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Chapter 17
“… You’re saying you didn’t clean Lady Rachel’s room properly?”
“That must’ve hurt.”
“…I’m fine. It was my responsibility, after all.”
The forced smile tugging at the child’s lips was painfully sad.
I recalled Melissa’s personnel record—eldest of four siblings, both parents deceased, three mouths to feed, one of them chronically ill. A textbook example of a young girl forced into the role of head of household far too early.
“Don’t pretend you’re okay. It becomes a habit,” I said as I organized the medicine box.
“And when you’re truly not okay, no one will step in to help.”
“…”
Melissa’s shoulders gave a faint tremble.
“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to treat you the way Rachel does.”
I rose to put the medicine box back in place. After a moment of silence, a hesitant voice spoke behind me.
“My lady… Why are you being so kind to us?”
I turned. Melissa was gazing up at me, her eyes quivering with emotion—confusion, fear, and guilt, all tangled into one expression.
“I’m not being kind,” I said firmly.
“You prepare warm meals for me and set out water every morning and evening. I’m simply repaying your consideration with the decency you deserve.”
At that, Melissa’s eyes wavered even more—as if my words had touched the very heart of the guilt she’d buried deep inside.
Slowly, tears welled up in her eyes.
“Actually… the truth is…”
“You’ve been feeding information to Rachel, haven’t you?”
Melissa’s shoulders jolted. Her eyes widened, disbelief written all over her face.
I smiled gently. “It’s alright. You can keep doing that.”
“…Pardon?”
“But I’d like to propose something.”
I walked over to the vanity and retrieved a small, neatly crafted gold ring. It was far too modest for me to wear—but for a child like her, it would be priceless.
I placed it gently into her open palm.
Her lips trembled as she looked down at the ring in disbelief.
“M-My lady…!”
“Share Rachel’s movements with me as well. And I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded for it.”
I added that this was a rare chance to receive compensation from both sides—a mutually beneficial offer she would be wise not to refuse.
Melissa blinked, her expression unreadable.
I could almost see the gears turning in her small head.
I didn’t rush her. I waited silently.
After a moment, she stood from her seat and knelt by my side.
‘Rachel’s done more damage than I thought,’ I mused, startled.
As I reached out to raise her, she bowed deeply and murmured quietly,
“I will do as you wish, my lady. I’ll deliver what must be delivered… and conceal what must be hidden.”
When she raised her head, her gaze no longer wavered. It was filled with unwavering resolve.
It was the first time someone had shown these girls kindness—and granted them a choice.
Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were solid as steel.
She truly was a capable child—one worth holding on to.
I extended my hand and gently helped her up.
And as our hands met, I whispered,
“I’ll be counting on you, Melissa.”
A smile spread across her face—a bright, radiant smile I was seeing for the first time.
—
From that day forward, our daily lives changed.
I officially appointed Melissa as my personal maid, citing her nimble hands and reliable work.
She continued reporting to Rachel, just as before—and through her, I began to receive detailed accounts of Rachel’s movements.
The other maids, having heard rumors about the incident in the annex, stiffened and bowed deeply whenever they encountered me.
A bit much, perhaps—but it meant I’d gained a solid foothold of authority within the household.
Now, it was time to turn my attention outward.
—
“A festival?”
I blinked as I took the document Vernon handed me.
The title at the top read, *Luminel Flower Festival*.
“Yes. It’s held annually in the Luciano Territory to pray for a bountiful harvest,” Vernon replied cheerfully, dropping a stack of papers and books with a thud onto my desk.
I glanced at the towering pile of materials with dread, then returned my gaze to the document.
Today marked the official beginning of my duties as Duchess.
I had prepared thoroughly from the morning—tidying myself up more than usual, wearing a proper blouse and skirt, and entering the study ready to work.
‘There’s so much to go through…’
Vernon still looked like he wasn’t sure where to set down the rest of the files he was holding.
Flipping through the papers, I asked with mild disbelief,
“Have you been handling all of this alone?”
Normally, these matters would fall under the purview of the duchess, but the Luciano household had been without one for quite some time.
Vernon paused, his face momentarily filled with unspoken thoughts. Then, he smiled gently and nodded.
“Yes. But it’s alright now—because you’re here, my lady.”
For some reason, that sounded more ominous than reassuring.
I offered a weak smile and turned my attention back to the festival materials.
The Luminel Flower Festival, held each spring.
Traditionally, the duchess would oversee it personally—but for the past few years, it had been led by the duke himself.
Unusual for the Empire, the festival allowed the lord of the land to directly engage with their people.
Vernon mentioned that it would also be my official introduction to the people of the territory.
‘This will be a crucial opportunity.’
Winning over the maids was not enough. If I wanted true power, I had to win the hearts of the people.
That was the essence of real authority.
—
“…So, I’m trying to figure out how to plan the festival.”
I slumped against the bed with a sigh, my voice trailing off.
Beside me, the mattress dipped slightly as a calm voice answered,
“Is that so?”
I had spent the entire day in the study, my brain throbbing from endless logistics.
I once believed that my training as heir to the Sertia family had been thorough—but being duchess was an entirely different realm.
‘And asking Vernon for help feels like…’
“Vernon, do you—”
“Ah! If you’ll excuse me, I was just coming to deliver the updated list of construction workers and additional gardeners…”
“Never mind. Thank you.”
He was already swamped with the tasks I had assigned. Asking more of him felt inconsiderate.
And so, I was left alone to drown in paperwork.
My eyes flickering with fatigue, I turned to Denok.
“Denok, how was the festival prepared in the past?”
“…They simply reused decorations from the previous year. I never actually attended myself.”
“What?”
“The festival runs from evening into the night. I couldn’t attend because of… well, my condition.”
Ah. Because of his magic.
I fell silent, momentarily sobered by the reminder.
But his words sparked an important thought.
Reused decorations?
“Wait, does that mean there are records or designs from past festivals?”
I leaned toward him instinctively.
The documents Vernon gave me mentioned Luminel flowers, budget details, and event schedules—but nothing about decorations.
‘When I asked earlier, he just said they were based on the duchess’s ideas at the time.’
I desperately needed references.
As I leaned closer, my red hair spilled over Denok’s shoulder.
He flinched ever so slightly and leaned back, clearly ticklish.
“…Yes. My mother left behind a few sketches.”
“May I see them?”
Grabbing his arm in my urgency, I felt him flinch at the contact.
“It’s already late today. Shall we look at them tomorrow?”
He gestured toward the window with his eyes.
Night had already fallen.
Only then did I realize how much time had passed.
‘I guess I got a little too absorbed.’
Embarrassed, I stepped back.
“Right… It’s already so late.”
Looking at him, I asked cautiously,
“Then… shall we begin for the night?”
“…Yes.”
Once again, it was time to fulfill our duties as husband and wife. **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.
