“Shasha.”

With my eyes gently closed, only my lips moved. At once, Shasha replied, “Yes, milady,” and began to stroke my hair softly. Before long, a familiar scent brushed against my senses.

It was similar to the oil my mother used when I was young—something she’d said was essential for maintaining beautiful hair.

“What does the Grand Duke want from me?”

Just as I had with Eric earlier, I posed the same question to Shasha. Since she, too, had come from Balthazar, I expected she might give the same answer.

But to my surprise, she said nothing.

“Shasha?”

Does she not know?

When I called her softly, Shasha withdrew her hand from my hair and began rummaging around for something. Soon, she approached the tub and crouched down in front of it.

“I’m sorry, milady.”

With that, she dropped a bath additive into the water.

“Oh. So you don’t know.”

Instead of answering, Shasha broke into a bright smile.

“The Grand Duke is a truly kind man. I just hope you’ll know that much.”

Small bubbles began to form from the bath additive she’d dropped into the water. I couldn’t help but feel a little startled—it was my first time ever seeing a bath that foamed like this.

After that, the conversation between Shasha and me came to a halt. She washed me in silence, tending only to the bath itself—occasionally pouring warm water over me to adjust the temperature, nothing more.

“Milady, if it wouldn’t be rude… may I tell you a little about my homeland?”

By the time the bath was nearly finished, Shasha finally spoke again. The way she glanced at me as she did made her sound cautious.

“I’d be glad to hear it,” I replied. “I don’t know much about the outside world.”

“Thank you, milady.”

Truth be told, I’d been curious about the Duchy of Balthazar as well. I’d heard bits and pieces through the house steward before, but nothing of real substance.

As she carefully washed every inch of me, Shasha spoke of how the duchy had been founded, its relationship with the empire, and the current Grand Duke. None of it was particularly informative—but what surprised me was that the Grand Duke wasn’t described as a tyrant.

The man known as a butcher within the Caspar Empire, yet praised as a benevolent ruler here—it was intriguing.

But only to that extent.

“It’s admirable, how much you love your homeland.”

“Oh—thank you, milady.”

“But it makes me wonder what your intention is, telling me all this.”

Though I spoke as calmly as I could, Shasha froze, her hands stilling as she tightened the corset. It was only for a moment, but her flustered expression was unmistakable.

Instead of pressing her again, I slightly turned my head to look at her. As expected, Shasha met my gaze with eyes full of surprise.

“I just hoped that you might think well of him, milady.”

“By ‘him,’ you mean the Grand Duke?”

“…Yes.”

Seeing her hesitate so shyly, I almost teased her—but decided against it. It felt a little cruel to toy with someone who was helping me.

“That’s not something you need to worry about,” I said. “I already think he’s a good man.”

“Really?”

“Of course. How could I think poorly of someone who’s helping me like this?”

Of course, I couldn’t set aside my doubts entirely until I understood his true intentions—but still.

“Thank you so much, milady!”

Just moments ago she’d looked utterly deflated, but the instant she heard my answer, Shasha’s hands began moving briskly again. Thanks to that, it didn’t take long before we arrived at the vanity, where my dress was waiting.

[Allow me to assist with your preparations.]

When I returned to the drawing room, Eric pulled the chair at the vanity back slightly and smiled at me. Aside from the bandages wrapped around him, there was little about him that could be faulted.

Most people wouldn’t go this far.

Then again, perhaps the servants who had originally belonged to this estate had been the strange ones.

“Milady! I’ll bring some light refreshments for you to enjoy!”

The moment I sat down, Shasha spoke up loudly, then all but ran off toward the kitchen. As a result, the only ones left in the drawing room were Eric and me.

I wondered if Eric was truly going to help with my grooming—but he did.

“….”

He started by carefully drying my still-damp hair. He moved his hands with such excessive caution that it was almost frustrating to watch. More than that, for someone who’d volunteered to help, his touch was remarkably clumsy.

“Um… Eric.”

When I finally spoke up, Eric—who had been patting my hair dry with a cloth—met my eyes in the mirror.

