Chapter 1
“Hanon, do you happen to remember how many years it’s been since I started nagging at you?”
I gently set down the vase I had been pretending to polish and looked at ‘Miss.’
She was perched by the frosted window, leaning her head against the thick glass, gazing out at the snow-covered garden beyond.
Eve Rosa Nine.
My lady, with a face as exquisitely beautiful as her name, and a temperament more ruthless than thorns.
Ruling over the isolated mansion on the cliff above the frozen sea, like a tyrant in winter.
Adjusting the slightly crooked, mischievous silver mask on my nose, I replied.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean. Miss, you’ve always been consistent with Hanon.”
I fell into such an obvious trap and submitted an answer like “It’s been just under six months.” Only to be chased away like the others who had done the same.
One by one, they left, while I, unable to leave, remained as the sole attendant maid for about five years now.
You haven’t been consistent for five years, how would I know the subtle differences in your heart that you keep hidden?
“Is my question too difficult to understand?”
An application problem. It doesn’t matter.
If I say I understood? But why aren’t you responding? A slap would come flying asking why you’re not answering. If I say I didn’t understand? After so many years, you still don’t understand? Something else would come flying.
Miss isn’t clueless about her temper. Let’s just start with the method that always works.
“If I give a couple of suitable responses, by dinner time, she’ll come asking for a head massage, annoyed…”
I was about to kneel to approach her feet without impurities, until her pure and soft palm stopped me.
“You don’t need to do that. Sit on the stool. I have something to tell you.”
“I’m sorry. I find it difficult to understand, Miss.”
Of course, I know what a stool is. It’s nothing special. Just a chair with a backrest.
The problem is our lady wouldn’t know such words. That’s an old term used by nobles or palace people when intimidating country nobles.
Earlier, there was gossip next to the pillow, did you see it in that trashy serialized novel there again? How can I fix it without being caught this time and make it mean the same thing?
“You meant the slim wooden stool over here.”
What? You wrote it accurately, didn’t you?
“…I apologize for asking you to repeat. Of course, Hanon knows he can’t dare to sit on a chair in front of Miss…”
“Oh, you understand? I’m surprised. I’m confused when you started being openly clever. Anyway, you know, so that’s fine. Sit there.”
“…I’m sitting…”
There was a strange nuance, making it ambiguous. Could it be that Miss is… mocking me?
No, usually she speaks blatantly twisted words. I’ve never heard her subtly twist words enough to confuse me.
Of course, there are many chairs. But these are all furniture for Miss. Eve Rosa never allows others to sit or rest in her room.
Friends? Haha. Even though this place is close to the northernmost edge of the empire, among the nearby minor nobles, there are no peers who would come here to play with our Miss.
Look at that face.
Her platinum-colored hair, like moonlit silk threads, coils luxuriously even without the aid of a hairpin, and within it, her small face is like a flawless pearl.
Her lazy eyes, making everything seem trivial, are covered by thick eyelashes, while her eyes, the color of deep green jade, blink slower than others’, emanating an unusual brilliance between the heavy eyelids.
See? Born with a face worthy of adoration, as the eldest daughter of one of the five barons along the border of this country.
But she doesn’t have a single proper peer. Those who understand what that means will understand.
Anyway, as I stood there, unable to do anything, Miss walked barefoot across the carpet.
Then, she carefully pulled out a stool and slightly stepped aside, looking at me.
Hmm. When someone who is not sensible insists on taking a sensible approach to assert their position, it makes one consider nonsensical implications first.
“Hanon, take a good look. In this world, there are pieces of furniture like you that just can’t stay in their place. Lost in old memories without knowing the topic.”
Strange. Why does this feel so vivid?
Ah, it’s what I heard a week ago.
“Should I rearrange my wardrobe?”
“Suddenly? Why?”
“I’ve been thinking about what it might mean when you point at the chair like that.”
“I see. When someone points at a chair, it means they want you to sit in it. Now that you understand, will you sit?”
“….”
Why suddenly talk about the wardrobe?
