“You don’t know what Closette wants?” Though his expression remained impassive, a chilling coldness dwelled in his eyes. “I know very well what Closette needs. For her future, she requires the family’s honor and wealth. In this garbage-like world, there is nothing more certain than that.”
Having said that, Klaus moved slowly until he stood directly in front of Roselia. His downward gaze was so freezing, bordering on lethal, that Roselia’s entire body stiffened, rendering her unable to even twitch.
“Antonio De Hessink.”
Klaus bowed his head, whispering into her ear like a growl. “Your only job is to pay back 3,000 Verang within a year. It would be best for you not to meddle beyond that. For your own sake.”
The breath that brushed her ear was hot enough to burn, yet it left a sensation so chilling it felt as if her ear were being bitten off. It was as if a sharp blade had grazed her throat.
Klaus turned his back on the frozen Roselia and walked away with cold detachment.
Left behind, Roselia trembled as the Duke’s killing intent still lingered in the air. Only after the Duke boarded his private carriage and his presence vanished could she exhale the breath she had been holding. She had never understood the descriptions in the original novel about the Duke being able to suffocate people with his gaze alone, but now, she felt it bone-deep.
As the tension eased, Roselia forced her trembling legs toward the mansion.
Near the entrance, Closette stood behind a tree, arms crossed, watching her with displeasure. “Don’t do useless things, Antonio.”
As if they truly were siblings, Closette said the exact same thing, wearing the exact same unpleasant expression.
“It seems I overstepped my bounds.” Feeling unnecessarily exhausted, Roselia offered an immediate apology.
Come to think of it, she really had done something useless. She had promised not to get involved with the Duke, yet she had meddled in an affair that neither the Duke nor the young lady welcomed.
Feeling bitter, Roselia bowed her head to the young lady and prepared to move aside.
Then, Closette tossed her a blunt remark. “Come down later to have dinner with me.”
With that, Closette disappeared into the mansion with an arrogant gait. Watching her, Roselia headed slowly to her room, wearing a confused expression.
Dinner time arrived quickly. Roselia sat at the table in relatively comfortable attire, wearing a poet shirt and neat trousers.
Behind the already seated Closette stood a row of servants and maids waiting to serve. Every one of their gazes flickered toward Roselia with disapproval.
Closette seemed to like the updo Roselia had styled for her; she remained seated with her hair still styled that way, even after changing into loungewear. Roselia couldn’t help but smile inwardly until Closette’s voice snapped her to attention.
“Earlier, you seemed quite accustomed to styling a woman’s hair…”
Closette’s gaze was sharp, not unlike her brother Klaus’s, making Roselia swallow hard.
“I used to style my younger sister’s hair often.”
“A younger sister?”
“Yes. After my father passed away, we had to let all the servants go, so… I often styled it myself.”
There had, of course, never been an instance of Antonio styling a sister’s hair. Still, since the servants were dismissed and he had to manage his own, it wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Where is your sister now?”
“She died. From the same illness as my father.”
It was ironic to be speaking of her own death, but she felt no sudden sentimentality. However, her response, delivered with a calm, indifferent expression, seemed to shock Closette so much that she dropped her spoon.
“She… died?”
Was she still too young to be accustomed to the word ‘death’?
“Yes, it hasn’t been long. The death report has already been filed.”
“Antonio…”
Come to think of it, Closette had also lost her parents and lived alone with her brother. Although Roselia and Antonio were strangers without a drop of blood shared between them… in a way, she could see why Closette might find their situations similar.
“You can style my hair often…”
Hm? What was this? What was with those watery eyes?
It was a situation where Closette had clearly misunderstood something, but Roselia didn’t feel the need to correct her, so she just offered an awkward smile.
“Were you close with your sister…?”
Roselia forced a smile, beads of sweat breaking out as she thought of the real Antonio. He had even shown a blade—or a version of one—at the end, parting ways in quite a brutal fashion.
“Yes, well…”
“It must be very distressing, having just sent your sister away…”
“Well… I suppose…”
“And then that cold-blooded man who only knows money brought you here to pay off a debt…”
“That is…”
The conversation had veered into a strange direction. While it was true, she felt uncomfortable that it painted Klaus as an even more unscrupulous villain.
“Don’t worry. If you always stick by my side, that cold-blooded man won’t be able to bully you.”
That was a bit problematic. If she didn’t hand over 500 Verang for the 20 she had received from Klaus within two months, it was certain that Klaus would peel her skin off. To avoid that, she couldn’t just stay by Closette’s side as *Il Domestico* all day.
