The word ‘annex’ came as a relief to Helena.

It was just as well – she had reached her limit.

If she had to look at Count Ishpern’s face a moment longer, she was sure she’d jump on him with her nails and rip the skin off his smug face.

But the servants, wearing their hopelessly vacant expressions, said:

“The annex, sir? We didn’t clean the annex.”

Helena gave a smile as cold as ice.

‘If the annex wasn’t cleaned… then this is the cleaned version of the main castle?’

As she stood there, wondering if these stupid servants had somehow confused the words “clean” and “neglect”, Count Ishpern suddenly snapped at her.

“I clearly told you to prepare a place for my wife!”

The servants trembled, visibly frightened of their master – but they still managed to get their words out.

“We have, sir. We… have prepared the master bedroom.”

At the word ‘master bedroom’, Helena and Benjamin turned to look at each other.

The expressions they exchanged could only be described as sheer devastation.

Helena spoke first.

“I can’t take this anymore. I don’t care if it’s the master bedroom or a dungeon – just get me a hot bath and somewhere to sleep.”

Benjamin looked like he was going to say something.

But even he—devil that he was—seemed to recognize that pushing her further at this point would be inhumane.

He hesitated, swiping a large hand near his mouth as if to steady himself, then gave the servant a curt order.

“…Fine. Show the lady to the bedroom.”

***

Fortunately, the count’s room was at least livable.

The bathroom was dim and smelled of mould, the maids had rough hands, and the wooden bathtub was cracked at the seams from poor maintenance, causing water to leak constantly – but Helena decided to settle for the simple fact that she could immerse herself in warm water.

“My goodness, her waist is tiny!”

“Her skin is so soft! Nothing like silk!”

The maids’ wide-eyed admiration, bordering on shock, was a bonus.

Soaking in the warm water, Helena could feel her strength slowly returning.

It was like a dried octopus, flattened by beatings and exposure to the sun, finally softening and plumping up in the water.

Stretching as far as she could in the cramped wooden tub, Helena declared proudly:

“You girls can consider it the greatest honour of your lives that you’ve helped Helena Winston bathe.”

The plump, round-nosed maid was so flustered by Helena’s words that she didn’t know how to react – and ended up dropping the basket she was holding into the tub.

Helena recoiled in horror as dried rose petals spilled into the water.

“What is this?”

The maid came to her senses and stammered.

“Dried roses, ma’am. When added to the bath, they leave a lovely scent on the skin…”

“I don’t need them!”

Helena hurriedly scooped the floating petals out of the water and tossed them back into the basket.

She had no desire to smell nice in front of that bastard Count Ishpern.

While the maids washed her hair, Helena – having regained some strength – floated in the water with only her face above the surface, listing her various requests.

“If there’s nothing urgent planned for the next few days, there’s no need to bother with my hair or make-up. Instead, I’d like you to start unpacking my things as soon as possible. I’ve packed a few essentials separately – get those out first.”

At first, the maids seemed to be doing their best to listen attentively to Helena’s instructions.

“I know things are a bit rushed at the moment, but in future please use the special soap for my hair. And this bathtub – it needs to be replaced with a new one.”

But as Helena’s list of demands grew, the maids’ expressions began to flicker with unease, then gradually faded into blank stares, like the dull eyes of dead fish.

Even after the bath, when she returned to the bedroom to dry her hair, Helena’s instructions continued.

“I don’t want to be difficult. As for the meals, there are just a few things to remember. Only white meat, once it’s cooked, and no fried fish. I want fresh vegetables and good quality butter made daily. Oh, and I don’t eat root vegetables. There are also some herbs I can’t stand. I don’t even want to smell them, so it’s best if they don’t come into the property at all. And the most important thing is…”

That’s when Benjamin, who had been watching silently from an armchair, finally spoke.

“That’s enough.”

Turning his gaze to the maids, who now looked utterly exhausted, he added:

“You have plenty to do – go on then. And from now on, you won’t have to indulge the lady’s whims.”

At his words, the light returned to the maids’ eyes – while a vein in Helena’s forehead throbbed visibly.

She snapped sharply.

“Whims? I’m making reasonable demands. And I haven’t even got to the most important one yet!”

“Which is?”

Helena folded her arms and raised her chin proudly.

“Rosewater.”

“…?”

“I want a teacup of rosewater prepared every morning.”

Helena said, her tone composed.

“At the Winston estate we had a greenhouse so I could drink it even in winter. I don’t expect that here – but during the flowering season I hope you’ll make the effort.”

Benjamin, who had been listening quietly, finally replied.

“Are you a fairy or something?”

“What?”

“Humans are good with water.”

The next moment, one of the maids couldn’t contain her laughter and burst out laughing.

She quickly covered her mouth, but it was too late.

Helena shot her a sharp, angry look.

No matter how ignorant they might be, a mere maid laughing at Helena Winston was absolutely unthinkable.

Never, in any place, had she been treated with such disrespect.

As she considered how best to destroy this clueless, tactless maid, Count Ishpern made a dismissive gesture and signalled for the maids to leave.

Realising from Helena’s expression that something was very wrong, the maids dropped what they were holding and stormed out of the room.

With no other outlet for her rage, Helena’s anger naturally turned on none other than the bastard Count Ishpern.

She slowly rose from her seat and began to walk towards him, one deliberate step at a time.

There was so much dignity in her stride that even Benjamin was speechless as he watched her approach.

Standing in front of him, Helena crossed her arms and looked down at him with a face full of anger.

Her beautiful features were set like stone and her emerald eyes glittered with a cold, silent rage.

Dressed in a robe and sitting comfortably in an armchair, Benjamin looked up from the documents he’d been reviewing and asked with maddening nonchalance.

“Yes?”

“Apologise.”

Benjamin’s crimson eyes flickered at her request.

“For what exactly should I apologise?”

Helena let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

“What? Oh, there’s a lot to apologise for. But most of those things are way beyond the scope of a simple ‘sorry’, so we’ll leave them aside for now. For now, this is the priority – I didn’t ‘whinge’. I was clearly and politely explaining to your untrained staff exactly what their duties were.”

Benjamin crossed his big fingers and put his hands on his lap, then said.

“No, life before marriage and life after marriage are not the same. It’s you who must learn a new way of living.”

His voice was soft – gentle, even – like an adult patiently explaining the world to a child.

“There are no doting parents to hang on your every word, no foolish men to follow you around as self-proclaimed admirers, no sycophantic maids to cater to your every whim.”

He whispered cruelly in that honeyed tone – almost as if he were enjoying himself.

“It might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but you’ll grow used to mornings without rosewater. After all, people can survive just fine on water and bread.”

Helena’s arms were still crossed—but now her hands clenched tightly, trembling with fury.

‘Well, would you look at this bastard?’

Helena’s lips curved into a cold smile.

Then, matching his tone, she whispered sweetly – every bit as honeyed as his had been:

“You’re the one acting spoiled, Benjamin Ishpern.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“I don’t know what you think, but for someone with the title of Count to allow a family estate to fall into such disrepair is nothing short of an insult. An insult to the land of Burwood, to House Ishpern, to the people who depend on this area for their survival – and ultimately to the Empire that entrusted you with its care.”

She spoke with the calm, patient tone of an adult explaining to a child that the sky is blue.