“Your Grace, Baroness Sionel is here.”
The messenger was one of the maids tasked with serving Blair.
Blair tilted her head. The household staff, who adored their master Headrin, were deeply wary of her; delivering messages was usually strictly Lina’s domain.
Having hurriedly concluded her teatime with Agnes, Blair exited the greenhouse and returned to the mansion.
Baroness Sionel, waiting in the bedroom, greeted Blair with her characteristic high-octave trill.
“Oh, my! You’ve become even more beautiful since your marriage, Your Highness. No, I suppose I should call you Duchess now.”
“I wanted to thank you for the wedding dress, but things were so hectic afterward that I couldn’t get in touch.”
“Since the greatest beauty of the Empire wore it, I am the one who should be grateful. It was an honor to craft your first gown as a married woman.”
Blair scanned the room as she listened to the Baroness’s honeyed flattery. Lina was nowhere to be found.
“Regarding the fabric, just as Duke Headrin suggested the other day, I have selected materials that are light yet exceptionally warm. He seemed quite worried you might catch a chill.”
The Baroness’s chatter washed over Blair, failing to leave a dent. Her focus remained entirely on Lina’s absence.
Lina did not reappear, even as Blair examined the new samples and settled on designs for her coming wardrobe.
Once the Baroness departed, Blair turned to a nearby maid, finally addressing the weight on her mind.
“Where did Lina go?”
The maid hesitated, shifting her gaze to avoid Blair’s eyes.
“W-well. I’m not sure… Shall I go look for her?”
“No. Never mind.”
Blair rose and donned the fur robe she had earlier set aside.
“Are you going for a walk, Your Grace?”
“Yes.”
As the maid moved to trail her, Blair stopped her with a sharp look.
“I am going alone.”
“Ah, yes.”
Blair stepped into the hallway, leaving the maid behind. The household staff stationed outside bowed as she passed, but she circled back quietly, hovering near the half-open door to listen to their hushed whispers.
“Where did that Lina go? Don’t tell me she’s off crying somewhere just because she got a little dirty water on her?”
“Crying? Hardly. She didn’t even blink when she went to scrub it off. No fun at all.”
“She’s tough, I’ll give her that. Just like her mistress. Still, she’s going to have a hard time getting that stench out of her uniform.”
“Do you think she’ll go and tell Her Grace about this?”
“If she were going to, there would’ve been a scene already. She knows the truth, too: no matter how noble the Princess is, she’s nothing but a nuisance in this house.”
Blair gripped the hem of her skirts, her crimson lips trembling. Her premonitions, as always, proved true.
Because they couldn’t touch her—the Emperor’s only sister—they had taken to tormenting her maid.
A question gnawed at her: given Lina’s spirited nature, why had she endured it?
Then, it clicked. Lina had been suffering in silence to protect Blair’s reputation, ensuring the ‘ugly duckling’ of the duchy didn’t appear even more pathetic.
*Perhaps it was the same in my previous life. I was just too buried in my own misery to notice.*
Blair bit her lower lip, hard.
“Your Grace?”
Startled, Blair turned to see Lina. She wore a clean uniform, but the dampness of her hair betrayed her recent scrubbing.
Blair seized Lina’s hands and pulled her into the room. The gossiping maids outside, startled by Blair’s swift return, froze as she stood before them.
“Apologize.”
A cold frost settled in Blair’s eyes. The maids flinched, hit by the sudden intensity. They were accustomed to a Blair who remained as still and compliant as a painted doll, one who never lost her temper.
Faced with such raw, cold fury, they couldn’t utter a word.
Blair spoke again, her voice soft but lethal.
“I told you to apologize to Lina.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Grace. We haven’t done anything wrong…”
*Slap!*
The sound rang out, sharp and sudden. The maid recoiled, clutching her cheek. The others stood stunned, and Lina gasped in shock.
Blair looked down at the fallen woman, her own palm throbbing with a dull, phantom ache. She felt a sickening kinship with Katrina—a terrifying, visceral disgust that made her stomach churn.
But for Lina’s sake, she couldn’t retreat. She clenched her trembling hands.
“You know exactly what I am talking about.”
“Y-Your Highness, I’m really fine. Truly.”
Lina, finally snapping out of her daze, grabbed Blair’s arm. She knew the household already looked down on them; escalating this would only bring more trouble. If Headrin saw this…
“…I am not fine,” Blair retorted, her face a mask of sorrow and smoldering rage. “It is not fine that you are treated this way because of me.”
“What is going on here?”
Headrin appeared in the doorway, dressed for travel and pulling on his leather gloves. He must have heard the commotion.
“Y-Your Excellency.”
The maids and Lina paled, bowing low. Headrin stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the scene: the maid nursing her cheek, and Blair, whose hands were still shaking.
It took him only a second to read the room.
The struck maid, desperate, stepped forward.
“This girl was being arrogant and failing her duties, so I offered a small correction. There seems to be a misunderstanding on Her Grace’s part—”
“I did not ask you.”
The rebuke was calm, final, and absolute. The maid clamped her mouth shut.
Headrin turned his gaze to Blair, waiting. The maids held their breath, banking on the fact that Headrin would never side with the daughter of his enemy over his own staff.
Blair hadn’t expected him to believe her, either. But she refused to let Lina be the scapegoat.
“These people were bullying the girl I brought with me,” Blair said steadily. “So I punished them.”
The maids exchanged panicked looks, but Headrin’s voice cut through the tension.
“It is my failure for not educating my staff properly. I shall have these people dismissed immediately.”
The color drained from the maids’ faces. Blair stared at him, wide-eyed.
Lina intervened urgently. “Y-Your Excellency, please. I am fine. It was just a bit of banter, part of the process of settling in.”
Lina had no love for her tormentors, but she knew the brutal reality of what dismissal meant for their families. Blair, sensing Lina’s hesitation, softened her stance.
“Headrin, that… that is too harsh. A sincere apology and a half-month’s wage deduction should suffice.”
The maids fell to their knees. “We are sorry, Your Excellency! We were foolish! Please, forgive us!”
“The apology is owed to the Duchess and her maid, not to me.”
Headrin looked toward Mason, who had just arrived. “Mason, deduct two months’ salary from them.”
“Headrin.”
“I believe this is appropriate.”
He cut off her objection before she could speak.
“Your Excellency,” Ruth called out, checking his watch. The time had come.
“I will be back.”
Headrin reached out and pressed a lingering kiss to Blair’s forehead.
Blair stood frozen, only realizing the weight of the gesture when she saw the terrified expressions of the maids beside her. It was a clear warning: *This woman is mine.*
She watched his retreating back, feeling a strange, hollow ache where gratitude should have been.
It was a problem that had plagued Lina for three years, and yet, it had been dismantled by a few words from him.
* * *
That night, Lina entered the room with a silver tray, basin, and towel.
*Our Princess. If we leave her like this, those delicate hands will surely bruise.*
Striking someone required a certain hardness. A lady whose hands had never known labor surely couldn’t handle the shock of such an act.
*I’m sorry, Lina. I’m so sorry for realizing it so late…*
Lina felt a surge of indignation on behalf of her soft-hearted mistress, who felt guilt even after standing up for her.
“Your Grace, it’s me. I’m coming in.”
Lina nudged the door open with her elbow, and in her distraction, the silver tray slipped from her grip and clattered to the floor.
“Y-Your Highness?!”