Episode 9
Luckily, Lillian was a very fast runner.
After running for a long while—
“Haa… haa…”
I finally stopped behind the main building to catch my breath.
“That was close…”
What I just did—catching that flying piece of wood—was too quick and sharp for an ordinary maid. It looked like trained reflexes.
‘I don’t know how skilled the real Lillian was… but this was enough to make a knight suspicious.’
I clenched my little fist and promised myself: Stay away from the east wing for now.
A Walk to Think
Fortunately, I had no reason to go there anyway—there were already too many volunteers for knight errands.
‘Who knew I’d be so thankful that knights are hard to see?’
Yes, I lost one of the Grand Duke’s usual spots, but it didn’t matter. He just trained there. Nothing urgent to spy on.
So I walked to the west wing instead, pretending to take a walk to “digest dinner.”
‘But… what about my report?’
The deadline was coming, but I had almost nothing to report—only that the Grand Duke seemed like a homebody.
‘Will they come at night again, demanding another report?’
Even if the content was weak, I had still sent something. Maybe they’d give me more time?
Should I just write directly that I need more time?
“Ughhh, this feels like I’m a writer rushing to meet a deadline!”
In my past life, I worked multiple part-time jobs at once, but even that didn’t stress me this much.
‘If only I had Lillian’s memories, things would be easier!’
Wait. Memories… hadn’t they come back before?
Lillian’s Hidden Memories
Yes. The first time was when I found the secret note.
I wasn’t sure, but somehow I understood all the code. I also discovered the hidden spy tools in her room.
The second time was when I found her unfinished report.
Then I clearly remembered how to write coded messages and exchange them.
The last time was when I caught the flying wooden sword piece.
That moment gave me a strange déjà vu—like the memory was stored in this body itself.
And all of those times… were connected to spying.
Chills ran down my back.
‘Could it be… the more I act like a spy, the more of her memories return?’
I couldn’t be sure yet, but it wasn’t impossible.
‘At least worth testing once.’
I swallowed and steadied myself. Closing my eyes, I focused and breathed deeply.
“Fuu…”
This life was strange:
- Possessing the body of a maid who was actually a spy.
- Living in the mansion of the odd, dangerous Grand Duke Pelium.
- Dealing with his sly, suspicious aide.
Silence.
I focused only on myself.
Suddenly, I opened my eyes and swung my fist.
“Hyaaah!”
Whoosh!
My right fist sliced through empty air.
“Hup!”
Whoosh!
The left fist too.
“Yah!”
I tried a kick—wobbled, nearly fell over.
“Haa… haa…”
After several attempts, I realized:
‘…This isn’t working.’
I had expected some hidden instinct to kick in, like when I caught the wood. But nothing happened.
‘Maybe it only works when my life is in danger?’
I didn’t know the exact rule, but clearly this wasn’t the way.
‘Fine. At least I tried. There’ll be more chances later… maybe.’
I stretched my back with a sigh and walked away quickly—
not realizing that someone was secretly watching me.
In the Grand Duke’s Office
Later, Dylan reported to his master.
“She was throwing punches.”
“At who?”
“…At the air.”
Raymond’s (the Grand Duke’s) face twisted in confusion.
Dylan ignored it and continued:
“Of course, her technique was clumsy. But she seemed very determined. Maybe she imagined punching someone she hates.”
“Hm…”
“Oh, and she explained her sudden improvement. She said it’s because she’s shy, and it takes her time to get used to people and work.”
“Shy?”
Raymond chuckled bitterly. Dylan, however, nodded seriously.
“I understand. I’m also shy.”
“Really? That’s the most useless, untrustworthy, and unwanted information I’ve heard all day.”
“…Harsh, Your Grace.”
“Enough. Next.”
Dylan sighed. No point in arguing. Instead, he mentioned something else:
“She also had an accident before, remember? That could be part of it.”
Yes, the accident.
She fell down the stairs and hit her head. Two days unconscious.
Raymond hadn’t been there then, but the doctor said it was just a fall.
‘Could it really be only that?’
It was possible—big accidents sometimes changed people.
But Raymond’s instincts told him there was more.
“I agree with her explanation, though,” Dylan said. “I grew after facing life and death in war. Sometimes small things change a person completely. For better or for worse—”
“Dylan.”
“Yes?”
“Shut your mouth. Before I really change for the worse.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Dylan fell silent.
Raymond relaxed slightly and returned to thought.
Tick, tick, tick. The clock filled the silence.
Dylan watched his master. He found it strange.
‘Why is the Duke paying so much attention to this maid?’
Normally, Raymond Pelium was rational, cold, and thorough—sometimes almost inhuman. The servants feared him.
And yet, he was oddly focused on Lillian.
Recently, he had “disposed” of another real spy quickly. But with her, he was slow, uncertain.
“Should we just keep watching her?” Dylan asked carefully.
Raymond hesitated, then shook his head.
“No.”
Then he smirked, like he had thought of something amusing.
“I’ll find out myself.”
A chill went down Dylan’s spine. He had a bad feeling about this.
