Previously
Aracella and Damian confront the maids over the false accusations against Audrey. Audrey reveals letters proving Rosalyn is a spy for Duchess Vandermeer (using the alias Bradley Brown) and that the Head Maid was her accomplice.
After the maids left without having won a single concession, Aracella gathered the relevant documents and went to meet Damian.
Damian swept his gaze over the names written on the paper and nodded.
Though more than half the maids who had served in the mansion for years were leaving, he showed not the slightest sign of distress.
Aracella studied his sharp, keen features, cut clean as a honed blade.
Damian’s fingers twitched faintly as an unexpected tangle of emotions welled within him.
The Head Maid, who had been by his side for years, had betrayed him, yet it was Aracella—whom he had known for only a short time—who understood how he felt.
It was a strange sensation, neither sorrow nor sentimentality, but something suspended between the two.
Even so, he faced Aracella with a countenance stripped bare of whatever stirred inside.
Aracella eyed him with a mildly guarded look, drawing a faint smile from Damian.
Damian leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed.
Just as Aracella was about to pry into that slightly unsettling choice of words, Damian spoke again.
Though plenty of nobles harbored extraordinary affection for their personal attendants, Damian could never grasp such a sentiment, and it stirred his curiosity.
In his experience, servants were always traitors in the end.
For instance, during her childhood, Aracella had accompanied her sister to a charity gathering hosted by a noblewoman.
After a conventional storytelling session, the noblewoman went around asking each of the children about their dreams for the future.
While everyone spoke of conventional dreams, Aracella’s answer stood apart.
At the time, she had simply wanted to become a mage before she even knew what the Master of the Magic Tower was.
Yet no one could fathom a little girl naming such a specific vocation.
Everyone dismissed her words as the babble of an unknowing child.
Her peers were no different, so Aracella had no friends.
After countless squabbles with children who mocked her and called her weird, Aracella had grown up in isolation.
Her mother, the Marchioness, anxious that her second daughter would grow up lonely, brought in Audrey—a young maid of the same age—to keep her company.
And that was how the two girls first met.
Audrey looked at her, eyes shining bright.
Unlike the others, Audrey neither mocked nor belittled her. Instead, she cheered Aracella on with pure enthusiasm.
That attitude had never changed from the very first day they met until now.
That was why Audrey held such a special place in Aracella’s heart.
“Audrey was the only one who consistently supported my dream. In truth, even my sister didn’t fully understand me when we were young.”
Iris had been raised as a model noble daughter, her temperament the polar opposite of Aracella’s.
Even if she treasured her sister more than her own dreams, that did not mean she agreed with everything she did.
Damian agreed, his gaze distant.
Suddenly, Aracella wondered if there had ever been anyone like that in his life.
Was there someone in Damian Vandermeer’s life who had always stood by him, who would never abandon him, supporting him through thick and thin?
Well, being an accomplished knight, surely he must have had people like that.
Perhaps among the knights of the Red Falcon Knights, wasn’t that right?
Having finished her business, Aracella gathered her papers and prepared to leave the study.
Before a week had passed, more than half the maids were dismissed without so much as a letter of recommendation. In all likelihood, they would never work as maids again.
The day after the purge, Aracella brought in a group of maids from Marquis Hugo’s estate to the Vandermeer Mansion.
Of course, it hadn’t come easily; she had endured a barrage of scolding from her mother.
She had said, swatting Aracella’s back as the maids were being gathered.
Once those who had spearheaded the hostile atmosphere were gone, the remaining maids became far more cooperative.
No one dared challenge the mistress’s authority any longer.
Word of what had happened among the maids spread through every corner of the mansion, and all the servants began watching their step with utmost care.
Aracella smiled as she appointed Emma, recommended by her mother, as the Head Maid. From that moment on, total peace settled over the Vandermeer Mansion.
While she set the household in order, Damian saw to the interrogation of the spies.
At first, they denied everything, but under the weight of torture, they finally confessed to the truth.
Not long after Rosalyn broke, the Head Maid confessed as well.
It seemed matters had been quiet following the wedding simply because they had been plotting this scheme in secret.
Damian drew a hand down his face, curling his lips into a sharp smile. Between his parted lips, finely pointed canines peeked through.
‘The more these troubles mount, the faster I need to find Grandfather’s will.’
The moment The Grandfather’s Will was revealed—stating that the title would pass to the grandson who married a granddaughter of the former Marquis Hugo—Damian could instantly become the official heir.
From then on, everything would proceed smoothly.
The only problem was that he did not know where his grandfather’s will was hidden. For that reason, he was striving tirelessly to locate it.
As Damian stood by the window gazing outside, Aracella came into view, strolling through the garden.
Her face was bright, her steps light. Her lavender hair, fluttering in the breeze, gleamed under the sunlight, looking more radiant than usual.
All at once, Damian recalled the words Aracella had spoken when she proposed to him.
At the time, he had scoffed at her, but now her words appeared to be entirely true.
Under the present circumstances, there could be no better wife to support him than Aracella.
Having acknowledged as much, Damian uttered an unexpected remark the moment Aracella stepped into the study.
She had just walked in, and before she could even close the door completely, the words caught her entirely off guard, prompting her to look around.
Which meant there was no need to put on a show of being a doting husband, as no one was watching.
Why was he doing this, then?
Aracella looked at him with suspicious eyes, then closed the door firmly behind her and sat on the sofa.
Her expression was completely flat, as though she could scarcely believe she had just been asked out on a date.
Aracella narrowed her eyes and began mimicking Damian’s way of speaking.
Damian propped himself slightly on the windowsill, frowning.
He remained stubborn about his invitation.
Of course, annoyed though he was by it, he considered it better than keeping silent.
Aracella, finding that Damian’s pleasant voice and sweet choice of words could be remarkably grating, gave a nod.
Damian let out a soft laugh as he walked toward the desk.
He picked up the papers resting on the table, and Aracella spoke to him.
Damian gave a cool nod.
What terrible manners.
He hadn’t even looked at her while telling her to leave, and Aracella rose in irritation.
She then slammed the door behind her, producing a loud bang.
The sudden sharp noise made Damian wince into a frown.
In equal measure, each had irritated the other so thoroughly that neither realized they had just arranged their very first date.
Two days before the weekend outing, Damian recalled their date. He made his way to the bedchamber late in the evening.
He needed to check Aracella’s opinion tonight to prepare for tomorrow’s date.
He knocked on the door and heard movement inside the room. A moment later, Aracella’s face appeared through the gap in the doorway.
Damian, glancing downward without thinking, choked on his words, his voice fading away.
His eyes began darting aimlessly through the air. Aracella tilted her head curiously.
Damian lowered his eyes slightly, his lips moving quickly.
Aracella was wearing a thin chemise with a bath robe over it.
From the sweet fragrance wafting off her, she seemed to have only just stepped out of the bath. The tips of her hair were still damp.
Aracella pulled the robe tightly closed, unbothered.
Only then did Damian turn his eyes back to her face, letting out a short laugh.
Since the robe hadn’t been wide open anyway, Aracella paid it little heed.
At her brazen expression, Damian lowered his eyes once more and sighed.
Damian offered a stiff nod, then turned and walked away without looking back. Aracella didn’t even have the chance to answer.
Watching his tall frame recede down the end of the dim corridor, she clicked her tongue.
He really was a ridiculous man.