“For the sake of the impoverished Baron Salmon, I suggest you endure for at least another day. Ah.”

As if something had just occurred to him, he lifted his head and locked his cold, metallic silver gaze onto her.

She met his stare with eyes that carried a subtle smile. No matter the situation, Hailey never lost her composure. A poker face was her specialty—one even the “Mad Dog” of her former workplace had found unnerving.

Sure enough, the Duke’s expression twisted. He smirked wickedly and taunted her.

“I’ll be sure to tell Marty to pay special attention to your meals. You probably haven’t had a proper meal in quite some time. Don’t hold back. Eat as much as you like.”

What might have seemed like kindness at a glance was, in fact, a deliberate insult aimed at crushing Hailey’s pride. Having delivered his sharp words, Tayton narrowed his eyes, watching for her reaction.

Would she lash out in anger? Would her wounded pride bring her to tears?

But once again, Hailey simply smiled. She had remained unshaken even when the “Mad Dog” had thrown documents at her in front of the entire team. She wasn’t about to crumble now.

“I deeply appreciate your generosity, Your Grace. I’ll be looking forward to dinner.”

The silver eyes furrowed once more. Clearly, he was displeased by her lack of reaction.

Go on, provoke me all you want. Let’s see if I react. The first to lose their temper loses.

I survived under the Mad Dog. What’s a cursed duke to me? Don’t underestimate a former corporate worker who sold her soul for a paycheck.

Even as her mind was filled with complaints about the Duke, Hailey maintained a kind and gentle smile. The Duke, now thoroughly irritated, waved his hand once more—an unmistakable gesture for her to get out.

With flawless grace, Hailey bowed her head before slowly turning away. As she stepped out, the heavy door closed behind her.

Sigh.

At last, she exhaled the breath she had been holding. Had she been tense without realizing it? Her shoulders felt stiff.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she slowly turned her head to glance at the closed door.

No, more precisely, the detestable duke beyond the thick door.

Hailey, who had been glaring at the door with sharp eyes, lowered her gaze. A sigh-like mutter escaped through her teeth.

“Slow and steady. As if I don’t exist.”

Repeating the words like a mantra, Hailey finally took a step forward with a composed expression. She was not a goldfish; she would never repeat the same mistake twice.

***

As Hailey descended the central staircase, she suddenly stopped in place. A maid carrying charcoal hurried past her.

Catherine, was it?

Hailey approached her and greeted her warmly. It was always better to be on good terms—there was no need to make enemies of the servants since she had decided to stay here.

“Looks like preparations for dinner are underway.”

Catherine glanced at her sideways but walked away without a word. Hailey faintly furrowed her brows as she watched the maid disappear.

“Hmm.”

A subtle sound escaped through her teeth.

She had already anticipated that life in the duke’s mansion would not be easy. It was a cursed place where eight tutors had fled. If things had gone smoothly here, that would have been the real surprise.

Hailey never entertained the arrogant thought that she could accomplish what others had failed to do. Nor did she have any desire to.

But there was an unexpected obstacle she hadn’t foreseen. A thought crossed her mind—perhaps the reason those eight noble children had run away wasn’t just because of the duke but also because of the servants’ hostility.

“It’s not entirely impossible.”

To be invited as the duke’s tutor, one had to be a noble at the very least. Given that even Baron Salmon had received the offer, it must have been initially extended to nobles of higher status.

In other words, low-ranking maids had likely tormented noble children.

“So, it’s not impossible, after all.”

Even in government offices, civil servants often held more influence than appointed ministers. Similarly, in certain regions, the local magistrate’s power sometimes surpassed that of the governor who was stationed there for only a few years.

The harassment wouldn’t have been obvious. At most, it would have been subtle neglect—ignoring them, refusing to serve them properly, or gossiping loudly enough for them to hear.

But that was more than enough to isolate a noble lady who had been raised with care.

Seventy percent due to the duke’s foul temper, and thirty percent because of the servants’ hostility? Or was it more like eighty to twenty?

“Either way, it’s not a curse.”

Hailey shrugged lightly and stepped outside the front door. There was nothing she could do unless she intended to grab Catherine by the hair.

