After Estelle left, Natasha immediately grabbed her outerwear.
There was a place she needed to go.
As far as Natasha knew, there was only one person who could write her a recommendation letter to become a maid at the Duke of Richard’s household.
Although she had connections with other noblewomen, only one person could write such a letter for a matter as dangerous as the current one, which could result in her beheading if she wasn’t careful.
Natasha climbed into the carriage and informed the coachman of her destination.
“To Madam Olga.”
Olga Petrov. No, now she was known as Olga Dorothea.
***
After passing the central fountain and then four blocks to the left, you arrive at a residential area where wealthy nobles live.
Most of the houses were the villas of nobles with estates in the countryside, but the mansion, surrounded by high red brick walls wrapped in ivy, was somewhat special.
Inside, the decorations were lined up in a way that seemed haphazard, but in reality, were meticulously arranged, reflecting the owner’s personality.
“A sudden visit, I see.”
Madam Olga appeared, draped in a fur coat made from the pelt of a winter fox, said to live only in the North.
At a glance, it was clear that it was expensive.
“Natasha, why are you here without notice?”
“Have you been well?”
Natasha responded in an unusually polite tone, something she didn’t often do.
Olga was one of the few who could make Natasha behave so courteously without money being involved.
Olga also held Natasha dear, and they were close enough to enjoy tea together when time allowed.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Is it for work?”
“Yes, I need you to write a recommendation letter.”
“A recommendation letter… You’re planning to get into something dangerous again, aren’t you?”
Olga naturally led Natasha to the parlor, and Natasha followed her steps with familiarity.
However, there was already a guest in the parlor.
The young man had well-groomed brown hair that shone, and his green eyes, as if carved from high-grade emerald, gleamed beautifully.
At a glance, it was clear he was a nobleman. His face still had a youthful boyishness.
“Ugh.”
“What’s this?”
As soon as their eyes met, both instantly scowled.
“Jerome Petrov… What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking that. Mother, do you still keep Natasha by your side?”
Oh dear. Olga unconsciously rubbed her forehead.
She had three sons, and the second, Jerome, was Natasha’s sworn enemy, always bickering whenever they crossed paths.
“It’s been a while, Jerome. Your dumbfounded face hasn’t changed.”
“And you’re still chasing after money, taking on every job you can.”
“At least I’m earning better than when I was cleaning up after the Petrov family.”
“And yet, your current work doesn’t seem all that different.”
“At least I’m not scamming illiterate commoners, so I can sleep soundly at night.”
Sparks practically flew in the air.
Olga slightly rubbed her forehead.
“You two still don’t get along, do you? Haven’t you outgrown these prideful arguments?”
Olga’s words carried weight. But Natasha couldn’t smooth her furrowed brow, and Jerome’s dissatisfaction was evident.
“It’s hard for me to live peacefully when the two children I cherish argue every time they meet.”
Whenever Olga spoke this way, something serious was about to happen.
Natasha and Jerome quickly locked eyes in the air and silently agreed with each other.
“Haha, Mother. When have we ever not gotten along?”
“Isn’t it normal for people our age to get closer by arguing?”
The two even put their arms around each other’s shoulders, displaying a forced smile.
“That only works when you’re teenagers, you know.”
“But our hearts are still like teenagers.”
Olga was momentarily at a loss for words due to Natasha’s brazen response. Jerome, sensing Olga’s disbelief, quickly added fuel to the fire.
“It feels like just yesterday that we were toddling around.”
The only problem with this statement was that Jerome had clearly grown too much for such a claim. Still, it wasn’t a bad attempt.
Probably.
“Don’t try to deceive me with shallow tricks.”
Olga finally laid down the law.
“Natasha, Jerome. What you two are asking of me isn’t all that difficult.”
“Mother…!”
“But!”
The moment of gratitude was short-lived.
Olga was about to get to the real point.
“You two will have to fulfill a request of mine. You should at least show that much sincerity, don’t you think? Right?”
She was smiling, but behind it was a daunting air. Natasha and Jerome reluctantly nodded.
***
Screech!
The sound of a fork scraping against a plate echoed loudly.
Flick. Natasha flipped through some documents and nonchalantly spoke.
“Didn’t they teach you manners in the Petrov household?”
“Sitting here eating with you is more than enough manners, so just keep quiet, will you?”
Jerome was poking at his empty dessert plate with a fork for no reason.
This was Olga’s proposal: Natasha and Jerome should spend some quality time together, just the two of them. Three times in total, with each session lasting at least two hours, having tea and chatting.
The conditions were very specific to prevent Natasha from trying to rush through or avoid it.
“What exactly did you ask Mother for that was so urgent? If it’s not, I’ll take care of it, so we can stop this ridiculous business.”
“It’s something you can’t do, so I’m going through this.”
