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Chapter 16
Their breaths tangled in a dizzying mess, minds clouded in a fog of heat and sensation. A teasing touch, like the brush of feathers, trailed down her spine.
“Hnn…”
The moist clash of lips echoed obscenely in her ear, too loud to be a mere illusion.
Surely… Surely someone outside could hear this, couldn’t they?
Her hand, which had been grasping at empty air, finally found his shoulder and clutched tightly. She twisted her head again and pushed him away as he leaned in, trying to deepen the contact.
“Haa… haa. Haven’t they gone already?”
Still catching her breath, she averted her gaze from his flushed, swollen lips.
He stared at her silently, his eyes dazed, then turned to glance toward the quiet corridor beyond the door.
After a moment’s pause, he gave a nod.
“Yes. They’re gone.”
“Phew…”
Closing her eyes, she exhaled in relief.
It was time for Rachel to make her move.
Surely by now, Rachel would’ve figured out the lay of the land—and she couldn’t stay glued to Edith’s side forever.
“Her name was Melissa, wasn’t it? How did you know she was one of Rachel’s confidantes?”
Edith blinked slowly at his question.
“I treated her with kindness. Asked her name. Let her linger by my side.”
Rachel would not have missed that.
“She always keeps the most easily manipulated girl close.”
In the original story too, Melissa had played the role of Rachel’s loyal aide.
And Edith intended to use that very fact to her advantage.
“For now, we can use her to spread false information.”
Of course, it would be better still if they could win the girl over entirely.
—
Several days passed.
They kept up the charade whenever Melissa was near, playing out a convincing scene of clandestine passion.
Each morning, traces were left behind for Rachel to discover.
And Rachel, without the slightest hint of suspicion, busied herself flitting about the estate, utterly content with her newfound authority.
*How oddly peaceful…*
After breakfast, Denok retreated to his study, as usual, drowning himself in his mountain of paperwork.
Edith, having seen him off, wandered through the garden at a leisurely pace.
She hadn’t yet taken on her formal duties, and the household had granted her time to adjust—a kind of rest period.
Something she’d never once experienced at the Duke of Sertia’s estate.
*Ah, the new gardeners.*
She spotted the men working diligently at the front of the manor, pruning wild branches and tilling fresh soil.
Apparently, the higher wages had attracted a better class of worker—many of them had even recognized her and tipped their hats in greeting.
Not wanting to be a nuisance, she veered off in the opposite direction, letting her feet carry her wherever they pleased. Before long, she found herself near the annex.
*Come to think of it, this is my first time over here.*
She’d heard the annex housed not only the knight’s quarters and cooks but also servants tasked with odd jobs around the estate.
*It’d be awkward to bump into anyone I know.*
With that thought, she purposefully stuck to the shaded, deserted paths.
**Slap.**
“…”
**Slap.**
She froze.
A harsh, familiar sound. A body being grabbed. A suppressed sob, sharp in the quiet air.
Her hands trembled. She knew that sound all too well.
Her gaze darkened as she turned toward the noise.
Rough, labored breathing followed—painting a vivid picture before her eyes had even confirmed it.
She followed the sound.
At the far corner of the annex, near the garden wall cloaked in shadow, a group of maids stood lined up stiffly. Before them, Rachel glared, eyes blazing.
Each of the girls had red, swollen cheeks.
“You dare defy me!”
Rachel’s voice rang out shrill with fury, her face flushed with indignation.
The maids trembled, heads bowed in silence.
Among them, one girl’s face was swollen more than the others—Melissa.
“I am the head maid who directly serves the mistress of this house! You insects think you can—?!”
“Rachel.”
The calm voice cleaved through the rising tension.
Rachel flinched and turned sharply.
Her face froze when her gaze met Edith’s.
“…My lady.”
Edith walked forward slowly.
“What is the meaning of this?”
She asked quietly but firmly.
Rachel straightened her back and responded confidently.
“I was merely disciplining them, my lady. Their behavior reflects directly upon your dignity—”
“Rachel.”
Her gentle tone cut cleanly through Rachel’s excuse.
“Am I mistaken… Or are you under the impression that *you* are the lady of this house?”
Rachel’s eyes widened with panic. Her mouth opened as if to object, but no sound emerged.
“You dare defy me!”
Her own words—thrown back at her—rendered her speechless.
The maids bowed their heads even lower, holding their breath.
“This is where *my child* will grow up.”
Edith turned her head slightly, glancing toward both the annex and the main house.
“And one day… that child will rule over all of this.”
A tense silence settled.
Rachel’s expression twisted with a mix of frustration and humiliation.
Mentioning noble blood and a child she could never refute—words that struck precisely at the heart of Rachel’s deepest insecurities.
“Father always said,” Edith continued quietly, “a master must act like a master. And a servant… must remember her place. Each should fulfill their role, nothing more.”
Her voice dropped.
“Shall I write to Father about this incident, Rachel?”
“My lady…!”
Rachel crumpled.
She collapsed to her knees, head bowed in defeat.
In the past, she had been able to torment and humiliate Edith precisely because the Duke didn’t care about his useless daughter.
But now?
Now, Edith was different.
Now, she was the key to fulfilling the Duke’s ambitions. The heir to Sertia’s future.
If she no longer stayed silent, things would change.
*So long as I act in Father’s interests, she cannot defy me.*
Rachel, who clung obsessively to the Duke’s approval, would never risk a stain on her record.
For now, the power still lay with the Duke—but in this moment, that power was firmly backing Edith.
Without sparing another glance for Rachel, Edith turned to Melissa.
“Melissa. Come with me.”
“M-me, my lady?”
“Yes. You.”
The other maids watched nervously as Melissa hesitated, then slowly stepped toward her.
A bright red handprint was still visible on the girl’s cheek.
Saying nothing more, Edith turned and walked ahead.
She could feel Rachel’s burning gaze piercing her back.
The last she saw of Rachel, the woman remained on her knees, frozen like a statue.
—
Watching Edith’s retreating figure, Rachel clenched her teeth.
“…How dare she. *How dare she…*”
*That wretched girl dares speak to me like that?*
The same girl who once clung to her skirts, sobbing?
Now she had the nerve to speak to her like *that*?
Her voice, her gaze, and her posture—it had all changed.
The etiquette she taught her, the noble airs she forced into that vulgar, low-born blood—all wasted?
“She dares pretend to rule over me—me, who kept this place afloat for her sake!”
Her hands trembled violently. Her vision blurred with rage.
Everything she endured, everything she sacrificed—she did it for the Duke. For *his* name.
She had cleaned up after that pitiful girl for *his* honor.
Dirt filled the cracks of her clenched fingers, grounding her with its cool texture.
Now wasn’t the time. She had to endure. For now.
But the moment that girl stumbled—even once—
*I’ll have her groveling at my feet.*
Just like before.
Mouth shut, face to the floor.
Rachel’s lips curled faintly into a smile.
—
Edith brought Melissa back to her chamber.
She seated the girl in a chair, rummaged through her drawers, and returned with a small case of emergency medicines.
Melissa timidly reached for it, but Edith gently pushed her hand away. Without a word, she soaked a cotton pad with salve and began dabbing at the swollen cheek.
The girl’s skin was red and inflamed.
“Why were you hit?” she asked softly.
Melissa flinched at the question, her small shoulders shrinking inward.
