When I cracked my eyes open, the first thing I saw were a pair of shoes—immaculately polished, not a speck of dust on them.
My gaze drifted up slowly. Shoes, pant legs, shins, knees… and then I stopped. Head down. I didn’t want to see his face.
God forbid he was grinning from ear to ear like some horror movie ghost.
“He didn’t look like that earlier though…”
The face I’d glimpsed before collapsing flashed through my mind. Familiar. Way too familiar.
“Wait a second. I know that face. I know that face…”
A portrait. The image burst into my memory like lightning. My eyes flew wide open, my forehead still pressed to the floor.
“No way. That’s—That’s His Grace! Duke Aiden Kashimir!”
No doubt about it. I’d memorized that portrait during maid training, clear as day. The ghost looked exactly like the young master lying unconscious in the castle’s west wing.
[Look at me.]
The voice—if you could even call it that—was warped with despair and fury. Not something you’d call pleasant.
Swallowing hard, I cautiously raised my head. Yeah. It was him. Duke Aiden Kashimir, clear as day.
I tested it, voice shaky.
“D-Duke… Duke Kashimir, Your Grace.”
A faint smile curled at the ghost’s lips.
[You can see me.]
“Y-Yes, Your Grace.”
[You see me. Finally. I’m—finally…]
He kept repeating himself like a broken record. Definitely not in the best state of mind.
Not that I could blame him—if I woke up one day as a ghost, I’d lose it too.
The smile on his face deepened, bordering on manic. I could feel the joy radiating off him, almost blinding.
[What’s your name?]
“L-Lily… Lillian Dienta, Your Grace.”
I was trembling like a leaf.
[Lily.]
He dropped the formality completely, and then came the bombshell:
[Be my attendant.]
“…Huh?”
When I looked up again, he was still in exactly the same position. Unmoving. He hadn’t even blinked once since I first saw him—creepy didn’t even begin to cover it.
[I need your help.]
His voice was absurdly soft, the kind of voice that would put whipped cream to shame.
Way too sweet for a noble addressing a maid.
[Only you can see me. Only you can hear me. Lillian Dienta, you’re the only one who can help me.]
Oh god.
This was it. The day I got haunted by a ghost.
Why hadn’t I remembered the golden rule sooner? If you see a ghost, shut your eyes and plug your ears.
While I was regretting my life choices, the ghost called out to me again—in a voice so syrupy it bordered on romantic.
[Please, Lily.]
His eyes had no warmth. They looked at me like I was prey.
If it weren’t for that one detail, I might’ve actually mistaken him for being in love with me.
—
Aiden Kashimir—the young duke trapped on the boundary between life and death—had always carried a few labels.
Cold-blooded, with ice instead of blood in his veins. A brutal killer of heretics. An arrogant power monger.
But the man in front of me? He was nothing like that.
[Lillian Dienta. Only you can help me.]
Where was the coldness? The brutality? The arrogance?
All I saw was a man practically begging like a rejected noble debutante.
What could reduce the great Aiden Kashimir to this?
That bizarre night three weeks ago, when his soul was suddenly torn from his body.
One moment he was fine—then he was standing over his own unconscious body, staring down from above.
It had been the night of a new moon. Midnight. The room was dark, but somehow he could still make out everything, as if bathed in some soft, ghostly light.
He lifted his hands, inspecting them.
They shimmered faintly blue, translucent. Objects beyond them showed through in a blur.
When he glanced at the mirror—nothing. No reflection.
That’s when it hit him: this wasn’t a dream.
He’d become a spirit.
He learned a few things quickly.
He couldn’t touch anything unless he got really emotional. He couldn’t leave the estate, as if something invisible chained him there.
And thinking rationally? That only lasted so long.
Everything else… tore him apart.
Isolation. A diagnosis with no cause. The whispers and superstitions about ghosts.
And eventually, the faces around him—just waiting for his body to die.
But the worst part? The powerlessness.
He couldn’t control a damn thing.
Couldn’t investigate. Couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t even scream.
All he could do was wait… endlessly.
The fury inside him roared like wildfire. Whenever he snapped out of it, the place around him would be trashed, like he’d thrown a tantrum.
And now? He was fraying at the edges. Numb. Hopeless.
