Unlike the rough handling she endured when being forced into the carriage, the treatment she received upon arriving at the Duke’s estate was surprisingly respectful. The fact that Alejandro guided her through the mansion in place of Claus—who had vanished inside without a word—was testament to that.
“Ah, allow me to introduce you. This is Jeffrey Humphrey, the butler of the Baltezar Duchy. And this is Antonio De Hessink, the newest addition to our household. He will be working as a servant for the time being.”
A gray-haired man wearing a monocle leveled a stern gaze at Roselia, appraising her as if she were a piece of furniture. Knowing she would be tethered to this man for at least a year, Roselia offered an awkward smile and attempted a lighthearted joke.
“It sounds like twin names! Jeffrey and Humphrey! Hahaha!”
“……”
The result was disastrous.
Jeffrey’s expression, already cold, turned glacial. Alejandro, looking deeply troubled, stared at her with a silent plea for her to stop.
“Ahem! My, well… I suppose he must be exhausted from the long journey. Jeffrey, would you please assign Antonio a room?”
At Alejandro’s prompt, Jeffrey bowed stiffly and signaled to a servant standing behind him. The man, posture equally rigid, stepped forward.
“Denver, show our new arrival to his quarters.”
“Shall I place him in a double room with the others?”
“That would be best. Roy has been occupying a room by himself; it would be efficient if he were to share.”
Cold sweat prickled against Roselia’s spine.
A servant meant a man. She was expected to share a room with a man. She couldn’t very well demand a private room while posing as a common servant, but the prospect was mortifying.
Just as she stood there, paralyzed by a silent panic, her unexpected savior Alejandro stepped in front of Jeffrey.
“Ah, I neglected to mention: Mr. Antonio is a somewhat exceptional servant. While he is part of the staff, he is also the Duke’s business partner. Please, assign him a room near the Duke’s office—one where he can conduct business.”
At the detailed explanation, Jeffrey eyed Roselia with renewed skepticism. His expression clearly doubted that this frail-looking creature was capable of anything requiring real labor.
Roselia offered a shy, placating smile, hoping to start on the right foot. Jeffrey, ignoring the gesture entirely, bowed to Alejandro.
“Understood. I will escort him to the room at the end of the second floor, adjacent to the Duke’s office.”
Roselia let out a shaky sigh of relief.
Being near the Duke’s office was a nerve-wracking prospect, but it was far preferable to sharing a room with a stranger. It seemed more like a guest chamber than servant’s quarters. It was a stroke of immense luck, as it would be catastrophic if someone caught her undressing. Of course, the Duke likely only ordered the placement to ensure she was kept under his thumb.
“Follow me.”
The servant, Denver, led the way with a disgruntled huff.
Roselia bowed to Jeffrey and Alejandro, then scrambled to catch up. Denver walked with such brisk intensity that her shorter legs struggled to keep pace.
Just as she was cursing under her breath, convinced he was doing it on purpose, she rounded the corner by the stairs and collided with something solid. In her scramble to regain her balance, she instinctively lunged forward, clutching something soft to her chest as she stumbled.
“Closette!”
At Denver’s shout of alarm, Roselia looked down in bewilderment. She was holding a soft, sky-blue, cloud-like thing.
A sky-blue cloud? Clouds didn’t float through the corridors of the Duke’s mansion.
“How long do you intend to keep hugging me?”
The cloud spoke… No, that wasn’t it!
Flustered, Roselia realized she was holding a girl and sprang back, releasing her arms as if burned.
The girl—a child with abundant, wavy, silver-blue hair—scrambled to her feet, puffed out her cheeks, and glared. She was young, perhaps ten or twelve, likely far from her debutante ball.
“I’ve never seen this servant before…”
Under the gaze that swept over her like a merchant assessing a product, Roselia felt a spike of indignation.
“Who are you?”
The girl looked at her with utter disbelief, as if she had heard a heresy.
“You don’t know who I am? And you’re here, in this mansion?”
“Oh my, Lady Closette. I apologize! The new servant is ignorant and has made a grave mistake.”
Hearing Denver address the girl as ‘Lady,’ Roselia realized with a jolt that she was the daughter of the house.
Mistake indeed. If she hadn’t caught the girl, the young lady would have tumbled quite ungracefully onto the stone floor. Though any explanation would sound like an excuse, Roselia bowed calmly.
“I apologize for failing to recognize you, My Lady. My name is Antonio De Hessink. I started my service today.”
