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chapter 9
“You’re just property in this house. Merchandise. Something Father will sell off when the time comes. That’s how it is with girls, isn’t it?”
Norman muttered in a venomous voice.
“Don’t try to act human, Grace. You’re not human. What’s so proud about being born with this useless, puny body? Pathetic.”
No matter how vile and cruel Norman’s words were, Grace didn’t so much as blink.
The longer he went on, the more bored she became.
Grace slowly opened her eyes and stared at him, as if asking, Is that all you have to say?
That only provoked Norman further.
He wanted to wrinkle that serene face.
Slap!
“Keep your eyes open…!”
Unable to control his impulse, Norman struck Grace across the cheek.
His voice dripping with hatred, he spat out:
“You think you, the daughter of a second wife, have any right to take even a little of this house’s wealth, Grace? Not a speck of dust is worth it for you.”
The pattern was tiresome in its predictability.
Pick a fight. Strike. Threaten.
Grace rubbed her burning cheek and said in a bored tone:
“You’re petty, Norman Oelin.”
“…What?”
“You’re a weak, petty, unlucky man who traded your humanity for a few coins.”
“…!”
“Narrow-minded, small-minded. You know that, don’t you?”
Her calm, measured voice carried no curse, yet her words infuriated Norman.
“Argh! That girl!”
Unable to contain his anger, he shoved Grace with his foot.
‘Petty, small-minded, narrow’—those were Norman’s weaknesses.
And the one person who knew them best was Grace.
Thud!
Grace fell to the floor, clutching her aching stomach, biting her lip to stifle a moan.
Julie immediately rushed over.
“Eek! Miss! Please, Master, stop! If she collapses again and can’t attend anywhere, even the Mistress will be angry!”
“Get out of the way! This girl needs discipline!”
“Please! There’s going to be the Queen’s banquet soon! Miss Grace is invited—if she can’t go, what will happen? Please, stop!”
Julie blocked Norman, pleading with him.
Hearing “Queen’s banquet,” Norman clenched his fists and held his breath.
Her father might overlook him tormenting Grace, but if her social schedule was disrupted, he would be furious.
“You…! Both mistress and maid are equally insolent!”
Eventually, Norman’s anger was redirected toward Julie.
He struck her cheek hard and stormed out.
“Miss, are you alright? How could anyone hit a woman’s stomach like that? Such a terrible person!”
Julie’s voice trembled as she scolded him, barely containing herself.
Grace felt sorry for Julie, who focused on her injuries rather than her own.
“Sorry… I think you got hit because of me, Julie.”
“What are you talking about! No, I’m fine, Miss. I’m sturdy and don’t swell easily. But you… you’re not. Oh, this pretty face—where could anyone hit it?”
Grace smiled through the pain for Julie’s sake.
If she had crumbled over this, she would have disappeared long ago, like a salt doll.
“I’m fine. Just a bruise or two. More importantly, the thing I asked for?”
“Yes, Miss. I did as you instructed.”
Julie quickly brought the small jewelry box Grace had left beside the vanity.
A gem on top sparkled in the light.
Grace asked Julie for a cold compress, then, alone, lightly pressed the gem.
It shimmered in multiple colors, and then a sound emanated from inside.
-
Slap!
-
Behave yourself, you wanton girl!
It was Norman’s voice, the same one that had just thrown the room into chaos.
The gem was a highly expensive recording stone.
Ancient artifacts left behind by wizards were costly and difficult to use, but had incredible functions like this.
Grace stroked the gem until it glowed red.
The flickering red died out completely.
The sound had been stored.
She swallowed her trembling breath and muttered in a firm voice:
“So, I told you not to hit me anymore, Norman.”
Even a cornered mouse bites.
And some humans never recover from the bite of even the smallest mouse…
Seems like you don’t know that, Norman.
Time passed slowly.
Lucas had spent the past week in a frenzy, yet the next week felt unbearably slow.
Perhaps it was because he had a day he was looking forward to.
Finally, the day Grace was to visit his residence arrived.
“Hm.”