It’s nothing much. Eve Rosa’s health is not good, so she always has trouble getting up. But today, it was particularly bad. As soon as she got up, she cried as if she were about to die.
She cried so bitterly that her fever soared like a wildfire, so I hurriedly tried to get her to wash up and called the apothecary.
But suddenly, her crying stopped, and she got up abruptly?
Then she ran barefoot into my room next door and demanded that the wardrobe be moved to the center of the room right away.
After I confirmed that I had moved it myself, I returned to the room, and from then on, she spent the whole day staring blankly out the window in her pajamas.
So, the first sentence she uttered in such a human-like manner earlier was that. The one about how many years it’s been since I started nagging at you.
“Wait.”
As thoughts flowed to that point, suddenly the back of my ears felt cold with sweat.
“Strange. Why isn’t she getting annoyed?”
About the temperature of the morning wash water, the condition of the pajamas, the absence of a somewhat unexpected invitation letter, or the inevitable sign of irritation that usually arises during work.
Miss hasn’t said a word since earlier?
Hmm. Did I behave ‘politely’ enough to make Miss feel bad again? Did my ‘habit of peeking and stealing glances’ betray me enough?
Forget it. If there’s something to say, let’s say it straight away. It’s better to stumble than to delay in front of Eve Rosa.
I knelt down with a thud. Before the hesitation could become too prickly, I gathered my hands in front of my stomach, bent my back deeply, and shouted while looking at the floor.
“Hanon was reckless, Miss!”
A short but deathly silence followed.
While still worrying if my overly unfolded honesty might offend her, a calm voice returned from above.
“Am I supposed to react so strongly just because I suggested a chair?”
This, this is the first time she’s been angry like this, right? What did I do to make her so angry?
At least I shouldn’t have been so reckless, right? Understood. If Miss thuds, I’ll just thud back.
“Reckless, no, I was wrong. If my learned habit of peeking and stealing glances has caught your attention, please forgive me. To dirty your eyes with an attempt to mimic your esteemed ladyship’s innate qualities and high standards…”
“Get up.”
“…Yes, I will. I will not walk or speak in that manner again…”
“I just told you to get up. I didn’t know you’d become stubborn from this point on.”
“…I see?”
The voice above sounded like a stranger.
From start to finish, it was calm, with impeccable pronunciation, truly elegant.
And that perfect southern noble accent. Where did the accent I studied obsessively disappear to overnight?
Thoughts passed by faster than words, and I slowly raised my head.
As the muslin nightgown fluttered as softly and delicately as the curtains swaying in front of the open window.
Made with secrets from a foreign land, this fabric was so light that even when wearing two layers, the lady by the candlelight sometimes appeared as if wearing nothing at all.
Under the floating hem, knees covered only with smooth, luminous skin gleamed.
Knees that had never knelt before, never bowed before anyone.
“Yes. Eve Rosa Nine is a woman who can have such knees.”
So if there was something she wanted, she must have it, and if there was something she wanted done, she must have it done.
The lady believed that anything that came into her possession, even when she was younger, had to be her love.
The problem was that having something didn’t guarantee a happy ending. Suddenly, just because she had it, she would impulsively tear it apart, whether it was her life or an object.
Moreover, occasionally, she would include herself in the things she tore apart, which made it even more problematic…
“It’s not a big deal yet. Don’t hesitate. First, get up as instructed, sit down as told, and then think about what comes next.”
I scolded myself as usual. Then, silently getting up from the floor, I carefully sat in the chair she had provided.
As she watched me like always, she didn’t mock me as much as she worried. She simply went to the other side and sat down gracefully.
Then, with a hesitant voice, she spoke.
“Where should I start?”
Hesitant. My goodness. I’ve never imagined using such a description for the way she speaks.
The emotions I knew her to have were usually focused in the moment. Like instant happiness, immediate anger, fleeting embarrassment, things like that.
The first time I heard a voice revealing such complex and troubled feelings was when I met her, I swear.
“In a year, you will kill me and take my identity, pretending to be Nine.”
And before the shock could even set in, Eve Rosa Nine started babbling like a mad person with her beautiful face.
