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Chapter 8
The subtle jolting of the carriage stirred me from sleep.
As I opened my eyes, they met Denok’s calm gaze.
“…Have we arrived?”
He gave a slight nod.
So it begins.
My palms grew damp with nervous sweat. I quickly straightened my clothes and waited for the carriage door to open.
A moment later, an attendant opened the door, and with Denok’s escort, I stepped down.
“Welcome, my lord. My lady.”
A deep voice greeted us the moment I set foot on the carpeted path.
Lined up neatly in front of the carriage were a row of maids, awaiting our arrival. And standing at the very front, a man with silver-streaked hair bowed deeply.
Head Butler Vernon.
One of Denok’s most trusted men—an indispensable figure in this mansion, akin to a chancellor.
If Vernon is here… then that means he is here too.
The other cornerstone of Denok’s protection.
“Wow, I must say, you’re even more beautiful than I expected! Standing beside His Grace, your beauty shines all the brighter.”
“Gerald.”
Denok’s quiet reprimand cut through his flattery. At that, Gerald raised both hands in mock surrender and stepped back.
“Ah, my apologies. I’m but a humble commoner—never had the chance to learn proper etiquette.”
Despite his lazy smile, he bowed with impeccable form.
“I am Gerald Fitz, commander of House Luciano’s knights.”
Gerald Fitz—once a commoner, he had risen to the rank of quasi-count after joining House Luciano. Despite his playful demeanor, his skills were said to be so exceptional that even the Imperial Palace coveted them.
Still unscathed, I see.
As I looked at him, I dug my nails into my palm. The sharp pain helped to clear the fog of guilt clouding my mind.
In the original story, Gerald lost his sword arm—his lifeline as a knight.
Because of me.
It was during winter, when monsters grew increasingly violent.
In the original, I had pestered everyone to let me go on a picnic in the woods—
Screams. Chaos. A monster attack.
And in the midst of that mayhem, Gerald had thrown himself between me and a rampaging beast.
Suddenly, all the villainous acts my original self had committed here came flooding back, making me dizzy.
No. I came here to change that ending.
I shook off the guilt and raised my head.
But before I could say anything, a voice cut in.
“This is how you welcome our young lady?”
A sharp, scoffing voice tore through the tension.
The sound of measured footsteps followed, drawing everyone’s gaze.
“For House Sertia’s welcome, this is… disappointingly lacking in sincerity.”
Her hair was tightly bound without a strand out of place, her furrowed brow twitching in irritation. The scowl mirrored her master’s temperament.
Rachel.
She cast an icy glance over the butler, Gerald, and each of the maids.
Then she clicked her tongue with obvious disdain.
The air around the carriage instantly grew frigid.
“Who is she?”
Gerald’s crimson eyes slowly turned to her.
“She’s a handmaid sent by House Sertia,” Denok explained calmly. “She once served as head maid—and was the young lady’s nanny.”
Rachel raised her chin, as if asking whether Denok had explained her credentials.
“Rachel Yeagerman,” she announced in a cold, clipped tone.
Then, with sharp authority, she fired her next question.
“Pardon my boldness, but who is responsible for managing this estate?”
“I am…”
Head Butler Vernon cautiously raised his hand.
Rachel glanced around the estate and muttered under her breath.
“Pity. The management seems… lacking.”
She gestured toward the garden with her chin.
“Overgrown weeds in the garden, the path leading to the manor is poorly lit…”
She took a deep breath, then tilted her head with exaggerated disbelief.
“Surely you can afford at least one magic crystal lamp?”
Her sarcastic tone was razor-sharp.
At her words, the maids visibly shrank back.
Vernon remained silent, simply bowing his head in shame.
Tension clung to the air.
Inside my mouth, I bit the inner flesh hard.
It was clear she was establishing dominance from the start.
That House Sertia, despite only being a marquisate, held more practical power than the ducal House Luciano.
Judging by the maids’ intimidated faces, her tactic was working.
But even with Denok right beside us, she dared to act like this…
“Your Grace.”
Rachel bowed deeply to Denok.
“I may be but a former head maid of a marquis household, but if you entrust me with this estate’s management, I promise to uphold the dignity of House Luciano.”
“…Do as you wish.”
“Your Grace!”
Gerald’s eyes widened in protest, but Denok merely nodded in silence.
Rachel, unsurprised, smiled faintly.
Father must have tipped her off—knowing that I hold the key to Denok’s madness.
“Thank you, Your Grace. And if I may speak further…”
Rachel bowed once more, then raised her head, her sharp eyes locking on Gerald.
It was clear she intended to say something provocative.
I clenched my fists tightly.
To play my role in this farce, I had to support Rachel.
What she saw and heard would be reported back to the marquis. I needed to show I was on her side.
But…
That didn’t mean I had to bow my head to her.
Not anymore.
For the happy ending I sought, the dynamic between us had to change.
I lifted my head.
“Rachel.”
Silence fell instantly.
All eyes turned to me. Rachel raised her brows in surprise.
I met her gaze steadily and said,
“That’s enough.”
Rachel’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“M-My lady?”
The woman who always prided herself on perfect manners was now stammering.
She had never imagined I’d speak to her this way.
After all, I was always the obedient “Edith” who quietly nodded at her words.
Her pride must be stinging right about now.
Watching her expression twist, I sighed as if exhausted.
“I’m tired. How much longer are you going to make me stand here?”
As I finished speaking, I swayed slightly. Denok immediately reached out to steady me.
Truthfully, I did feel faint—but the stumble was half act, half reality.
My cutting words left Rachel’s face flushed red.
My tone had clearly treated her as a subordinate.
But she couldn’t protest.
In front of this many people, rebuking the duchess would be tantamount to insubordination.
So long as I am the Duchess, and she remains the head maid…
She could not afford to challenge me publicly.
Her beloved “etiquette” wouldn’t allow it.
Leaning against Denok’s shoulder, I asked silently,
So, Rachel—what will you do now?
“…”
A heavy silence followed.
Rachel’s lips quivered slightly.
Her once-impeccable expression twisted with visible fury.
Then finally, her sharp voice rang out:
“Did you not hear? The lady is tired. Show her to her chambers at once.”
Vernon flinched, then quickly nodded in compliance.
Turning on her heel, Rachel shot a frosty glare at the maids.
“You, assist with unpacking and prepare a bath for the lady—now.”
Having spoken, she approached the carriage and began helping with the luggage herself.
But it was obvious—she only did so to avoid the moment.
I watched her retreating figure for a moment, then slowly closed my eyes.
If she loves hierarchy so much…
Then it’s time she learns—I
now stand higher than her.
