Chapter 9
A sniffling sound could be heard. As Tristan closed the distance step by step, the sound of weeping became clearer.
When he stood before her, a wet rag bumped into his boot. Wondering who it was, the maid raised her head.
Her entire face was soaked in tears, yet her green eyes sparkled vividly. The tip of her nose was bright red from how much she had been crying.
A quick glance revealed the skin on the back of her hands was raw and chafed, and the tips of her fingers were stained black with dirt from the marble floor. As the weather turned chilly, her cheeks were flushed red with heat.
“I take it you got scolded a lot?”
“Get out of the way.”
The rag shifted in another direction. Irritated by the sight, Tristan pressed his foot firmly down on the rag.
“Go to the head maid and tell her that Hesse was the guy who drank with you. Why aren’t you doing something so simple?”
Red hair could be seen poking messily out from beneath her white kerchief. Putting force into the foot stepping on the rag, he continued:
“Let’s go to the head maid together.”
Leona glared at the foot stepping on her rag and tugged at it.
“It’s my business. Mind your own. If the head maid sees this, I’ll be in even bigger trouble. Just go away!”
“Look who’s acting proud when all she can do is cry. I clearly offered to help. You’re the one who refused it.”
When he finally lifted his foot off the rag, the redhead scrubbed the floor even harder, as if venting her anger.
With an annoyed stride, Tristan turned on his heel. She was so terribly eyesore-inducing—the red color of her hair, her raw, chafed hands, her knees resting against the cold stone floor…
Even the tip of her nose, turned bright red from crying. And those damnably sparkling green eyes. Everything about her was an eyesore.
Having lost his composure, he shoved open the door to his office forcefully and stepped inside. Surprised by the loud noise, Romero, who had been waiting, popped his head up like a meerkats.
“I am leaving for an inspection tour of the Amast border tomorrow.”
“Pardon? Didn’t you just do that last week?”
As a startled Romero approached, Tristan growled out:
“If I did it last week, am I never supposed to do it again? Has your discipline slackened as well?”
“Your Grace! If you go on an inspection tour, the border forces will be put on high alert. To go back to the place you visited just a week ago—”
“The castle feels suffocating.”
When he blurted these words out, Romero took a step closer.
“Once you hold the wedding with Her Highness the Princess soon, this suffocating feeling will all…!”
“Mention the Princess to me one more time, and you’ll be standing among the servants that very day.”
“Gasp! I will keep that in mind.”
Tristan threw his outer coat back on, unable to suppress his irritation.
As she scrubbed the floor, her mother’s face flickered before her eyes.
‘Mother, I’m sorry. If I had embroidered when you told me to, by now I’d be a sewing maid instead of scrubbing floors. I’m paying the price for not listening to you.’
Her knees had lost all sensation a while ago, and the skin on the back of her hands was cracked, stinging painfully. Because a harsh chemical had been mixed into the water bucket used to rinse her rag, a burning sensation flared across the back of her hands every time she dipped the rag in.
Far from taking revenge, she was on the verge of collapsing from scrubbing floors alone. At this rate, would she even be able to finish today? Tears fell in heavy drops as she thought of Hesse, who had dropped by earlier.
What would have happened if she had gone to the head maid with him as he suggested? Then he would have been fired instead.
Wiping her tears with her apron, she grabbed her rag just as the clicking sound of footsteps echoed from behind. It was the head maid.
“What is this? You’ve only managed to do this much?”
Grace’s sharp eyes narrowed into even sharper slits.
Leona suppressed her tears and gave a firm nod.
“Being so terribly slow… You must finish this entire hallway before the end of the day. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Head Maid.”
“If you fail to finish this today, you will leave the castle tomorrow. Keep that in mind!”
Grace’s black dress whipped up a gust of wind as she turned away. Listening to the retreating footsteps, Leona’s shoulders heaved as she sniffled.
I have to survive here, but when am I going to finish scrubbing all of this? I’ve been at it since seven in the morning, and I’ve only done a third of it. The sun is already setting…
It had only been a month since she woke up from her sickbed.
Before that, because of the iron arrowhead poison spread through her body, she would frequently pass out, leaving her with little time to learn housemaid work.