What Natasha needed to become a maid at the Duke of Richard’s household was Madam Olga’s recommendation, not one from the second son of the Petrov family, who knew nothing about the situation.
Moreover, she couldn’t tell Jerome about such a sensitive matter.
‘After all, I’m trying to infiltrate the Duke’s household secretly.’
If caught, she wouldn’t be able to argue if her head was chopped off on the spot.
‘Not that it matters; I’d still be put on trial.’
Of course, the trial would inevitably end with a death sentence, so it wouldn’t make much difference.
“Let’s just kill time without picking fights. We already agreed to that, didn’t we?”
“Do you really want to do that even after coming all the way here?”
Jerome grumbled as Natasha continued to pore over the stack of documents.
“Then what? Should I sit here laughing and chatting with you?”
“Who said I wanted that? Just that, since Mother wants us to, we might as well pretend… No harm in that, right?”
Natasha chuckled at that.
“You still have a bit of a mama’s boy streak, huh?”
“What? Mama’s boy? Hey, if I’m a mama’s boy, then what about you?”
Jerome jumped at the chance. His green eyes flashed fiercely.
“Should I call you a mama’s girl? At least I’m her real son, but you…!”
His words were sharp like a knife, but Natasha didn’t even blink.
“Why are you so sensitive? Does the term ‘mama’s boy’ bother you that much?”
“You…”
Jerome’s hand, holding the fork, started to tremble.
“You still seem to hold a grudge against me, don’t you?”
Natasha’s gaze flicked to Jerome’s chin.
Through the stack of documents, her eyes barely visible, she scanned Jerome as if observing him.
Jerome flinched at her gaze, almost involuntarily.
“What grudge?”
He snapped back, sounding like a thief caught in the act.
To hide the lie, he puffed up and bristled.
“I just don’t like how you rely on Mother and push your way around. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
Yet his tone was oddly aggressive for such a claim. Natasha shrugged, aware that Jerome was merely trying to fool himself.
“Don’t act like a child. It was the right choice for Madam’s sake too.”
“Says who?”
“It was her decision, and I just helped a little.”
Dragging up something from three years ago was starting to get on Natasha’s nerves.
Though Jerome and Natasha always tore into each other whenever they met, their relationship wasn’t all bad.
“I wanted to repay the kindness she showed me in raising me.”
Though Natasha was a commoner, she grew up in the Petrov household almost like a sibling to Jerome.
This was why, despite their differences in status, they could sit down and have tea together—at least in places out of public view.
“Even if there’s no blood relation between us, she’s no different from a mother to me. And that’s a fact, whether you like it or not.”
“I know.”
Jerome grumbled in response, unable to hide his sullen expression.
Everyone in the Petrov household knew how much Olga cherished Natasha.
No, it wasn’t just that. Olga had genuinely wanted to adopt Natasha as her daughter.
It wasn’t entirely unprecedented for a commoner to be adopted into a noble family. However, Jerome’s opposition had played a significant role in preventing it.
—No! I don’t want to be siblings with her!
—Jerome, why? You get along with Natasha, don’t you? Didn’t you say you wanted to be family with her?
—…But, that’s…
Memories from childhood replayed in Jerome’s mind.
At the time, Jerome wasn’t opposed to Natasha becoming his sibling out of some vague dislike.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to accept her as family.
Rather, he wanted something different.
—Speak up, Jerome! Why are you suddenly like this?
—Ugh… No! I just don’t want it!
In the end, on that day of his childhood, Jerome could only cry without being able to give a proper reason.
Behind Olga, who was comforting Jerome, stood the young Natasha with a blank expression.
For some reason, that day’s memory remained unusually vivid for Jerome.
Even her slightly resigned smile and her eyes that sank low with despair.
These were things too painful for a child to endure.
‘I wanted to apologize for that day…’
While running away like a coward, time had passed, and he had grown up so much.
Thud.
“Time’s up. I’ll get going first.”
While Jerome was lost in thought, Natasha had gathered her documents and stood up from her seat.
“Hey…!”
Jerome looked bewildered, feeling as if his inner thoughts had been exposed.
“Next time, bring a book to read yourself. Stop picking a fight out of annoyance.”
Jerome opened his mouth, trying to say something, but in the end, no words came out.
He reached out towards Natasha’s back as she walked away, but his hand never made it to her.
However, he couldn’t muster the courage to bring up his past mistakes. It was pathetic.
“Damn it.”
He muttered a small curse and shouted at Natasha’s back.
“Denis is looking for you!”
In the end, Jerome mentioned the name that would hit her hardest, knowing her well enough.
Natasha flinched unintentionally at that name. He was one of the few people she had left behind in the Petrov household.
“He returned from the tower not long ago! He… doesn’t know anything.”
His voice grew smaller, almost as if talking to himself.
Natasha paused for a moment and stared at Jerome, then turned and walked away.
She never looked back again.
• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •By Esraa• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •
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