Drowning in his own despair.
And then came Lillian Dienta.
A person who could actually see him. A window—finally—a connection to the outside world.
Why only Lillian Dienta could see him remained a mystery. One more unexplainable anomaly to add to the list.
But unlike all the other puzzles gnawing at him, this one didn’t torment him. No, this was different.
This was a chance he couldn’t afford to miss.
To Aiden, it was as if a beam of divine light had broken through the heavens to shine directly upon her head.
He began analyzing her personality. She got scared easily, yes—bolted the moment their eyes met.
But she wasn’t bold enough to actually run outside the building. She hadn’t crossed that line.
And despite facing what looked like a floating cloud of ghostly mist, she still treated him like a nobleman.
So strictly bound by class and etiquette she couldn’t even scream properly.
So… what’s the best way to handle a maid like that?
How do you keep her close—and make use of her?
Threats wouldn’t work. Commands wouldn’t work.
Scare her too much and she’d vanish, never setting foot in the manor again.
So Aiden crafted something foreign to him.
A voice he never thought he’d use in his lifetime—soft, almost pitiful.
[Lillian, if you help me, I swear on the honor of House Kashimir—I’ll grant you one wish. Anything.]
Even as he spoke, he couldn’t stop thinking about how precious she had suddenly become.
[So please… don’t be afraid. Help me.]
He was dead serious. He wouldn’t let her slip away.
—
“I’m terrified out of my mind, thanks.”
Lillian trembled silently, her heart hammering as she stared back at him.
Those lifeless, black eyes staring down at her without blinking once—honestly, it was a miracle she hadn’t fainted yet.
This is the kind of story where if you say no, you’re doomed, she thought grimly.
Ghost tales she’d heard before flashed through her mind—about poor souls cursed after rejecting a ghost’s final wish, doomed to lives of relentless misfortune.
And those were the mild cases.
In some stories, people got dragged to the afterlife as unwilling companions.
That was the kind of look the duke had in his eyes right now.
If she said no, she had a feeling she’d get hit with the full force of a ghost’s wrath.
There was just one problem.
Even if she wanted to help him… she realistically had no idea how.
“I—it would be a great honor to assist Your Grace in any way I can, as a humble servant of the duke’s household, but… I’m just an ordinary maid. Maybe… it’d be better to find a professional?”
The temperature in the air dropped. His gaze chilled a few degrees.
But his voice? Still syrupy sweet.
[A professional?]
“Well, I mean… this is ghost stuff, so maybe someone from, uh… the Church? Or someone out in the countryside who knows old rituals or—something…”
She was careful not to name anything too specific.
The duke chuckled, a dry, humorless sound.
[What a bold suggestion—bringing heretics into the Kashimir estate. Unfortunately, I’ve had no way to contact anyone. Until now. But now that I have you, it might finally be possible.]
“Wait, me?! N-no, I’m not affiliated with any of that! I really don’t think I’m the right person for—”
He just smiled.
And stared.
And didn’t blink.
The longer he looked at her, the quieter her voice became—until it faded into nothing.
[Let’s worry about all that later. For now, just focus on what I can do for you.]
He clearly had no intention of letting her go.
The way he spoke… it reminded her of those demons in old stories—seducing people with angelic voices and beautiful promises.
[Giving you a lifetime of wealth and comfort? That’s the easiest thing I could do. So come on. Be creative. Think of a wish. Let’s trade your desperation for mine. Hmm? Lillian…]
It was such an absurd promise, it made her want to laugh.
Or cry.
Seriously?
She was scared out of her mind a minute ago, and now he was telling her to make a wish?
Sure, he sounded sincere now. But once this whole ghost situation was resolved?
He’d forget all about it. She could practically see it.
‘Oh, did I say one wish? Must’ve slipped my mind.’
Lillian wasn’t being cynical—just realistic. People who no longer need something tend to forget the favors that got them there. That’s just how the world works.
So eventually, she’d end up asking for something modest.
Something that wouldn’t offend the duke’s pride or invite trouble.
Still, she considered her options seriously.
“This isn’t even gonna change my life… So why get involved with a ghost in the first place?”
“No. I need to find a way out of this. Fast.”
