The Portrait of Pride

 

Diana hesitated briefly before cautiously asking,  

  

“Butler, am I correct that the only people who enter the third floor are you, Sir Arnold, and myself?”  

 

“Excluding His Highness, yes.”  

 

Diana had heard earlier that the Crown Prince and his escort knight, Arnold, had gone out. It was unlikely the escort had returned without his master, which meant that the only person currently able to tread the central staircase alone was…  

 

“This is the bathroom. Of course, you won’t need to assist His Highness with his baths. He’s not one to entrust his body to commoners. Harper will take care of drawing and discarding the bathwater. The floor is slippery, and the edges of the tub are sharp, so it could be dangerous for someone like you.”  

 

At some point, the Butler’s voice faded into the background. Diana found herself unconsciously focusing all her senses on one single thing.  

 

The sharp clack of shoes meeting the marble floor, the soft muffling sound of dense carpet being pressed, the faint rustle of silk brushing against itself—  

 

Amid these calm and elegant noises, someone’s presence slowly drew closer.  

 

As Diana glanced around the bathroom, Emel clicked his tongue.  

 

“The bathroom might indeed be too much. Until you get used to this place, we’ll have to find another maid for this task. Your Highness?”  

 

Startled, Emel’s voice rose in surprise. Even then, he didn’t forget to tap Diana on the shoulder and turn her around.  

 

“You’re here? You’ve returned earlier than expected.”  

 

In this palace, there was only one person addressed as “Your Highness.”  

 

Diana bent her waist into a deep bow, her back forming a perfect right angle. A cold voice fell upon the crown of her head.  

 

“What is this?”  

 

“I was training the new cleaning maid.”  

 

“A maid?”  

 

Diana’s back trembled slightly. It was a voice one couldn’t forget after hearing it even once.  

 

The beautiful baritone sounded as if it had been played by the divine’s instrument. Even a lowly word like “maid” carried a perfect aristocratic accent. Unexpectedly, her heart began to race.  

 

Ever since losing her vision, Diana had sought to satisfy the needs her sight could no longer fulfill through other senses—beautiful sounds, soft textures, soothing fragrances, and appetizingly tangy foods.  

 

Among these, the sense that captivated Diana the most was undoubtedly her hearing. The Crown Prince’s voice was the finest she had ever heard in a man.  

 

“Did I say to bring in a new maid?”  

 

“Well, the girl who worked here until last week could no longer come, as you’re well aware, Your Highness.”  

 

“Ah, I see…”  

 

Even the elongated end note was graceful. Though colder than she had imagined, that didn’t matter.  

 

What kind of face would a man with a voice like this have? Diana, forgetting her situation for a moment, felt a bit excited.  

 

Whenever she regained her sight—though she didn’t know when—she’d make sure to find his portrait. Surely, he’d be as angelically beautiful as his voice.  

 

But Diana’s expectations were shattered the very next moment.  

 

“Pay your respects to His Highness, Diana. You’ll be serving hi—”  

 

Before Emel could finish his sentence, a large hand suddenly gripped Diana’s jaw harshly.  

 

Caught off guard by the staggering strength, Diana felt like a fish caught on a hook, pulled upward against her will.  

 

“Your Highness!”  

 

Emel gasped quietly, not out of surprise at the Crown Prince’s erratic behavior but rather as if he had expected it.  

 

Why? Why was he doing this? Had she made a mistake?  

 

Diana trembled, unable to keep her eyes focused. She was particularly vulnerable to unexpected physical contact.  

 

The oppressive presence of the stranger obscured by the veil of darkness crushed her lungs. The fingers pressing against her cheeks were so rough that the inside of her mouth scraped against her teeth, leaving a taste of blood.  

 

Moreover, the Crown Prince wasn’t holding her with bare hands. He gripped her jaw while holding something—a hard, long object.  

 

The object’s tip had vines of long cords attached to it, and it carried a distinct smell—one that permeated this entire annex with its sticky, acrid odor of decay and blood.  

 

“Hah, ugh.”  