“De Hessink…? Are you a noble?”
“…It would be more accurate to say I *was* a noble. Now, I am merely a servant of this estate.”
“Hmm…”
The young lady’s sapphire eyes tracked over Roselia’s frame as if she had discovered a fascinating new toy. Her gaze settled on Roselia’s face, and her eyes curved into a pretty, intrigued crescent.
“You’re pretty. I like pretty things.”
Caught off guard—not sure if she had been discovered or if this was mere childish whimsy—Roselia stiffened.
“Is that so…?”
Under the intense scrutiny of those emerald-bright eyes, Roselia managed a tight smile and looked away.
Suddenly, a cacophony of footsteps erupted from the stairs.
“Lady Closette! Honestly! Running away again! I swear, this nanny will be the death of me!”
The girl turned toward the approaching nanny with a triumphant air, placing her hands on her hips. As Roselia glared at Denver in frustration, Closette declared loudly.
“From today on, Antonio will be my ‘Il Domestico’.”
“Pardon…?”
The response came from the nanny and Roselia in perfect unison.
As the flustered nanny eyed the stranger with deep suspicion, Roselia could only shrug with an innocent, aggrieved look.
‘Il Domestico’ was a term for the ‘handsome male servant’ currently trending among high-society ladies. Depending on the wit and appearance of their Il Domestico, a lady’s status and influence could shift significantly. They were often the objects of envy—and sometimes, they were used to extract information from rival families.
“I’m taking Antonio to the ‘Green Women’s Gathering’ tomorrow. See that he’s ready.”
Closette brushed past her, having stated her command with finality, and dashed out of the mansion. Roselia, left behind, repeated her question a beat too late.
“Pardon…??”
With the exception of Closette, the others stood frozen in a daze, only returning to reality at the sound of Roselia’s voice.
“Lady Closette!! You need to be prepared if you’re going to the gathering tomorrow!!”
Only after the nanny had scrambled off in pursuit did Denver and Roselia resume walking, both still looking dazed.
“You’re incredibly lucky. To catch the Young Lady’s eye on your very first day.”
At Denver’s disgruntled remark, Roselia ignored him and continued to walk.
Who asked to be an Il Domestico? It was true they received better treatment, but she wasn’t a real man, and she was currently weighed down by the burden of paying back 3,000 Berang.
Everything was unraveling in ways she hadn’t anticipated, and Roselia couldn’t help but let out a long, weary sigh.
***
Roselia, who had been waiting for Alejandro to visit, eventually grew tired as the sun dipped below the horizon and decided to prepare for bed.
After locking her door securely, she took off her shirt and unwound the cloth binding her chest.
“Haa… I can breathe again.”
An overwhelming sense of liberation washed over her.
Her breasts, not overly large but modestly rounded, heaved in protest. It was a blessing she hadn’t been well-fed growing up; had she lived in comfort, they would likely be much larger. The very thought was stifling.
Roselia hurried into the attached bathroom, fearful that someone might catch her, and finished her shower quickly.
Drying her short, black hair with a towel, she hesitated. Should she bind her chest again? She was going to sleep, and no one would come by… right?
Although Alejandro had promised to visit…
Roselia glanced out the window, shook her head, and collapsed onto the bed. The sun had long since set, and she had skipped dinner, leaving her drained of all energy.
Thinking it would be rude even for Alejandro to visit at this hour, she let her guard down.
That was when it happened.
*Knock-knock.*
She thought she might have heard wrong, but when the knock came again, sharper this time, Roselia jumped as if struck by lightning.
Could he actually be here?
She scrambled to grab the cloth, but in her panic, it slipped from her fingers. As the knocking grew more forceful, Roselia abandoned the attempt, threw the cloth aside, and yanked on her trousers.
“J-just a moment!”
She hitched up her pants and buttoned her shirt to the chin, checking her reflection.
It wasn’t much different from before, but if one looked closely, they would notice the slight protrusion of her chest. To make matters worse, she wasn’t wearing an undergarment, and the hardened tips that were so clearly flaunting their existence were an absolute nightmare. She wanted to cry.
*Knock-knock-knock.*
“Coming!”
With the increasingly impatient knocking, she rushed to the door and unlocked it.
Standing in the hall was not Alejandro, but the Duke of Baltezar.
“Oh…? Why is the Duke…”
As she stammered in confusion, Claus slowly scanned her appearance, his brow knitting in a dark furrow.
“Why are you hugging that large flower vase?”