“That is a bit difficult. I have other work to do to pay off the Duchy’s debt. Of course, I am not refusing to be the young lady’s *Il Domestico*, but I hope you will guarantee me some of my own time.”
At Roselia’s firm words, the brows of Closette, who had seemed to soften, furrowed unpleasantly.
“How much is that debt? Is it hard to pay off with the wages you get for being my *Il Domestico*?”
Though the nurse had promised a separate 500 Gran per week for her role, it would take at least ten years to pay off 3,000 Verang. Could she survive that long without her identity being discovered? Recalling Klaus’s murderous gaze, Roselia trembled.
“The wages you provide are far from enough.”
At her firm answer, Closette wore a stubborn expression, clearly having her pride wounded.
“How much do you owe?”
“5,000 Verang. Ah, I managed to cover some by selling the baronial mansion, so it would be exactly 3,200 Verang now.”
Hearing this, Closette froze, mouth agape. It seemed even she didn’t have the discretion to pay off 3,000 Verang at once.
“A-Alright. Then let’s make it so you only serve as my *Il Domestico* three days a week.”
It seemed Closette had compromised quickly. The sight of the arrogant, princess-like Closette backing down on her own was quite cute, and Roselia couldn’t help but let out a small smile.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“In exchange, you must style my hair whenever I want. The maids in the mansion can’t style an updo as well as you.”
“Of course.”
Just then, Denver, the servant who had been waiting, approached to refill Roselia’s empty glass. He seemed highly displeased that a new servant was catching Closette’s eye.
While Closette was distracted by her meal, the water bottle Denver was pouring from intentionally tilted toward Roselia.
“Hey!”
At Roselia’s shout, Denver finally pulled the bottle away and apologized with a feigned air of embarrassment.
“Ah! Oh, my apologies, Mr. Antonio. My hand just lost its grip…”
Closette, having belatedly noticed, looked over. “Antonio, what is it?”
Roselia, who had intended to call out Denver’s deliberate action, had to jump up as her thin, white poet shirt soaked through, clinging to her skin and revealing the outline of the fabric wrapped around her chest. Anyone with a keen eye could easily notice the padding.
“It is fine, my lady. I must leave the table first, as my attire has ended up like this.”
“What are you saying? You should at least finish your meal. I will scold Denver immediately.”
“No, I feel uncomfortable; I must go change.”
Roselia bowed deeply and, fearing someone might notice, hurried toward the dining room door.
It was then that the familiar voice of Butler Jeffrey was heard from outside.
“The Duke is entering the dining room.”
The door opened slowly, revealing Klaus. Roselia stiffened before him like a rabbit before a predator.
“What is going on?”
Having apparently heard the commotion, Klaus scanned Roselia and Closette with a stern expression.
Closette, who did not seem happy about his arrival, quickly clamped her mouth shut and turned her head. Klaus glanced at Closette, then looked at Roselia with an utterly impassive expression.
“You seem to have quite a lot of free time, seeing as you are even dining with Closette. Have you already gathered the 500 Verang?”
She wanted to leave quickly, but faced with Klaus standing right in front of the door, Roselia rolled her eyes in frustration. “There are still nearly two months left.”
“Indeed. I thought perhaps you had gathered it already, since I heard you had tagged along with Closette to a tea party as her *Il Domestico*.”
At Klaus’s remarks, dripping with sarcasm, Roselia’s expression twisted.
“I am not in a position to refuse the young lady’s request.”
It was a provocative look, as if to say, *Weren’t you the one who brought me into the Duchy as a servant?*
He stared directly into her gaze, which did not falter, before his eyes slowly drifted to her wet shirt.
Roselia’s shoulders trembled as his gaze touched her, but she gritted her teeth, struggling not to cover her chest. She knew that if she moved now, Klaus, with his suspicious nature, would only be more alert.
“Your shirt is wet. I don’t suppose you drank the water with your body.”
Klaus’s gaze then shifted toward the servants.
Denver, startled, bowed his head deeper.
Roselia, wanting to leave as quickly as possible rather than argue, bowed to Klaus and moved to step out.
“As you can see, my condition is such, so I shall take my leave.”
As she tried to pass by him, his massive hand suddenly seized her wrist.
Startled by the unexpected contact, Roselia looked up at Klaus with wide eyes.
Klaus was staring at her with his characteristic cold, sharp gaze.
“Are you hurt?”
To a question as sudden as the contact, Roselia couldn’t grasp the flow of conversation. “Yes?”
At her foolish question, Klaus narrowed one brow and looked down at her wet shirt. More precisely, his gaze was directed at the inside of the fabric.
“It looks like you have bandages wrapped underneath.”
In an instant, Roselia’s body stiffened, and cold sweat trickled down her back.