“I’ll do it myself. Hand it to me.”

“……”

“Hurry.”

Watching him do it like that, I’d rather just do it myself.
I didn’t quite bring myself to say that out loud—only crooked my finger at him instead.

Eric clearly didn’t like the idea of handing over the cloth, but he did so anyway. And he did it as though it pained him to part with it.

Tap-tap! Tap! Tap-tap!

Eager to dry my hair as quickly as possible and head out, my hands moved briskly. The ends of my hair made a sound not unlike laundry being snapped dry.

Tap.

All of a sudden, Eric’s hand touched mine.

He didn’t just stop me from drying my hair so roughly—he swiftly took the cloth back as well. Then, just like before, he resumed drying my hair with painstaking care, gently patting it as though afraid to damage it.

For some reason, it felt like I was being treated as something precious.

Almost… cherished.

“Uh—”

I thought about saying something, but for some reason, the words stuck in my throat.

When I glanced at the mirror, I saw my cheeks flushed red. And there, reflected beside me, was Eric—wearing a soft smile.

[Are you uncomfortable?]

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but when I finally came back to my senses, Eric was holding his notebook again. In his other hand was a comb—apparently, he was done drying my hair.

“Ah—no. I was just… lost in thought for a moment.”

At my words, Eric lowered his gaze slightly, the corner of his lips lifting just a fraction before settling again. It looked as though he were forcibly holding back a smile—at least, that’s how it seemed to me.

“I’m just saying this so you don’t misunderstand, but I wasn’t thinking anything strange.”

I blurted it out, feeling oddly self-conscious. Even so, Eric didn’t respond verbally. He only nodded—wearing a brighter smile than before.

***

“You devil of a b*tch!”

No sooner had I finished getting ready and stepped outside than the house steward began screaming as if he’d been waiting for me.

So much for a quiet stroll through the back garden. My mood was instantly soured.

“I’ll kill you, you wretched wh*re!”

As he spat curses, the iron collar around his neck caught the light and glinted. It was connected to a rope tied around one of the estate’s pillars—thick enough that it clearly wouldn’t snap easily.

“If you thought you’d get away with pulling something like this, you’re gravely mistaken!”

I’d thought it might be fitting to have him tied up outside the estate—but I hadn’t expected him to be bound like a dog.

What’s more, his arms were tied behind his back, his chin pressed into the ground as he glared up at me. It was almost comical.

Honestly, he wasn’t even worth glaring back at.

Anyone could see who held the upper hand now—and it certainly wasn’t him.

“Oh dear. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Laughter threatened to spill out of me. It took everything I had to suppress it, settling instead for the faint curve of a smile at the corner of my lips.

Unaware of any of that, the house steward simply kept shouting, veins bulging at his neck, repeating the same words over and over.

“You devil of a b*tch!”

“Shasha.”

“Yes, milady.”

At my call, Shasha hurried over from where she’d been standing behind me and bowed.

“Could you bring me whatever’s left from breakfast? As much as possible.”

“Yes, milady!”

Shasha rushed back into the estate and returned a few minutes later with a thick bowl of barley porridge. Before taking it from her, I scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground.

Then I dumped it all into the bowl.

I added a vine from the rosebush nearby, along with leaves from an unfamiliar tree.

“Just wait a moment.”

Once everything was mixed in, I stirred it briskly and laughed.

“W-what… what are you doing now?! What are you scheming this time?!”

“Oh my. That’s a hurtful thing to say.”

The barley porridge, once a rich ivory color, turned the shade of an oak acorn after just a few stirs. When I lifted the spoon, it dripped thickly back down—an oddly satisfying sight.

Still, no matter how I looked at it, something felt missing.

So I had Shasha fetch a worm from the vegetable garden.

“It is your meal, after all.”

Shasha returned surprisingly quickly with the worm, and I gently laid it atop the porridge.

Like a garnish.

“Enjoy your meal.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I set the bowl down in front of the house steward.

For someone noble to the bone, there was no doubt this would scrape painfully at his pride.

I found myself curious about how he’d react. So I crouched down in front of him and smiled brightly.