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Chapter 25
Blake snatched up the signed contract as though he were taking it away from her. After confirming that Freya’s name was written correctly, he kept one copy for himself and handed the other to her.
“You can’t take it back now, Miss Swan.”
“I know.”
“Then, since it’s late today, stay here for the night. Use whichever room you like. You’ll find most necessities are prepared, so it should be comfortable enough. I’ll have the staff prepare a meal for you.”
“That’s all right. I can just stay at a nearby hotel.”
“Isn’t Miss Freya a fugitive? You’d do well to listen to me. Besides, Miss Nancy will begin staying at the department store dormitory starting tomorrow. As for your own lodgings, I’ll arrange something suitable.”
“You’ll even take care of my residence?”
“Miss Swan, you’re my person now. Which means you’ll receive the best treatment from now on. Don’t worry—I’ll see that you’re taken to a safe place.”
“Then… I’ll leave it to you. Thank you.”
“Do you have no further questions?”
Freya stared blankly at her own signature. Other than signing dress orders or grocery lists, had she ever really written her name on a document before?
Yet today she had signed twice on documents that carried her very life. She couldn’t tell which one was worse, but now all she could do was entrust everything to fate.
Freya decided to focus only on what she stood to gain. Now she could finally send money to Mr. Dylan, and she had secured a chance to spend the rest of her life in the Mirror Mansion.
Compared to what she was gaining, things like pride or hatred meant nothing. That was enough.
Blake watched the slight shake of Freya’s head with a subtle expression before speaking again.
“Then, have a restful night.”
Once Blake left, Freya collapsed back against the sofa. Nancy massaged her arm and asked,
“My lady, will you really be all right?”
“What could be worse than being locked in an asylum?”
Freya gave a weary smile. Nancy tried to add a few words, but Freya cut her off.
“Nancy, I’m too tired. Can’t you just let me rest today?”
She wanted to escape reality, if only for a few hours. Too much had come crashing down at once, and she felt she would suffocate.
Yes—after sleeping… perhaps by tomorrow, everything would miraculously work itself out. With that faint hope, Freya let Nancy help her undress.
As her dress was removed, her corset loosened, and her smudged makeup wiped away, one persistent image refused to leave her mind: Blake’s deep, cold blue eyes.
Even as she sank into a heavy sleep, powerless to shake the thought away, she remembered them—those beautiful eyes she desperately wanted to avoid, yet could not stop staring at.
The next day after lunch, Freya parted tearfully from Nancy and boarded the car Blake had sent. In no time, it arrived at the Harperd Estate in Bryhill.
“Was the ride uncomfortable?”
Blake extended his hand to her as she stepped out. Since it was Sunday, he was dressed more casually than usual.
Freya almost reflexively reached out, but withdrew her hand instead. Rather than flatly rejecting his courtesy, she gave him a bright smile.
“Thanks to you, the ride was pleasant.”
Blake glanced at his rejected hand, then smiled faintly.
“I’m glad. It will only become more uncomfortable from here.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Nothing. At any rate, you’re dressed properly today. Finally, it feels like we’re living in the same era. Before, I wasn’t sure if I was attending to my grandmother or conversing with a princess from ages past.”
Freya gave him a quick glare, then awkwardly fiddled with the white ribbon on her shoulder strap. The dress she wore was one his secretary had delivered to her penthouse that morning.
It was far more revealing than the one she had received from him before. Though fashionable by modern standards, to Freya it felt practically indecent.
The black sleeveless dress dipped low below her collarbone, threatening to reveal her chest with the slightest wrong movement. Its short hem nearly exposed her knees, making her tug constantly at the skirt out of habit.
But she hadn’t been able to bring her things from the townhouse, and there was no way she could wear yesterday’s tear- and sweat-stained gown. She had no choice but to put it on.
“Hold still.”
As Freya wriggled her toes uneasily under his gaze, Blake suddenly stepped close. Startled, she retreated until her back hit the car.
With nowhere left to go, she had no choice but to face him as he leaned in.
Blake smirked at her stiffness and reached for the long pearl necklace that hung down her waist.
“If you walk around with it tangled like this, even the most expensive necklace looks shabby.”
“Oh… I didn’t notice. Leave it, I’ll do it.”
“No. It’s hard to see—allow me.”
Of all places, it had tangled at her neckline. Freya whipped her head to the left while his deft fingers worked at the right side of her collarbone.
He was so close she could smell the faint scent of peppermint on his breath. His fingertips brushed her bare skin now and then, and her earlobes flushed hot. She trembled and swallowed hard.
As her throat bobbed, Blake’s gaze fell unconsciously to her pale nape, white as a pearl. Her skin was so translucent in the sunlight that veins were faintly visible.
Lavender scent…
For a moment, his chest tingled as though a bug were gnawing at his heart. He furrowed his brow sharply and hastily freed the necklace.
“From now on, only wear the clothes I provide. You’re the face of our company now.”
“Yes… understood.”
“And when you must appear in public, please wear this for the time being.”
At his gesture, the driver handed her a hat with a black veil. Freya stared at it blankly, so Blake explained,
“Our partnership will not be announced publicly for now. The later you reveal a trump card, the better. And it’s best the Swan family remains unaware of your presence here.”
The reasoning seemed sound, and Freya obediently put the hat on. The black veil cascaded like rippling water, draping down to her neck.
Behind the dark mesh that concealed her face, only her red lips stood out vividly. Blake lingered on them for a moment before turning away.
“Come with me.”
Freya followed him up the stairs. At the sides of the polished marble steps, lion statues stood proudly.
As she climbed, admiring the fine carvings, the massive cream-colored mansion finally loomed fully into view. Surrounded by lush greenery, the Harperd Estate looked far larger than the Swan family’s manor in Breneux.
She craned her neck to gaze at the gray rooftop, so high it seemed endless. Water from the central fountain sparkled in the sunlight.
Freya recalled reading in a magazine that the Baron Harperd Estate was the most expensive residence in all of the Elbador Kingdom.
Yet she did not find it beautiful. Though filled with flowers and bathed in light, it all felt strangely false.
And she could not shake the thought that this dazzling mansion was built upon her mother’s death. The place reeked of a stench she could almost smell, as if rot seeped from every corner.
“Introduce yourselves. This is Miss Freya Swan, who will be staying here from today. Miss Swan, this is Albert, the butler, and Didier, the head maid. They are trustworthy, so you may ask them for anything you need.”
Startled by his words, Freya lifted her head. The butler and maid greeted her with kind smiles.
She returned their greetings with an uneasy face, then looked back at Blake.
“Mr. Blake, I’ll be living here?”
“Did I not say I’d provide you with lodgings? Fortunately, there’s a suitable annex on the estate. Don’t you like it?”
“That’s not the problem. It’s… inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate in what sense?”
“I’m your employee. For me to live under the same roof with you, without explanation, wouldn’t that look improper to the world?”
“Then there’s no problem. As you say, you’re my employee. You’re no different from Mr. Albert or Mrs. Didier here.”
“But I’m not the same as them—”
“Why not? Because you’re a noble lady, and they are servants?”
Freya flinched and glanced anxiously at Albert and Didier. They smiled as though unaffected, but inwardly, Blake’s unusually rude remark startled them.
Trying to smooth over the awkwardness, Freya hurriedly continued,
“They’re live-in staff, but I’m just a model. It feels far too much for me.”
“Hagen is my secretary, yet he often stays here as well. And besides, from a security standpoint, it’s best. No matter how careful we are, a famous figure like you will be discovered quickly.”