Even if she had learned, as the daughter of a ducal family who had no reason to do housework, there was no way she would be good at cleaning and doing laundry.
Did I enter the castle too hastily, driven to seek revenge with a body that hasn’t even fully recovered?
Leona scrubbed the floor mechanically while a whirlwind of thoughts crossed her mind. Once the sun went down, a chill crept into her body.
Turning her head to look at the remaining stretch of floor, tears rolled down her cheeks once more. The end of the hallway seemed impossibly far away.
Because Tristan’s expression during dinner was so severe, Dowager Grand Duchess Marien carefully read his mood.
“Is something the matter, Grand Duke?”
As she cut a piece of asparagus and placed it in her mouth, Marien spoke with elegance.
Tristan, who was slicing a thick steak, replied mechanically, “Nothing is the matter.”
He’s a son I’ve watched over for twenty-seven years—how could I not notice? He seems exceptionally sensitive today. Is it because the engagement is approaching?
“Grand Duke, Her Highness Princess Catherine will be coming to the castle early.”
“…”
“When Her Highness arrives, she will stay in the Grand Duchess’s quarters.”
Tristan’s cutlery clattered heavily against the table.
“The wedding hasn’t even taken place yet. The Grand Duchess’s quarters?”
Marien gracefully dabbed her lips with a napkin.
“Since you are to be married anyway, it will make it convenient to travel back and forth to your room.”
Between the Grand Duke’s room and the Grand Duchess’s quarters was a connecting door. Since they were to be husband and wife, the layout allowed either room to be entered at any time simply by opening that door.
“I will not permit it.”
“Grand Duke! Leave such matters to your mother.”
“I simply dislike the idea of someone having free access to my room at any given time. I forbid it until the ceremony is held. Let us end this conversation here, Mother.”
Surprised by his resolute response, Marien forgot to eat her food and stared at Tristan.
“I am merely obeying because an oracle was given. Therefore, do not demand anything further from me, Mother.”
Tossing down her napkin roughly, anger flushed across Marien’s cheeks.
“Are you still unable to let go of the deceased Chloe Montfier?”
Tristan bit into a piece of meat.
“Hardly, Mother. Why would I hold onto a dead woman?”
With a short chuckle, he chewed his meat and took a sip of wine.
“You had better not. If the King of Amast were ever to harbour feelings for a woman from a traitorous family whose face he has never even seen, the Principality of Amast itself would crumble.”
He set his glass down.
“Mother. Amast will not crumble. If one side must cease to exist, it will be the Brack Empire.”
“Grand Duke!”
“No matter how much Amast pays tribute to the Brack Empire due to a pact forged by our ancestors, the day that ancestral pact becomes meaningless, I will surely take the Empire into my hands. I already possess enough military power to do so.”
Marien clenched her fist tightly.
“The ancestral pact is a divine oath. If you break it, you will die, Grand Duke.”
“If I die and Amast can claim Brack, then so be it.”
“Never speak such words in front of your mother again. If you do, I will throw myself into the Amast Valley.”
With Marien’s usual repertoire coming out, Tristan put down his cutlery as if fed up.
“Therefore, just ensure that no one enters the Grand Duchess’s quarters before the ceremony is held. If you’ll excuse me.”
Roughly pushing his chair back, he stood up and exited the dining room.
An inexplicable rage surged up in his chest. Unknowingly, his steps carried him somewhere.
It was the northern hallway, where darkness had already fallen completely. When a white kerchief and apron came into view in the distance, his pace quickened. He spotted the red-haired maid leaning against the wall.
Having already taken off his Grand Duke’s cloak, he approached the maid and knelt down on one knee.
“Hey.”
When he touched her shoulder, the woman’s body slithered sideways. Catching her by reflex, he realized she had already passed out. He scooped Leona up into his arms.
Taking advantage of the dark hallway to slip into his room, he laid the maid on his bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and stepped back out.
When he pulled the bell rope, Romero came running.
“Your Grace! What is the matter?”
“Follow me.”
A short moment later, they were standing in the northern hallway.
“Within the next hour, scrub this hallway until it shines.”
“Pardon? The hallway…?”
“However, ensure that no maid, servant, or anyone else finds out about this.”
