Episode 8. Shaken Faith
I set down my cup and stayed silent.
Ryan didn’t like that—he tapped the table with his finger, annoyed.
“This isn’t the place for such questions, Your Highness.”
“I asked the duchess,” Hilvardo replied flatly.
Ryan grabbed my arm hard, then let go.
His grip carried his feelings—frustration, pressure, and a silent demand: answer properly.
“…Not every moment can be happy—”
“Then are you happy or not? Is the question really that hard?”
It felt like he was stripping me bare.
I took a deep breath and finally answered.
“Yes. I’m happy enough that you don’t have to worry.”
I placed my hand gently over Ryan’s and added,
“I truly love Stroud.”
Sure, I’d left a lot unsaid, but I thought it was a perfect answer.
But what I got back was Hilvardo’s laughter.
He pointed at his own eyebrow and said,
“You still haven’t fixed that habit.”
Only I knew what he meant.
The little twitch I did right before lying.
No one in Stroud had ever seen it—Ryan, the head maid—none of them knew. Because I’d never lied here before.
“Don’t trouble my wife any further. I can at least vouch for one thing—that she really does love Stroud,” Ryan cut in, breaking the heavy mood.
Hilvardo’s expression hardened for a split second… then went back to normal as if nothing had happened.
For once, I was thankful Ryan had read the room. It was also the perfect chance to change the subject.
“Your Highness, I heard you’ll be staying in Stroud to reorganize your forces. Is that true?”
“That’s right.”
“We’re also recruiting support troops as you requested.”
“Thank you for your effort.”
“It’s all for the Empire and this land.”
Thankfully, the talk turned official.
The tension in the room eased a little, and Ryan’s stiff face finally relaxed.
We talked about the upcoming schedule—preparations before marching to the border.
I brought up topics, and Ryan added to them, keeping the conversation going.
But every now and then, Hilvardo’s sharp gaze landed on me, like a blade against my skin.
I kept my smile, but inside, I was on edge the whole time.
It was exhausting.
Meanwhile…
Sola sat there, staring at the noble couple as they stood to leave.
At first, she’d been excited to see the “second male lead” appear.
But now, that thrill had gone completely cold.
Do they really fall in love with me?
That was all she could think about while watching them from her servant’s place.
The duke had defended that so-called villainess duchess seven times during the short conversation.
And the second male lead? He stared at the duchess like he’d die if he looked away.
Sola’s belief—that she’d be loved by everyone just like in the original novel—was starting to shake.
She recalled the story again.
In the book, the duke only started falling for her after she revealed she was actually a woman.
Do they only notice me once they know I’m female?
She remembered the scene: covered in filth from the stables, the duke told her to bathe in his personal bathroom—and that’s when her secret was exposed.
Should I just reveal it early?
If she did, maybe her relationship with the duke would improve faster.
Then, just like the original, she’d win everyone’s love.
Sola’s eyes followed the maids cleaning away the tea cups the “real” main characters had left behind.
I want it.
I want everyone’s love.
The sooner, the better.
I just want to be happy.
Evening fell, and the whole estate was buzzing with preparations for the banquet.
Every servant was busy—except one.
Sola.
Since she wasn’t allowed to attend to Ryan anymore, she volunteered to wait in Hilvardo’s room to help with his dressing.
Normally, it wasn’t her job. But she had followed along on purpose—hoping the second male lead would at least notice her.
“One servant is enough,” Hilvardo said, glancing at the two attendants lined up.
Sola immediately nudged her colleague’s arm.
She was trying to signal, I’ll stay, you go.
But he tilted his head in confusion.
“You were assigned to help with the banquet hall. If the butler catches you here, you’ll be scolded. Go back.”
Sola’s eyes darted nervously to Hilvardo. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care about their conversation.
“Let me take this one, please? Just for a bit?” she whispered.
His face stiffened. Clearly uncomfortable.
“No. You’ll get in trouble.”
“Just for an hour, okay?”
“I said no.”
Her lips jutted out in a pout.
He shivered a little, creeped out, then tapped her arm repeatedly, urging her to leave.
Fuming, Sola stormed out, leaving Hilvardo behind as he prepared to bathe.
Seriously? What’s so hard about switching jobs for a little while?
Because of one cowardly servant who was too scared of the butler, she’d lost her chance.
No eye contact, no moment, nothing with the second male lead.
She scratched at her hair in frustration as she walked down an empty corridor.
At the far end, she spotted Ryan’s chamber.
Then she heard it.
The sound of hurried footsteps, someone running up the stairs.
She instinctively stepped aside by the window to give space.
“There you are, Sola.”
Her body froze.
That name—she wasn’t supposed to hear it here.
At the top of the stairs stood a man she recognized.
A local physician, the one who ran a clinic near the slums.
He had no business being here at this hour.
Panicking, Sola rushed forward and clamped a hand over his mouth.
The old man’s wrinkled face scrunched up in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
Her scalp tingled, her heart pounded so hard it hurt, and sweat trickled down her back.
When she finally let go, the doctor glanced up and down at her servant’s uniform.
“…So you really work here?”
She only nodded.
Even though the corridor was empty, it wasn’t safe to linger.
She grabbed his arm and dragged him into a nearby study.
“Why did you come?”
The words came out sharp, her nerves already frayed. Running into someone she shouldn’t see here was the last straw.
“I came to tell you about Morant’s condition. And to collect payment.”
He meant well, but her snapping tone made him frown.
“You could’ve sent a letter! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could cause me by showing up here?”
“Your brother looks like he’ll die soon. I didn’t want to waste time.”
Her stomach dropped, but she pulled coins from her pouch and shoved them into his hand.
“Morant won’t die. Just… give him plenty of painkillers, so it’s not too hard.”
The doctor stared at the money, his thoughts racing.
Sola, wearing a servant’s uniform at the duke’s estate.
Morant, living as a noble girl in her dresses.
Her reaction when he’d almost called her name—his suspicions fit together fast.
“…Sol—no, Morant. Come visit home sometimes. Sola misses you.”
“I will. And if you need anything, send a letter. Just… don’t use my real name. You understand, right?”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Good. Then wait a bit before leaving. I’ll go first.”
Without waiting for his reply, she rushed out of the study.
The old doctor stayed behind, slipping the payment—nearly a month’s worth of medicine—into his pocket.
But unease tugged at him.
He hadn’t told her everything.
At the mansion gates earlier, he’d asked for Sola by name.
The guards swore no such servant existed. They refused to let him in.
It was only by luck—running into a higher-ranking knight—that he got through.
And now… he regretted not mentioning it to her.
Well… she’ll figure it out herself.
He sighed and opened the study door. The corridor outside was empty.
