Chapter 2
Rowena turned her gaze to the man who had barged in rudely.
He was a young man with an unimpressive appearance.
He didn’t look like a noble, but he was too neatly dressed to be a mere servant. Most likely, he was a butler.
Is he the man from the diary?
As Rowena stared silently, the man glared back.
“You insolent thing. How dare you ignore my orders again? I clearly told you to bring tea and dessert to my room after dinner!”
“……”
“Are my words a joke to you? Do you think the head butler of this household is someone you can ignore?!”
At his sharp tone, Rowena realized—he was indeed the butler mentioned repeatedly in the diary.
His brown eyes burned with anger, his lips twisted, and his forehead flushed red. He looked like he could explode at any moment.
Rowena calmly assessed the situation.
If I deal with him half-heartedly, this will only become more troublesome later.
If she let him go now, he would keep abusing his authority, touching her, and forcing her to listen to his nonsense.
She didn’t have time to waste on someone like this.
Better to make sure he never dared to approach her like this again.
Having decided, Rowena looked up at him and spoke coldly:
“Why should I?”
The man looked like he might faint from anger.
“Have you lost your mind? ‘Why should I?’ you say?!”
“You’re not the master of this house. Servants don’t wait on other servants.”
The man faltered for a moment.
“E-even so…! With a single word from me, you could be stuck washing laundry until your hands blister again! Or I could send you to the pigsty where the stench burns your nose!”
So that’s why her hands were so rough.
Not just her hands—her pale complexion suggested she had been overworked.
As Rowena silently analyzed, the man mistook her silence for submission and regained confidence.
“That’s better. You should behave like this. For a moment I thought you’d taken some strange drug, talking back like that.”
“……”
“Let’s make this easy. If you obey me, we won’t have any problems. You’ll have an easy life, and I’ll treat you well—”
As he reached out to touch her cheek, Rowena twisted his wrist.
“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands.”
Her eyes flashed coldly.
For a brief moment, she understood the humiliation Clarissa had endured—like being swarmed by an annoying insect.
“Y-you…! Let go of me!”
As he struggled, Rowena pulled out a hairpin and pressed its sharp end to his neck.
“Listen carefully, you piece of trash. Killing you here would be easier than crushing a bug.”
Her gaze wasn’t just threatening—it was deadly serious.
“If disposing of your corpse is troublesome, I could just crush what’s between your legs instead. That wouldn’t even take much effort.”
“Ah…! Ah…!”
The man’s face turned pale instantly.
“But I don’t feel like doing either. I’d have to touch something disgusting.”
She shoved him away. He collapsed awkwardly onto the floor.
Panting, he managed to speak:
“C-Clarissa… do you think you’ll get away with this?”
“You’re the one who should worry. If you come to my room even once more, I’ll poison your food and kill you without a trace.”
It was only a threat for now—but as a maid, it wouldn’t be difficult to carry out.
“This is insubordination! I’ll report you to Madam Martha—!”
“Go ahead. But if you do, you’ll also have to explain how you almost got castrated by a maid.”
Rowena smiled faintly.
“How pitiful. The maids will be gossiping in no time.”
“Y-you… how dare you…!”
Though furious, he couldn’t argue further.
Rowena watched him with a small smile.
I know your type well.
Men who bully the weak to compensate for their fragile pride—and who would do anything to protect that pride.
That pathetic pride worked in her favor now.
Grabbing his collar, she whispered:
“Afraid of rumors? Then get out of my sight. And live quietly like a dead mouse.”
“……”
“Or stay here and lose what’s between your legs.”
The man trembled, then scrambled to his feet and fled.
“Ah—ahh!”
Left alone, Rowena relaxed her wrist.
It’s been a while since I used force.
Even as nobles, members of the Greymont family were trained in basic combat.
And with her secret techniques, killing someone like him would be effortless.
She knew various techniques—freezing movement, enhancing strength, creating brief illusions.
But since they were secret, she rarely used them.
Not even Otille or Everett had known about them—that’s why she was still alive.
As the room fell silent, Rowena picked up the diary again.
Most of it described George’s harassment.
Maybe I should’ve just crippled him.
Then, near the end—
She saw a familiar name.
Otille.
Rowena froze.
…Does this body’s owner know Otille?
She quickly read.
Clarissa wrote about George’s harassment—and also mentioned Martha, the maid of Lady Otille, who always sided with the butler.
Rowena narrowed her eyes.
If Otille is mentioned here…
That meant this was the Fairborn Count’s estate.
Which meant—
Otille was here.
Rowena let out a quiet laugh.
What a coincidence—that Clarissa had been a maid in Otille’s household.
It was as if fate was on her side, guiding her straight into the enemy’s nest.
You have no idea I’m here.
A faint smile curled her lips.
She was almost looking forward to this new life.
***
Elsewhere
“Still haven’t found her?”
In the Winsrop Marquis estate, Everett slammed his desk.
Everett Winsrop—a handsome man with sharp features, black hair, and blue eyes.
His aide answered nervously:
“Most bodies were burned beyond recognition… and the Stafol family isn’t cooperating…”
Everett clenched his teeth.
This situation wasn’t entirely unexpected.
The Winsrop and Fairborn families had long been Greymont’s closest allies.
Yet after the victory, Stafol demanded Everett’s loyalty in exchange for sparing his life.
It was humiliating.
I shouldn’t have listened to Otille that day…
He regretted it.
When the castle burned, he had tried to find Rowena—but Otille stopped him.
She told him Rowena had given up and that her room had already collapsed in flames.
Everett collapsed on the spot.
Later, regret consumed him.
Even if it was too late, he should have gone to her—should have died with her.
From that day on, though his body lived, his soul died with Rowena.
What remained was resentment.
Was I nothing to you?
Did she abandon her life so easily?
He had even considered dying—but stopped when her body wasn’t found.
Maybe she was still alive.
So he postponed death.
He would follow her once he found her body.
As the aide left, Otille entered.
“Everett!”
She glanced at the aide and asked lightly:
“You’re still pressuring them about Rowena’s body?”
“Don’t speak of it so lightly.”
Everett’s voice turned cold.
Otille flinched, then smiled gently.
“I’m not unaffected either. But the living must go on. The Duke of Stafol has given us a chance.”
“A chance? I’d rather die than beg someone like him.”
“Don’t say that… If you die too, what will I do…?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
But Everett didn’t even look at her.
Instead, he asked coldly:
“More importantly, Otille… has the traitor who leaked the military secrets been found yet?”
