Aside from the fact that I couldn’t leave the bedroom, my daily life was strangely quiet and peaceful.

Every meal was meticulously prepared by maids accompanied by knights, and a warm bath was ready at the same time each day without fail.

They even provided a few sensational novels during tea time, perhaps worried I might get bored. It was almost laughable how they thought this was considerate.

I wondered if the magic I had been so sure of had truly succeeded. I cheered when I finally saw a paper bird floating in the air after nearly exhausting my stack of paper, leaving only two sheets.

The deadline the Marquis mentioned was now just three days away. However, there was no indication of any movement to surround or attack the mansion from any direction.

My anxiety grew. If no news reached the royal palace, the principality would quickly descend into chaos.

I found myself pacing by the window in frustration.

“Healer, it’s time for dinner.”

The maid’s knock, announcing meal time, was heard as usual. Whether it was to monitor me or not, the door opened after a brief pause, even without my permission.

The only opportunity to leave this place was when that door opened. As I pondered my options, I sat at the table and carefully observed the person entering.

Soon, a maid accompanied by a knight appeared, carrying a basket of food. She had dark brown hair tied up, was about my height, and had a moderately slender build.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind. It was a bit risky, but maybe…

As the maid approached me, I glanced back to see the knight standing by the door, waiting for the task to be completed, as usual.

I cleared my throat and greeted her warmly.

“It must be troublesome, but thank you every time.”

She paused, seemingly surprised, as she took the food out of the basket hanging on her arm.

It was a reaction to be expected since I hadn’t spoken much beyond exchanging glances before.

“Oh, no. I’m just doing my job.”

She didn’t seem to mind the compliment, and she smiled shyly as she finished her task.

“Then I’ll be back in an hour. Enjoy your meal.”

Just as the maid was about to turn and leave, I seized the moment and called out to her.

“Wait a moment. Could you help me before you go?”

A curious look was directed at me.

“I want to change clothes, but I can’t quite reach.”

I smiled slightly and pointed to my back, and a bright smile appeared on her youthful face.

“Of course! It’s an honor!”

She went straight to the knight, whispered something, and confidently sent him out of the room. Then she approached me with an excited step.

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to try.”

Her voice was filled with excitement. Assisting with the attire of noblewomen wasn’t something just anyone could do, and it was likely a form of power among the staff.

“What would you like to wear? I think the light pink would suit you well, and the bright blue chiffon dress would look absolutely stunning on you!”

There was a hint of excitement in her hands as she opened the wardrobe and browsed through the dresses. Ignoring the slight guilt that began to rise, I pulled out a dress from where her eyes lingered.

“Wow, that yellow dress is really my style! Oh, I mean, the color is just so pretty.”

She added the last part awkwardly, with a bashful smile. Guilt crept over me.

“Then I guess I’ll go with this one.”

“Alright, I’ll help you take it off first.”

“Okay.”

As soon as I responded, her surprisingly skilled hands touched my body. My heart began to race. Time was running out.

“How’s the work at the Marquis’s place?”

“It’s not too hard. The pay is quite generous!”

“But what’s your name?”

“Karen.”

“Karen. How long have you been working here?”

Now wearing only my chemise, I glanced at myself in the mirror, stalling for time.

“Not long. About a month, maybe?”

“For such a short time, your clothes look quite worn.”

I deliberately looked over Karen’s attire, and she sighed deeply, glancing down at her clothes.

“Well, since these are work clothes, they wear out quickly.”

“I see. But if you wear the same clothes every day… you probably never get to wear dresses like these.”

“For someone in my situation, it’s a bit much. But trying one on is a dream of mine. They’re so beautiful.”

Perhaps accustomed to such comments, she didn’t seem offended by my bluntness. Instead, she gazed longingly at the dress, her fingers gently touching the fabric.

“Would you like to try it on?”

“…What?”

“If it fits, I’ll give it to you as a gift. I have plenty of dresses like this.”

Her expression shifted from surprise to disbelief, as if she had heard something she shouldn’t have. Only after I handed her the dress with a smile did she speak, hesitantly.

“Can I really try it on?”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

After a moment’s hesitation, her face, which had seemed almost grim, brightened instantly. Karen quickly changed into the dress. Even without my help, she was so swift and adept that her cuteness made me smile, despite the tense situation.

“Oh my, it suits you so well!”

“Really?”

Karen smiled shyly, reminiscent of spring flowers. She seemed quite pleased with her reflection, turning this way and that to admire herself in the mirror.

“Come sit here for a moment. I’ll also put on a necklace and bracelet for you.”

“Are you sure I can wear such precious things…?”

Despite her words, she sat down without a hint of doubt, following my lead.

I took out some accessories from the drawer and, as naturally as possible, held her hand. Then, turning her palm up, I spoke.

“I’m sorry for using you like this, Karen. It’s just a deep sleep, so there’s nothing to worry about. Sleep well.”

Karen, looking confused, widened her eyes, but soon they closed, and she slumped forward. I caught her gently, laying her head carefully on the dressing table, and then began to put on the clothes she had taken off.

With the apron on, I looked convincingly like a maid. The problem was my hair color. My silver hair was not just noticeable; it was another form of identification.

The only way to change this striking hair color was to stop the flow of magic at will. However, this method, known as the mage’s suicide technique, was as risky as a non-magic person holding their breath.

Of course, as long as I occasionally released the flow, it wouldn’t affect my life, but my hair color would quickly return at those moments.

The best plan was to head to the garden as quickly as possible with my magic stopped. The sun had already set, so outside, even wearing a robe, I wouldn’t be immediately recognized. I could cast a sleep spell then.

I tied my hair up like Karen’s and rolled my robe into the basket. Then, looking in the mirror, I began to halt the flow of magic. It wasn’t painful, but fear crept in. The terror and helplessness of approaching death…

Though the situation was entirely different from back then, the sensations resurrected memories I wished to forget. I took several deep breaths to avoid being overwhelmed. As the waves of power calmed with my breathing, my hair turned black from the roots. Once the flow had completely stopped, I resembled Karen well enough.

Hoping that I wouldn’t meet the eyes of the guards outside, I turned the doorknob. It opened easily, unlike when I was alone. Shadows fell on either side of my lowered gaze.

There were two guards, not just one.

The tension was suffocating. I briefly considered saying something but decided it was better to move quietly. However, after just a few steps, a rough voice called out from behind.

“Hey.”

Startled, I froze, and the guard grumbled.

“You’re late. It’s shift change time. When they come to collect later, someone else will be here, not me, just so you know.”

I nodded vigorously, half-turned, and quickly walked down the corridor. Fortunately, no one followed. My heart barely stayed intact.

Hiding behind a pillar in the central hall leading to the first floor, I pulled the robe over my head with trembling hands. The mansion, starting to be bathed in red twilight, was still quiet, but soon the staff would be moving around to light the lamps. I had to leave before then.

Stopping the magic made my head feel increasingly foggy. I was in a hurry. A quick glance showed no one in the first-floor lobby. The silence was oddly eerie, but I had no time to ponder why. Grasping the hood that had slipped down to my chin, I dashed to the front door.

But the door wouldn’t open easily. It seemed there was an internal lock, as pushing and pulling achieved nothing. Finding another door seemed quicker.

Was there another door on the first floor? The kitchen or pantry must have a back door, but those places would be crowded, too risky. Or perhaps the tearoom connected to the reception room? I remembered seeing the gardener use another entrance.

Ending my brief deliberation, I recalled the layout of the mansion and began to look around.

“…Hazel?”

At that moment, the voice I least wanted to hear called my name.