“#9. Was She Always Like This?”
“Where do you belong, you little rat, coming all the way to the kitchen to steal food, huh?”
As Hemos stormed toward her with a knife in hand, Esica calmly reached out her hand.
Hemos’s brows furrowed as she pinched the blade between her index and middle fingers.
Thinking she was mocking him, he flared up.
“You filthy rat, what the hell do you think you’re doing…!”
He tried to yank the knife from her fingers, but it didn’t budge.
It felt as though it were caught between giant rocks.
Hemos twitched his eyebrows and applied more strength.
“…Huh?”
But strangely, the knife remained unmoving in the delicate grip of a maid.
He had no idea she was using a small amount of inner energy.
“L-Let go of it!”
“I merely stopped you from brandishing something so hideous, but the way you came running was awfully foolish.”
A chilling voice flowed from the lips of the dainty-looking maid.
“A maid, daring to speak like that!”
As Hemos groaned, trying to pull his knife away, Esica slightly applied pressure.
With a sharp crack, the kitchen knife snapped in two.
“……”
Staring in shock at the broken blade pieces clattering to the floor, Hemos stumbled back.
His eyes widened in horror and fear.
“W-Who… Who are you?!”
Just now, when she had calmly gripped the knife with two fingers, he had already felt something was off. But now—now he was certain she was no ordinary maid.
“Who sent you? Are you an assassin from Herald? If it’s about the gambling debt, I just need a bit more time…”
Esica narrowed her eyes.
Clearly, Hemos had mistaken her for someone sent to collect a debt—or worse.
Everyone has weaknesses, and Esica was well-versed in exploiting them.
Hemos’s weakness was money.
One of the easiest to control.
“I’m Esica Klaus. And you, who claim to work in the duke’s kitchen, don’t even recognize my face?”
At the sound of the name “Klaus,” Hemos flinched.
Staring at her for a long moment, he finally frowned and asked,
“Wait… are you the Duchess?”
Esica tilted her chin upward and gave a subtle nod.
The oppressive and dangerous aura about her made it hard to imagine she was the duchess.
But if she was… things were different now.
Running his hand over the few hairs on his head, Hemos sighed and asked wearily,
“Why have you come here, my lady? Even dressed as a maid.”
Naturally, Hemos looked down on the weak Duchess.
Among the servants, there wasn’t a single one who didn’t mistreat her. Showing kindness would only draw punishment from the Grand Madam’s maids.
“I have need of your help.”
At the word “help,” Hemos let out a snort.
He had absolutely no intention of helping the duchess, who was weaker than a scarecrow.
“Don’t say absurd things, and please return. If the Grand Madam finds out you’ve been wandering around, she’ll raise hell again. Besides, I’m very busy.”
What were those moves just now, anyway?
Muttering, he bent down to pick up the broken blade. But Esica took a few steps forward.
“In that case…”
At that moment, something shiny scattered in front of him.
Over ten precious pearls that she had previously received from Sella spilled out.
“What about this? Surely you’re not too busy to pick these up?”
Esica spoke as Hemos, eyes changed, looked up at her.
“I need your kitchen. And your cooperation.”
“W-Well… if you insist…”
He reached out for the pearls, already calculating. If he just ignored the silly talk of this naive duchess and pocketed the pearls…
“ARGH!”
But the moment his hand touched them, Esica stepped on it.
“W-What…?!”
She bent down, meeting his crumpled expression at eye level.
Their eyes locked—Esica’s were as icy as steel.
That gaze made Hemos feel like his heart dropped into a cold pit.
Earlier, when she caught the knife with two fingers, he had thought maybe she had practiced some martial arts.
But now, the woman before him…
“Hemos.”
Her eyes were glinting with raw killing intent, yet her lips wore a subtle smile.
This wasn’t a look one could mimic. It was honed through experience.
He had seen that kind of look on the Grand Madam’s face before—one that sent chills down the spine.
