“So, Miss Hailey Salmon, how does it feel to faint twice?”

The duke leaned back in his chair, his gaze full of reproach as it bore into her. Hailey, unable to meet his eyes, lowered her head in embarrassment.

“You seem to have mastered the art of being unproductive while consuming resources. Is your aspiration in life to be a parasite, Miss Salmon? If so, you seem to have a natural talent for it. Congratulations—it’s no small feat to discover one’s calling.”

“…My apologies, Your Grace,” Hailey murmured, bowing her head further, as though she had no words to defend herself.

Her submissive posture caused Tayton’s silver eyes to narrow slightly. The air around him grew darker, tinged with irritation. He studied her skeptically for a moment before speaking again, his voice as sharp as a razor’s edge.

“I didn’t realize Miss Hailey Salmon was such a timid woman. Or is this some sort of new strategy? Are you trying to act like a delicate noblewoman because you’ve heard I dislike unrefined women? If that’s the case, I’d like to inform you that you’re far too late.”

“That’s not it… but I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Hailey responded, bowing her head once more.

She knew better than to add excuses when apologizing. Adding “but” or “actually” would only strip the apology of its sincerity.

When it came to apologies, less was more—a life lesson Hailey had learned during her career. Moreover, she needed to stay on the duke’s good side, at least until Inspector Blair lost interest in her.

I shouldn’t have made an enemy out of him. Talking about the police department like that was a mistake, she thought regretfully, lowering her head further. Regardless of how difficult the duke might be, he was currently the only ally she had.

“….”

Tayton’s gaze lingered on her orange hair. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t quite orange. The strands that caught the sunlight shimmered with a faint reddish-gold hue.

He wanted to shatter her mask—to see her curse him and flee from this place like everyone else did. That would have brought him peace. Strangely, though, seeing Hailey treat him so nonchalantly unsettled him, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of unease. It felt like standing on unstable ground.

And yet, her mask remained intact.

Tap. Tap.

Lost in thought, Tayton tapped his fingers against the desk. Then, in a tone that was both casual and ominously deliberate, he called out her name.

“Miss Hailey.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m asking what’s on your mind, beneath that docile expression of yours.”

Caught off guard by his unexpected question, Hailey hesitantly raised her head. Her innocent, light-green eyes met his piercing silver gaze.

Blink. Blink.

Faced with his silent but oppressive stare, Hailey finally opened her mouth, uttering an uncertain “Um.” Though she still couldn’t fathom his intent, she knew this wasn’t a meaningless question.

Quickly gathering her thoughts, she chose her words with care.

“I was reflecting on how I’ve caused Your Grace trouble unintentionally, and I was also thinking that I should read you a longer passage in Santier today.”

Ha.

The duke said nothing, narrowing his eyes as he studied Hailey’s face. She wore the expression of someone shouldering the guilt of the world, looking like a criminal awaiting judgment. Was she being sincere? He seemed to be evaluating her words carefully.

Impossible.

“Fine. Then I shall magnanimously grant Miss Hailey Salmon the chance to escape her destiny as a parasite. Pick up that book and read.”

Tayton motioned toward a thick book sitting in the corner of the desk with a flick of his gaze.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Hailey started to approach but halted mid-step. The book was as thick as a brick, substantial enough to be used as a weapon.

Not that she was contemplating using it to bludgeon the duke to death. No, not entirely… Well, not at the moment, at least. Not until Albert’s attention shifted away from her.

I’ll think about the rest later.

“The History of Santis: From Ancient to Modern Times.”

Hailey read the title aloud, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. There was no doubt—it was bound to be an excruciatingly boring read.

At that moment, the duke’s intentions became crystal clear. He was lying in wait, eager to pounce on any mistake she made. Would she doze off out of boredom? Or perhaps throw a tantrum and storm out in frustration?

Not a chance. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Then get to work for today, Miss Hailey Salmon.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

With a deliberate smile, she offered a polite reply.

I’ll never fall asleep.

Her steps toward the sofa were laced with quiet resolve.

***

“Yaaawn…”

Hailey stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with one hand. She wiped away the tears that had welled up from sheer exhaustion. She had come dangerously close to succumbing to drowsiness, but somehow, she had made it through the ordeal unscathed.

The duke had been buried in paperwork, busily poring over documents without sparing her so much as a glance.

Yet she knew all too well—had she nodded off, she would have been met with sharp rebukes. He might even have seized the opportunity to dismiss her outright.

But Hailey had endured his relentless provocations, emerging victorious once again.

“To be or not to be, that is the question.”

Murmuring Shakespeare’s words under her breath where no one could hear, she opened the front door and stepped out into the garden. A walk always helped when her thoughts felt muddled. Moving her body was her go-to method for a mental reset.

“Ugh, gahhh…”

Hailey stretched languidly, basking in the autumn sunlight. The late afternoon rays warmed her cheeks with a gentle glow.

Inhaling the fresh air deeply, she finally felt her chest loosen. With a now relaxed expression, she began to wander aimlessly. Her gaze naturally drifted toward the fountain.

The sight of water droplets trickling down suddenly brought back a forgotten trauma.

Blood. Or perhaps a corpse.

Or maybe both.

“Am I going to faint every time this happens?”

Encounters with blood were inevitable in life. Accidents happen—a careless cut, a pinprick, even a random nosebleed.

Falling into a panic or losing consciousness every time was not an option. Hailey was determined to overcome her trauma. She had to—for the sake of a peaceful life.

“Good afternoon, Bill.”

Noticing Bill polishing a carriage, she slowed her pace. The man briefly nodded in acknowledgment before resuming his task.

“Every time I see it, I’m struck by how magnificent that carriage is.”

The four-wheeled carriage, decorated with gold, was a striking black. The doors bore the emblem of the Gunner duchy—two hawks etched in elegant detail.

Bill meticulously polished the already gleaming surface, ensuring it shone flawlessly. Hailey crouched nearby, watching him as he carefully cleaned every nook and cranny of the wheels.

For some reason, watching his methodical and repetitive movements always soothed her. It quieted her restless thoughts, leaving her mind clear and serene.

Perhaps it reminded her of distant memories with her grandfather, a time long past.

Her life with him had lasted a mere twelve years. After she entered university, he had declared that his responsibilities were done and moved into a retirement home.

It was less than half the span of her life, yet he had taught her so much in those short years.

“How long have you been working here, Bill?”

Without stopping, Bill oiled the hinges on the door and replied curtly, “I’ve driven for the previous Duke Gunner, so it must be over thirty years now.”

“Wow.”

Hailey’s admiration was genuine. Anyone who held the same job for decades deserved to be called a master of their craft.

Working in the real world had taught her how rare it was to stay with a company until retirement. The urge to quit could arise every other day.

Perhaps perseverance—working diligently whether or not anyone was watching—was the key to such longevity.

“No wonder your hands move so skillfully.”

This time, no reply came. He was not a talkative man, and, much like her grandfather, he seemed awkward in expressing himself. Perhaps that was why she felt more at ease around him.

“So, did you come to the capital with His Grace from the estate?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, to be trusted by His Grace… it must be hard work. Hang in there.”

With those words, Hailey suddenly stood up. The savory aroma of food wafting from the kitchen had begun to spread even to the backyard, signaling that mealtime was near.

“I need to get back to work before I end up being a useless parasite myself.”

Her footsteps, crunching softly on the lawn, receded toward the mansion. Bill’s indifferent gaze lingered briefly on her retreating back before he returned to his task.

***