 

The rough texture of the cord repeatedly brushed against Diana’s neckline. An indescribable terror constricted her entire being.

 

He was said to be gentle and kind…

 

This was something personally confirmed by Prince Aizen, who was in an antagonistic relationship with him. Yet, the grip clutching Diana’s neck held not an ounce of warmth.

 

“Ah, when I said that my elder brother is, of course, mild-tempered, I didn’t mean he’s naive and soft, Diana. From what I recall, he certainly wasn’t devoid of sharpness either…”

 

Prince Aizen’s meaningful murmurs flitted through her mind.

 

“If my brother becomes too unreasonable, try calling him this.”

 

“Master.”

 

The word escaped her lips impulsively.

 

Emel drew in a sharp breath. No sound came from the Crown Prince.

 

Did he tilt his head? Show a look of interest? Or perhaps one of disdain? No, whatever it was, Diana managed to push her voice out with great difficulty.

 

“Master, I was… wrong.”

 

Would something like this even work?

 

“Master?”

 

A short, incredulous chuckle escaped the man. Before her pounding heart could calm, the hand gripping Diana’s chin loosened. She was taken aback.

 

Shortly afterward, the cold fingers pressed against her cheek withdrew. They didn’t completely retreat, however, as a calloused finger brushed beneath her eye.

 

“A word I’ve never heard in my life.”

 

It was an overly humble term to use for a man addressed with the utmost honorifics. Regardless, Aizen had been correct—it seemed to have briefly piqued his interest.

 

But only for a moment. When Diana’s gaze couldn’t stay fixed on the Crown Prince’s face and shifted elsewhere, his interest rapidly cooled.

 

“Where did you pick up something so utterly worthless?”

 

His quiet muttering carried both tenderness and disdain.

 

Emel hastily attempted to defend Diana.

 

“Your Highness, I personally vetted and selected this maid. She’s not a child of questionable origin, so please don’t worry too much.”

 

“It seems it’s time for you to retire, Emel. It’d be wise to leave this palace while you can still walk on your own two feet.”

 

“I stake my life on this—this girl is different from the previous maids.”

 

“How is she different? Speak for yourself.”

 

Diana clutched at her apron. She had barely passed through the Butler’s scrutiny and was now facing the greatest crisis yet. If she couldn’t overcome this ordeal, her employment with Prince Aizen wouldn’t just be at risk—her very life would hang by a thread.

 

“My name is Diana Escalif from the House of Osfil. I will work quietly without causing any offense to you, Master.”

 

Her voice came out hoarse despite her neck not being strangled. The Crown Prince lazily mocked her.

 

“Everyone grovels like that at first. Within days, they turn into whores.”

 

The sarcasm laced in his words made her heart sink. Diana barely managed to maintain her composure.

 

“But I cannot see, Your Highness. There may be shortcomings in your view of me. If you point them out, I will do my utmost to correct them.”

 

“You cannot see?”

 

There was a brief silence. Diana imagined the Crown Prince might be frowning.

 

“Look at me.”

 

Diana raised her head. She tried to align her gaze toward where the voice came from, though she couldn’t tell if she succeeded. It had been so long since she’d tried to meet someone’s eyes.

 

In reality, her gaze was completely off. Her eyes missed the Crown Prince’s and landed near his lips. Her unfocused pupils were surrounded by pale green irises.

 

The Crown Prince let out a faint scoff.

 

“You can’t even take care of yourself, yet you claim you’ll stay out of my way and work quietly…”

 

His tone was amused. Emel, who had been watching cautiously, chimed in.

 

“This maid was sent by the meticulous Duke Osfil. She will not disappoint.”

 

“I see. If she does anything to irritate me, I’ll behead the duke immediately.”

 

Goosebumps rose along Diana’s nape.

 

“Ah, no.”

 

The Crown Prince let out a short laugh.

 

“Not the duke, but the real master who cowardly hides behind his name—that’s who I should kill, isn’t it?”

 

Her heart contracted. Did he know something?

***

 

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