‘Really strange.’
Lucas’s aide, Haem Demigras, squinted at his superior with suspicion.
‘All week, he couldn’t sit still like an impatient puppy, and now he’s in such a good mood? Why?’
The only scheduled task was a dinner with Lady Grace Oelin after an early departure.
‘Could it be His Excellency is actually looking forward to the dinner?’
Haem couldn’t believe it. This was hardly the man to take notice of women.
He watched his master with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Whirr! Thud! Whirr! Thud!
The brisk, lively motion of flipping papers, reviewing and signing documents—so light it almost seemed to float.
His posture and gaze were as impeccable as always, but today his efficiency was extraordinary.
He was working three or four times faster than usual.
‘Wow, barely ten seconds per page.’
If he had always worked at this pace, Haem’s nights of overtime would have been halved—or more.
Grinning, Haem asked slyly:
“What time do you plan to leave, Sir, working so quickly that your hands can’t keep up?”
“Stop nagging and focus, Haem.”
“Hmm. You’re so efficient—why not always work at this speed?”
“Do you want to stay alone with this tedious paperwork all night?”
“Oh! That’s impossible. Today I intend to complete all of His Excellency’s tasks perfectly and return safely to the mansion. Ah, of course, escorting Lady Grace is part of my duties too.”
At Grace’s name, Lucas’s gaze briefly flicked up from the documents.
Haem propped his chin on his hands, giving a charming expression.
“I am, after all, His Excellency’s competent subordinate, Haem Demigras.”
Lucas frowned deeply. He glanced at Haem with a mix of disbelief and irritation, then returned to the paperwork.
Sensing an opportunity, Haem quickly added:
“But Sir, what flowers shall we prepare?”
…Flowers?
Lucas froze mid-stroke with his pen.
“Hmm, perhaps the yellow lilies representing the Oelin family? Or the blue roses that are popular nowadays? Ah! Hyacinths are in season, but yellow lilies are better, right? And to think I’m preparing flowers for a lady—what a life! Haha!”
He spoke teasingly, but the message was clear: he had failed to prepare properly for his first invitation of a woman to the mansion.
Lucas’s shock turned into a serious expression.
‘What a mistake.’
He stood abruptly, startling Haem, who raised his hands in alarm.
“I—I’ll stop!” Haem stammered, retreating quickly.
Lucas shook his head at Haem’s antics, then strode across the spacious office.
The office was so large that Haem’s temporary desk didn’t even get in the way.
Lucas circled it three times before stopping.
It was difficult. Finding a flower suitable for that woman was impossible.
He thought of a flower both delicate and strong, fragile yet sensuous, and then suddenly froze.
Pressing his deeply furrowed brows, he muttered harshly:
“Damn it.”
He had actually considered Grace Oelin delicate yet strong, fragile yet sensuous.
How many times had he seen her?
Lucas shook his head in disbelief, sat back down, and muttered in a subdued tone:
“Just pick anything. Flowers are flowers.”
“…Huh? Really, anything?”
“Yes.”
He returned his gaze to the paperwork, unwilling to think any further.
Swish-swish-swish-swish
His pace remained fast—faster than before.
‘Hmm. Strange. He seems concerned, yet…’
Haem shrugged and turned his attention back to his own documents.
If it wasn’t the case, it wasn’t—the boss was too intimidating to mess with.
About ten minutes later, Lucas’s quill was perfectly returned to the stand, and he jumped up.
“Get up, Haem.”
“Eh? W-Why all of a sudden?”
Striding toward the coat rack, he pulled the cord to summon a butler.
“Prepare the carriage.”
Suddenly leaving work to ride somewhere… Haem looked dumbfounded.
Lucas shot him a sharp look, nodding imperiously.
Get up and put on your coat.
“W-Wait, Sir! Where are you going, leaving work like this?”
Haem, hastily donning his coat, followed Lucas out of the office.
Lucas ran toward the butler waiting with the carriage, answering briefly:
“To buy flowers.”
…Oh, ridiculous.
Earlier, he said he’d just pick something casually!