But this—this was far worse.
“It wouldn’t be difficult to report these pearls as stolen goods.”
“…Wh-What do you mean by that…?”
“You already sold three of my pearls to fund your gambling, didn’t you? They’re high-quality pearls from the Brigitte family. Each one has a tiny number inscribed on it.”
Cold sweat dripped down Hemos’s back.
“That means they can be traced.”
The chill deepened.
“Why are you doing this, my lady? You gave them to me as a gift, and now you’re—”
“They weren’t gifts. They were payment for services. But you failed to deliver.”
Pain throbbed in Hemos’s hand.
Payment? Oh… he remembered Sella giving him a recipe. He had sloppily prepared it and served it for breakfast.
Sella wasn’t backed by anyone important. Just a mere handmaid. He had ignored her complaint.
“I didn’t want the garbage you eyeballed into a pot. I wanted food with proper dosage and combinations—something that would produce medicinal effects.”
“M-My lady…”
“So in a sense, you’ve already stolen my pearls. And now…”
She pressed harder on his hand.
“You still dare to covet a noble’s treasure. That’s a crime severe enough to warrant the severing of your hands.”
Sweat soaked Hemos’s back.
In this world, stealing from a noble could mean losing your hands.
In the past, he might have relied on the Grand Madam’s power to deny everything.
But now, she no longer paid him any attention.
“The Duchess… was she always like this?”
He vaguely remembered her as a naive girl—too innocent to belong in Klaus.
But the woman before him now, pressing her foot down on his hand, radiated deadly energy so strong it made him question his memory.
“…I-I’m sorry! But what is it that you want from me to come all the way to the kitchen…?”
In the end, he had to ask.
Esica looked down at him with haughty eyes and slowly opened her mouth.
“I’m not afraid of the Grand Madam.”
“Th-That’s impossible…”
“Whether it’s possible or not—you’ll find out soon enough. But if you truly swear loyalty to me…”
She lifted her foot. Hemos clutched his throbbing hand with the other.
Her voice, sweet like rolling beads, was also laced with danger.
“You’ll gain much more than you lose.”
The pearls rolled near his hand.
It didn’t take great skill to pick up what had been discarded.
“But if you choose nothing—cutting off the hands of a chef who’s lost favor won’t be difficult for me.”
A cold smile tugged at her lips.
Meanwhile
“Keep close watch on Esica’s meals.”
Leona, lounging on the balcony getting her nails done, gave the command.
A maid bowed and responded,
“Yes, Madam.”
Rumors from the other maids said that Esica’s complexion was improving.
That couldn’t be. She should only be eating moldy bread.
It was impossible—unless someone was secretly helping her.
And if there was anyone in the manor defying Leona’s orders, they wouldn’t live to regret it.
Once the maid left, Leona spoke to another.
“Annie.”
“Yes, Madam. What is your command?”
“Have the musician play something. I just remembered a face I didn’t want to see…”
Leona’s beautiful brows were slightly furrowed.
“I need to soothe my heart with music.”
Annie bowed deeply.
“Yes, Madam.”
She went off to summon the expensive musician they had recently hired.
Soon, sweet melodies wafted up from the balcony below.
Leona closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.
The annoying memory of that vulgar merchant-born girl who crept into the Duke’s household still stung—but the gentle music seemed to melt her irritation.
“Prepare a dress. I must choose something appropriate for tomorrow’s tea.”
“Yes, Madam,” the maid trimming her nails replied.
At that moment
Resvan’s gaze lingered on a white butterfly in the garden.
Rippling waves on the lake, trembling eyes, soft fluttering hair—
And… a dream that had lasted a very long time.
Ever since that day from his painful childhood when he first met her, he had wandered in search of the figure from his dreams.
At some point, he could no longer tell if she was even real.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
A subordinate approached and reported,
“The investigation into Duchess Esica Klaus is complete.”
