasm.
Though the circumstances were suspicious, the girl’s attitude suggested she hadn’t been forced into this role.
Still, what were they thinking, bringing a child barely eleven or twelve years old to serve her? Had the head maid lost her mind? Angela shot Marsha a glare.
Before she could say anything, that overly cheerful voice rang out again.
“I will do my absolute best with all my heart!”
Angela let out a deep sigh.
That sigh weighed on Marsha’s shoulders like a thousand bricks. She gritted her teeth, feeling as though she was about to be crushed.
And then—
“Fine. Both of you, get out.”
Something surprising happened. Angela waved a hand dismissively, as if she couldn’t be bothered to deal with them.
Her tone made it clear she didn’t even want to look at them, but at least she wasn’t outright rejecting Mary. There was no reprimand for opening the door without permission either.
That stubborn young lady… What’s gotten into her? Did she eat something strange? Or is she actually seriously ill?
Marsha’s thoughts raced in all directions.
But whatever the reason, it didn’t matter.
She had just passed a hurdle she thought impossible. Clenching her damp hands into fists, Marsha rejoiced internally.
“I’ll be waiting outside, so please call for me anytime, Lady Angela!”
Dragging the excited Mary out of the room, Marsha closed the door behind them.
Then, staring at the fierce lion-shaped knocker, a single thought crossed her mind.
Has she gone mad?
Angela realized something.
Even if Kalian hadn’t told her to stay put and do nothing, she now understood that doing absolutely nothing was the best course of action.
Speaking made her hurt. Moving made her hurt even more. She couldn’t even think freely—whenever her thoughts turned aggressive, it felt like someone was squeezing her heart.
After the wedding banquet, the pain had worsened. It seemed like punishment for humiliating Yvonne and confronting Kalian.
She had eventually called for Raymond Haim to examine her, but all she got was the useless response that nothing was wrong.
“Nothing wrong? When I’m in this much pain? That quack.”
The moment she thought that, Angela clutched her chest as another sharp pain shot through her heart.
It was definitely because of the light. There was no longer any doubt.
That cursed light had spoken of thorny vines growing around her heart—and that was exactly what it felt like. Otherwise, how could she be suffering so much while a skilled physician found nothing wrong?
So she locked herself away in her room.
Even if Kalian hadn’t known what he was saying, his words had been right—avoiding people, avoiding actions, avoiding thoughts.
As long as there were no triggers, she could at least manage to survive.
The reason Angela had silently accepted such an absurdly young maid was the same.
If she lashed out at the head maid for her ridiculous decision as she normally would, the pain in her heart—just barely subdued—would likely flare up again.
Besides, a child like that would tire herself out and give up within a few days. There was no need to bother driving her out immediately.
What Angela hadn’t expected… was how effortlessly that young maid would unsettle her with every little word and action.
“My Lady, if you’re having trouble sleeping, lighting this scented candle might help. Would you like me to prepare some tea that’s good for deep sleep as well?”
It had been only three days since the maid arrived when she said this.
She spoke as if she knew everything about Angela’s insomnia.
“…….”
Lying on her pillow, Angela stared at the child in silence, as if caught off guard, before asking:
“How did you know?”
“Pardon?”
“That I can’t fall asleep easily.”
“Ah. I wanted to make sure you were sleeping comfortably, so I opened the door just a little during the early hours. But last night and the night before, you kept tossing and turning, so I thought that might be the case.”
The young maid answered clearly, then placed the scented candle on a shelf—not too close to Angela’s bed, but not too far either.
Taking out a match, she struck it and lit the candle.
Angela stared intently at the freckled face as the girl gently blew out the tiny flame of the match, having completed her task.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