A rich aroma filled the air, likely from soup being prepared in the kitchen. She was starting to feel hungry, but no one invited her for tea.

After taking a slow walk around the garden, she leisurely made her way to the back of the building. She was searching for a retreat—a place where she could take a breather, just like every working professional needed.

“Is that a stable?”

She spotted two buildings too large to be mere storage sheds. As she approached, she saw a middle-aged man tending to a carriage.

As she had suspected, one building was a stable, and the other was a carriage house.

The man, with a rugged face and a thick beard, turned slightly, sensing her presence. Hailey offered him a friendly greeting.

After all, first impressions were important no matter where one went.

“Hello. I’m Hailey Salmon, and I’ll be staying here from today.”

The man barely nodded before resuming his work.

Hmm.

Hailey subtly furrowed her brows as she recalled the people she had encountered so far—the duke, Madame Mastis, Catherine, and now this man.

Perhaps first impressions didn’t matter much in this place. The only person who had responded properly to her greeting was Peter.

“Surely, returning a smile to a greeting isn’t considered a grave offense… right?”

Letting out a small sigh, she crouched down beside the man. He glanced at her dress dragging on the ground but soon ignored it and focused on his work.

Watching the mechanical movements of his hands, Hailey let out a relaxed breath. His silence was different from Catherine’s.

If Catherine was someone who flaunted her superiority under Madame Mastis’s protection, this man was simply rough around the edges.

And Hailey liked people like that. Those who were clumsy at expressing themselves but whose words and actions carried genuine sincerity. They were dependable and loyal.

Like Hyein’s grandfather.

Hyein’s father had married against his family’s wishes and, as outcast sons often did, severed ties with his household. Hyein had met her grandfather for the first time only after losing her parents in an accident.

Their relationship was awkward at best. Seven-year-old Hyein was more perceptive than other children her age and instinctively understood that without her grandfather, she would end up in an orphanage.

So she became a good child.

That didn’t mean she and her grandfather grew close. Their relationship remained stiff, their interactions limited. Conversations between them were few and far between.

After all, what could a sixty-year-old man and a seven-year-old girl possibly talk about?

But sometimes, her grandfather would squat in the yard, quietly tending to her bicycle. It started the day after she had tumbled over and returned home bleeding from a loose chain.

From then on, he checked her bicycle once a week—pumping air into the tires, tightening the chain, and wiping down the frame.

Even after she started high school and stopped riding it, he never neglected the task. It was like a sacred ritual.

Each time, Hyein would crouch beside her grandfather and carefully watch his meticulous hands at work. They rarely exchanged words. Silence was everything between them.

Yet, Hyein cherished those moments.

“……”

Staring blankly at the thick fingers, Hailey slowly closed and opened her eyes, trying to shake off her thoughts. Now that her only family—her grandfather—was gone, she had no lingering attachments to this place.

Her gaze shifted to the side. Tools used by men were neatly arranged on the ground. An oil-stained cloth, a hammer, a lever, and a brush were all lined up without a single thing out of place.

As she quietly observed, Hailey suddenly spoke.

“Did you tend to the garden as well?”

Indifferent brown eyes turned toward her. Without much thought, Hailey continued, her tone casual.

“You must like things to be orderly.”

The man’s gaze moved to the tools beside him. Realizing a moment too late what she meant, he resumed polishing the carriage wheel.

“Ugh.”

Hailey pushed herself up by her knees and stretched before saying, “Well then, see you next time.” She turned to leave.

Just as she took her first step—

“Bill.”

A blunt voice pierced the air. Hailey stopped mid-step and turned back to look at him.

Bill was already oiling the carriage wheel. It was a grand four-wheeled carriage, adorned with an engraving of a golden falcon.

Hailey’s eyes curved into a smile. She found the man before her quite likable.

“The Duke is lucky. With you around, his carriage will never break down while on the road. See you next time, Bill.”

Stretching her stiff shoulders, Hailey let out a satisfied sigh and walked away at a leisurely pace. On her way, she considered stopping by the greenhouse she had noticed earlier.

A greenhouse untouched by people would make for the perfect hiding spot. If it had plants with leaves large enough to conceal her, even better.

****