CHAPTER 30
Vivianne, who had woken up early in the morning, finished getting ready ahead of schedule. Sophie, who had arrived to start the day, showed a slight sense of disappointment upon finding Vivianne already perfectly prepared.
After finishing her meal and returning to her room, Vivianne mentally reviewed the tasks she needed to accomplish for the day.
First, she planned to deliver a gift to Charlotte and then consult Abernathy about the next tasks she needed to complete. This also included familiarizing herself with the duties to ensure she could perform them flawlessly upon his return.
After organizing her thoughts, she picked up the gift box and left the room with Sophie. When Vivianne suggested going alone, Sophie insisted on accompanying her, perhaps still affected by the recent incident.
Even though Charlotte’s words had hurt her, Vivianne had purchased a gift for her from the boutique, hoping to understand her better. A sudden houseguest could understandably be an uncomfortable presence for someone.
Upon arriving at Charlotte’s room, Marian’s expression soured at the sight of Vivianne. Despite Charlotte permitting the visit, Marian sneered arrogantly before opening the door. Vivianne felt a sense of relief just from the door being opened.
As she stepped inside, her eyes met Charlotte’s, who was reading a book. However, Charlotte immediately averted her gaze and pretended to focus on her reading. Feeling awkward, Vivianne sat down across from her.
“… You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
Although she managed to start the conversation with difficulty, Charlotte didn’t spare Vivianne a single glance.
“I didn’t tell Baron Zimmerman about you having someone you love… I thought sharing such details might unnecessarily complicate your relationship. From what I saw, Baron Zimmerman seemed like a good person. He wouldn’t be lacking as a husband. I can understand why the Duke chose him as a potential match for you, Miss Windler.”
Charlotte’s sharp glare pierced Vivianne like an arrow.
Her face turned red, as though she were about to cry, and her flustered expression pained Vivianne’s heart. The delicate young lady’s first love was being trampled on so harshly. Feeling Charlotte’s emotions so vividly made Vivianne’s own heartache.
“That kind of meddling isn’t necessary. If that’s all you came to say, please leave.”
Reluctantly, Vivianne moved the box from her lap onto the table and slid it toward Charlotte, but Charlotte refused to show any interest in it.
“When I left the manor a few days ago, I bought a gift for you, Miss Windler. I sold the embroidery I’d been working on to purchase it, so you can accept it without worry. When I first saw you, the feather decoration on your hat suited you so well that I wanted to give you something similar as a gift.”
Vivianne let out a thin sigh. Unable to sustain the conversation with the unresponsive Charlotte any longer, she finally stood up from her seat.
“And, Miss Windler…”
Persistent and proud—those were the words Charlotte used to describe Vivianne as she paused mid-step.
“I’ll forget what you said to me the other day…”
Charlotte’s eyes, stung by those words, finally turned toward Vivianne. They were filled with surprise, a hint of guilt and regret, and a touch of self-justification.
“I understand that words spoken in hatred aren’t always meant to harm.”
“…”
“More often, it’s the one saying those words who is hurting. Perhaps you wanted to prove, endlessly, that you were in the right. But the more you tried, the more it must have felt like you were confronting your own flaws—and that must have been painful. Maybe you didn’t mean to go that far, but I guess you felt bad.”
Charlotte’s lips trembled as if her emotions had been completely exposed, but she couldn’t muster a response.
“Words meant to wound someone else often hurt ourselves even more. If you’re still dwelling on it, Miss Windler, I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
At that moment, as Vivianne’s words of comfort reached her, Charlotte felt a surge of resentment. Beneath the table, her hands clenched tightly around her skirt, trembling with suppressed emotion.
“Oh, and… I’ve decided to work. You were right, Miss Windler. I’ve decided to work as a maid here at the manor.”
From the sudden arrival of an uninvited guest to the shocking news that a noblewoman would become a maid—Vivianne always seemed to be the source of such embarrassing events.
“People will probably talk, won’t they? The only daughter of a marquis working as a maid—how ridiculous. They’ll gossip behind my back, laugh at me, and treat me as a spectacle. But even so, I’ve decided to live as best I can until the day I die. I still need to eat and survive, even like this. So, Miss Windler, don’t be too heartbroken because of someone you love.”
“Have you ever been in love, Miss Aveline?”
That was when Charlotte’s eyes grew hot and filled with tears. It was a question Vivianne had never been asked before, one that caught her completely off guard.
“Are you comforting me, telling me not to hurt over love, because you’ve experienced it yourself? Or are you offering such comfort without ever having known it?”
“I was just trying to—”
“Enough. I’d like to be alone now.”
Wiping away the tears that had started to fall, Charlotte avoided Vivianne’s gaze.
Vivianne hesitated, wanting to say more, but stopped herself. She couldn’t bring herself to press further and risk aggravating Charlotte’s feelings, so she turned and left.
Left alone, Charlotte tried to suppress the tears threatening to overflow. She covered her face with both hands, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide her emotions.
