Chapter 7
George’s eyes widened blankly.
“…What?”
“You think I did all this just because I didn’t want to be thrown out of this estate?”
“…Wasn’t that it?”
“Not at all.”
The moment Rowena heard he planned to dismiss her, she had already decided to make him her subordinate—and her spy within the estate.
It would be a waste to simply discard him.
People like him—greedy and cunning—feared losing what they had the most. That made threats especially effective.
Rowena had always found such fools useful.
“I’ll tell you what to do soon. Until then, stay quiet.”
She crossed her legs as she spoke.
George stared at her, stunned, before asking:
“…Are you really the Clarissa I knew?”
“Watch your tone.”
“No—no matter what, how can I speak politely to a mere maid—!”
He stopped himself.
The confession in her hand—and the memory of his nose bleeding—brought him back to his senses.
He quickly corrected himself.
“…I’m just curious. You’ve changed so much.”
“That’s none of your business.”
Rowena replied curtly.
But for once, George was right.
Even dressed as a maid, sitting confidently with her legs crossed, she didn’t look like one at all.
Her presence filled the space—like a lone star shining in a dark sky.
***
Otille had thought she would finally sleep peacefully once Rowena was gone.
She wouldn’t have to see people praising Rowena.
She wouldn’t have to watch her father bow to Rowena’s father.
And most of all—
She thought she wouldn’t have to see Everett looking at Rowena with affection.
But although that Everett was gone—
He still didn’t look at her.
And she remembered clearly how he had collapsed upon hearing Rowena might be dead.
Everett was a strong man.
He led soldiers from the front, and his armies always won.
Yet when he heard Rowena had died, he broke down completely.
For a long time, he was like a ruined man.
Because of that, Otille couldn’t even present a fake body.
She had a chilling feeling—
That he might follow Rowena in death.
She had known both of them for years.
She understood him.
Rowena… Rowena…!
Otille clenched her teeth.
Why, even after Rowena’s death, was she still trapped in her shadow?
The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to find Rowena’s body.
There was no way she survived that fire—
But if she could confirm her death, maybe she’d feel at ease.
Yet the body hadn’t been found.
And Everett still held onto hope.
That’s why he says nonsense like that maid reminds him of Rowena.
Still…
Even Otille found that maid strange.
Too beautiful for a servant.
And her behavior—polite, yet bold—felt nothing like a maid.
Thinking about it made her irritated.
Next time I see her, I’ll put her in her place.
“Otille!”
The door burst open.
Her father, Count Fairborn, entered with a stern face.
Otille sighed inwardly.
Lately, he was just as exhausting as Everett.
“I heard the Marquis of Winsrop visited yesterday. Does he still have no intention of joining Stafol?”
“Not yet. It will take time.”
“You said before he’d be easy to persuade!”
…She had.
Back then, she believed Everett would move on quickly.
So she had secretly pledged loyalty to Stafol—and told her father afterward.
Naturally, he had been furious.
“Have you lost your mind? We were going to win—why throw it away?!”
“Father! Even if Greymont wins, does that mean we win? Haven’t you noticed they’re already excluding us?”
Otille had seen it clearly.
Despite their loyalty, Greymont trusted Winsrop more.
That’s why one was a marquis—and the other just a count.
“And I… I can’t watch Rowena marry Everett. You know I love him! If the war ends in victory, they’ll definitely marry!”
That had been the final push.
She couldn’t pretend any longer.
“Father… it’s Greymont that will fall, not us. Stafol promised to support our family.”
In the end, her father had no choice but to accept it.
But after winning, Stafol changed their terms.
They demanded Everett as well.
Without him, they couldn’t fully absorb Greymont’s remaining power.
Cowards…
The Duke of Stafol clearly doubted Otille could persuade Everett.
So she spread rumors—through Martha—that she and Everett would marry.
It would reassure Stafol.
So far, only a few people knew.
She needed to spread it further.
Everett, obsessed with finding Rowena, wouldn’t notice.
Even if he did, he’d dismiss it.
“He has no idea I was the one who leaked the information. So I have to be careful when persuading him—it takes time.”
Even Otille sometimes felt a chill thinking about it.
If Everett found out—
What would he do?
He must never find out.
Only a few knew the truth.
Her father.
The Duke of Stafol.
And Rowena.
Who was surely dead somewhere.
“Richard is another problem! He’ll arrive tomorrow—I’m worried he’ll notice something.”
At her father’s words, Otille frowned.
Her uncle Richard was troublesome.
Unlike her father, he was deeply loyal to Greymont.
He opposed their alignment with Stafol.
He claimed he was coming to manage the estate—
But in truth, he wanted to persuade her father.
Even though there’s no other option.
For a defeated family, there was only loyalty—or death.
“Behave yourself, Otille. I love you, but I won’t always take your side.”
“Of course, Father.”
She answered sweetly.
He was weak to her like this.
Her mother had left long ago—she was all he had.
“You must be tired. Sit down—I’ll massage your shoulders.”
He couldn’t refuse.
***
After seeing him off, Otille flexed her fingers.
“My hands hurt…”
She wasn’t used to physical effort.
Unlike Rowena and Everett, she had only supported from the sidelines.
Though pretending to be friends with someone you hate is even worse.
And she had done it perfectly.
“Marsha!”
At her sharp call, the maid hurried in.
“Yes, my lady.”
Otille held out her hand.
“Massage it.”
Marsha knelt and obeyed.
Otille relaxed slightly.
But then—
That annoying maid came to mind again.
Opening her eyes lazily, she asked:
“Marsha. Do you know a pretty blonde maid working here?”
