7.
“Ah, ah!”
A servant carrying a sack of wheat on his shoulder stumbled and fell forward.
The bag hit the ground, and the opening came loose. Wheat spilled everywhere.
“Are you alright?”
Julie quickly helped the servant up.
His palms were scraped red, and he looked ready to cry.
“What should we do?”
“First, let’s stand it back up.”
Together they lifted the sack and tied the opening tight again.
Just as they struggled to get it back onto his shoulder, the sack suddenly lifted smoothly into the air.
Julie and the servant blinked in surprise and looked up.
A dazzlingly handsome young boy stood there under the sunlight.
He balanced the sack on his shoulder like it was nothing.
“Where should I put this?”
The way he spoke—short and blunt—made Julie instantly think he must be younger than her.
“…Over there.”
She pointed silently toward the storage behind the mansion.
Her sharp eyes followed his back as he walked away. His broad shoulders, steady steps—everything looked strong.
He didn’t look like someone used to hard work, but he moved as if he’d done it before.
In no time, he carried several heavy sacks with ease, then dusted off his hands.
“Should I move those too?”
“That goes to the kitchen.”
He nodded and grabbed armfuls of food. Without even asking where the kitchen was, he walked off confidently—he must have memorized the way earlier.
Good eyes too, Julie thought.
But then she frowned.
Why isn’t he coming back?
She hurried toward the kitchen, only to find him standing under a big tree.
He tilted his head, as if looking at something.
Julie’s heart turned cold. She could already guess who was lying there.
“Lady Asha!”
She dropped the fruit basket she was holding and ran.
How could she be careless, letting a stranger wander freely around the mansion?
Four years had passed. Maybe she had let her guard down, thinking everything was safe now.
But she still remembered the day thugs had stormed the estate, and what horrors followed.
“Lady Asha!”
Julie rushed toward the ruined garden with a rusty rake in hand.
But before she reached her—
“Zaka?”
Anastasia Roxan opened her sleepy eyes and softly spoke a name.
Then she took the boy’s hand and sat up.
Julie froze in place. She needed to understand what was happening.
“What are you doing here?” Anastasia asked.
“I came looking for work.”
“…Did you get fired?”
“Something like that.”
“Not really surprising.”
“…Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“I am.”
Anastasia smiled lazily.
The boy slowly reached out and plucked a leaf from her golden hair. His expression softened. He smiled faintly.
“Who do I talk to for an interview?”
“Seems like you came prepared.”
“I’m always prepared.”
Julie stared, uneasy. Just moments ago, his face had been cold and arrogant. Now, it was gentle—like a purring cat.
Her chest tightened with unease.
What is with this boy?
Julie tossed the rake aside and strode toward them.
Anastasia noticed and waved.
“Julie. This is the friend I mentioned before. Zaka.”
Julie remembered. The young attendant from the imperial palace. She had heard his name at the victory banquet.
But why was an imperial servant here?
Her eyes sharpened with suspicion. Zaka smirked slightly, not soft at all.
Julie spoke firmly.
“We’re not running a charity. We can’t just take in anyone.”
It was true. Their family had a terrible reputation, and no one wanted to work here. Still, Julie couldn’t easily accept him.
Anastasia blinked, surprised at Julie’s reaction.
But Zaka said calmly,
“I’m different. The Baroness asked me to come.”
“…I did?”
Anastasia tilted her head, confused.
Zaka looked at her knowingly, like he expected that response.
“You don’t remember? You said you needed a strong servant, and I was perfect for the job.”
“…I don’t remember, but you’re right. That does sound like something I’d say.”
Anastasia shrugged with a sly smile, ignoring Julie’s sharp glare.
“Someone skilled enough to serve in the imperial palace—of course we’d welcome him. Right, Julie?”
“…Even so, he should have an interview. Don’t you agree, Lady Asha?”
“Of course. I’ll respect your opinion.”
Anastasia turned and secretly mouthed to Zaka: “Don’t worry, she’ll like you in the end!”
Zaka grinned down at her knowingly.
Julie bit her lip.
Fail. You will fail.
But unfortunately—
Zaka was the perfect servant for this failing household.
He cooked well. His cleaning was flawless—so good the old maid had to compete. He even climbed to the attic and cleared away Anastasia’s hidden wine bottles with ease.
He was strong, quick, sharp-eyed, and even drove the carriage better than their sick coachman.
There was just one problem.
He was too handsome.
Most servants didn’t see that as a problem. Only Julie did.
Lady Asha is weak to good looks!
When Zaka stood under the sun, even Julie had to admit he looked like something out of a painting.
And when his cold gray eyes softened while looking at Anastasia…
He seemed impossibly radiant.
Julie was sure—eight out of ten reasons Lady Asha liked him were because of his looks.
But even Julie had her limits.
In the end, she surrendered—to his cooking, cleaning, strength, and usefulness.
And so, after four long years, a new member joined the household.
Zaka dropped his belongings in a dark room and walked to the window.
He pulled the curtains aside, revealing the ruined garden outside.
He didn’t care that Julie disliked him. She was just another servant.
If Anastasia wanted him here, no one could stop it.
As he thought, everything went as planned.
There were a few annoyances, but nothing serious.
He sat in a chair by the window and stared at the faint silhouette across the yard.
Anastasia’s bedroom.
And a memory surfaced—
That day, on the terrace.
“But the garden’s hard to see from here.”
“Do you like gardens?”
“Yeah. You can see them better from higher up.”
When Anastasia suddenly climbed onto the terrace railing, he should have realized.
She scrambled up the carved stone statues like a squirrel, higher and higher.
“What are you doing? No, come down now!”
She climbed beyond his reach. For the first time in years, Zaka panicked.
“I’ll take you somewhere with a better view! Please, just come down!”
But Anastasia ignored him, balancing on the statue’s head, leaning forward dangerously.
“Oh! I can see better from here!”
Her foot pressed against the window frame as she tilted forward again and again, nearly falling.
Finally, Zaka begged.
“Alright! Fine, it’s my fault! I’m sorry! Just come down, please!”
At last, her golden eyes looked down at him.
She smiled playfully.
“There’s somewhere with a better view, you said?”