The manor was turned upside down once again, and the protagonist of the commotion this time, too, was Vivianne Aveline. No one was more shocked than Sophie.
Lately, Vivianne had stopped relying on Sophie’s help. She dressed herself, styled her own hair, and, although her growing number of questions had seemed odd, Sophie never imagined that Vivianne would one day begin learning and performing tasks normally done by maids, all under the butler Abernathy’s guidance.
Vivianne wore the same uniform as the other servants. Ironically, she looked much tidier and more put together than when she wore her old, stained beige dress.
The manor’s servants followed Abernathy and Vivianne around, observing the situation as it unfolded.
A noble young lady becoming a maid was undoubtedly unprecedented in Neway’s history. While noble daughters from fallen families might do anything to secure a quick marriage, they would never dirty their hands with manual labor.
But Vivianne was different.
The tasks Abernathy assigned her, with other servants demonstrating by his side, included disposing of kitchen waste and garbage, as well as cleaning the barn, chicken coop, and stable.
Faced with dirty, foul-smelling work, Vivianne often turned pale. At times, she even appeared to gag.
Stranger still was Abernathy’s politeness. Whenever Vivianne seemed overwhelmed, he would say, “If this is too much for you, you don’t have to continue,” treating her with formal respect.
The other servants, watching this, grew even more confused.
Was this noble young lady simply experiencing life as a maid? Were they supposed to treat her as a noble or as a colleague?
In the dimly lit servants’ quarters, the maids huddled by the fire, mercilessly gossiping about Vivianne. They held their own meetings, debating her recent behavior.
As Marian had been spreading around, it was said that Vivianne had seduced the Duke to secure a life of luxury. However, once he lost interest, she was demoted to the status of a maid. Some argued that the Duke would never stoop to such a thing—he must have rejected Vivianne’s advances repeatedly until, out of frustration, he turned her into a maid to punish her.
Adding complaints and fabricating details to spice up the story, they let the gossip flourish. In their lengthy discussion, where they lost track of time, Vivianne was transformed into an entirely different person.
The inside of the carriage, accompanied by the gentle sound of falling rain, was quiet. As the carriage passed through the manor gates, a line of servants awaited their returning master at the end of the path. Edwin, seated inside and not looking out, waited for the door to open.
At last, the door opened, and Edwin stepped out. Abernathy was the first to welcome him back.
Charlotte, who always greeted his return, was nowhere to be seen. However, what immediately caught Edwin’s eye was the blonde woman standing quietly behind Abernathy. Her golden hair, now noticeably shinier, was neatly arranged.
The meaning of the maid uniform she wore was unmistakable. Though the sight of her in it felt strange, it also stirred a sense of possession within him—as if she were his, as if she could never escape.
It was almost laughable how a mere uniform could evoke such a feeling, as though it silently declared, I am your owner.
Edwin had instructed Abernathy to assign Vivianne the most grueling and undesirable tasks—the ones everyone else avoided. If she expressed a desire to quit, Abernathy was to let her go without resistance. He had explicitly instructed not to force her to. Yet, today, Vivianne remained.
She was holding up better than he’d expected—so much so that he almost felt like praising her for it.
The dark shadows under her eyes nearly made him laugh. You must have struggled these past three weeks. No wonder. It was fun to imagine Vivianne’s struggles.
How could he explain the feeling of watching Vivianne’s downfall—the same Vivianne who once sat in a carriage on a rainy day like this, her hair lush and gleaming?
When their eyes met, Vivianne quickly lowered her gaze. Her hands, clasped together in front of her, seemed to carry the weight of obedience.
Suppressing a smile, Edwin stepped into the manor. The air inside felt unusually sweet today.
Later, in his room, Edwin received a report from Abernathy regarding the past three weeks. Respecting the butler’s intentional omission of any mention of Vivianne, Edwin said nothing.
Nothing much happened while he was away from the manor.
Abernathy reported that Charlotte was still protesting but continued eating and taking her walks as usual. He placed a stack of letters on the table.
But Edwin’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely. However, he was in no rush.
Vivianne Aveline was here—present in every corner of this place. By donning the servants’ uniform, she had demonstrated her usefulness and her reason for existing.
Edwin closed his eyes, listening to the remainder of Abernathy’s report in silence before taking a moment to relax.
“Bring Miss Aveline to me.”
With that simple command, Abernathy left the room. Edwin remained seated, still in his traveling clothes, waiting for Vivianne to arrive. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table beside the stack of letters.
Soon, a knock echoed through the room, and the tapping stopped. Edwin’s gaze shifted slowly toward the door as it opened.
Through the doorway stepped Vivianne Aveline—the Vivianne who now wore the maid’s uniform effortlessly.
Compared to her old self, she looked much more refined. Now, Vivianne enjoyed the privilege of dressing neatly while still being able to roll through the mud.
Edwin chose the most welcoming greeting he could muster for Vivianne.
“Hello, Vivianne.”
