Chapter 5

“Miss Muhamot, you don’t look well. Did something happen?” 

Startled by Frederic’s words, Estelle awkwardly shook her head. Her mind was in turmoil. 

“Are you sure nothing happened?” 

“Yes, I’m fine.” 

When Estelle nodded, Frederic trusted her words and let it go. 

“It’s almost time for lunch, but Susan and I still have work to do, so you eat first, Miss Muhamot.” 

“…Yes, understood.” 

“By the way, your surname is a bit difficult to pronounce, so may I call you Miss Lumiere instead?” 

“Of course, you may call me that, Sir Butler.” 

“Miss Lumiere, you can call me Frederic as well. Everyone in this mansion does.” 

Frederic smiled gently, softening the atmosphere. He stretched out the leg he had bent, letting out a hearty laugh. 

“I was worried I might make you uncomfortable for no reason, but I’m glad to have your permission.” 

He was the very image of a sophisticated and kind elderly gentleman one might see in the capital; he was definitely not the cold and stern man from yesterday. 

Even his voice and intonation were different. 

Thinking back, that man’s speech had a rigid intonation she had never heard before. Just like a noble would use… 

‘…Goodness. That can’t be.’ 

Estelle, chasing the tail of her thoughts, covered her mouth in surprise. 

It couldn’t be. That was too much of a leap. But in a noble household, there was only one person who would speak like a noble. 

“Now, Lumiere. Lunch is soup, bread, and a few slices of ham. I even snuck in some potatoes, so eat as much as you like. You’re so skinny, it worries me.” 

Susan handed over the food, poking Estelle in the side. 

“After lunch, Lumiere, please change the bed linens in the west wing. Oh, Mr. Frederic! When should we change His Grace’s bedding?” 

“Yesterday, His Grace woke early and went to bed early, so it would be best to hurry today as well.” 

“His Grace? How unusual. He’s been sleeping late these days. Still, it’s lucky! None of us have run into His Grace.” 

Susan laughed, slapping Estelle’s thin back. 

“You cleaned the main building yesterday, didn’t you? You’re lucky! If His Grace runs into a servant, he explodes with anger. He’s especially sharp right before he sleeps!” 

Susan’s rough hand kept slapping her back, but Estelle didn’t feel any pain. Her mind was foggy. 

So the man she ran into that day was… 

‘…His Grace.’ 

The truth made her vision blur.

* * *

What should she do? 

Estelle let out a deep sigh and scrubbed the laundry vigorously. She didn’t even notice her fingers swelling in the water, nor did she stop scrubbing until her skin was raw. 

“He won’t forgive me. I was disrespectful to His Grace.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, recalling what happened that day. 

Her face burned, so she pressed her cold hand to her cheek and stood up. She had finished a mountain of laundry. 

Among them were clothes His Grace would wear. 

“I must have been a fool…” 

Katie had called her a fool, and it was true. 

How could she have done something so foolish? 

She had been nervous on her first day at the Duchy. If she had thought it through, she would have realized that man was His Grace. 

He could freely enter the Duke’s study, reprimand the servants, had a young voice, and spoke like a noble. 

And he could speak first. 

“Estelle, you’re crazy.” 

That was the problem. She had scolded the master of the house for making a sound. 

Estelle soothed her aching heart and got to work. There was meaning in the fact that His Grace hadn’t expelled her yet. 

With her arms full of clean laundry, she headed to the small garden to hang it up. 

The shirts and trousers were just like the ones she had seen yesterday. Though it was dark and she couldn’t see the details, they looked similar. 

“I could have guessed from the clothes, too. What a fool.” 

Estelle fanned her flushed face, questioning herself. 

‘Since he didn’t explode in anger, unlike what Aunt Susan said, maybe he’ll forgive me, thinking he’s showing mercy to a fool. If I’m really lucky.’ 

How much was two days’ wages? 

“Haa…” 

She had been rude to His Grace; if she could get even two days’ pay, that would be luck enough. 

It might be the greatest luck she could ever have. 

‘First, I need to apologize properly. That’s the right thing to do.’ 

Estelle thought as she hung up the shirts neatly. But servants weren’t allowed to speak out of turn. 

So the only way left was to write an apology. 

But Estelle didn’t have the ability to do that. She couldn’t read or write. 

It was partly thanks to that ignorance that a young, inexperienced common girl could become a caretaker in a noble house. 

If she ever peeked at an important noble document, it would be a disaster. 

‘What?! You want to go to school? Do you know how much money it takes just to send Lumiere?!” 

Estelle wanted to go to school, too, but her sister came first, so she couldn’t. Because her family had no money. 

Every penny Estelle earned went toward Lumiere’s education, Lumiere’s medical bills, and the household expenses. 

She couldn’t live like that anymore. 

‘Even if I have to kneel and beg, I have to keep working here. I can’t get kicked out of the Duchy.’ 

Just then, a breeze blew and some laundry fell to the ground. 

Estelle picked off the grass and leaves stuck to the white clothes and suddenly thought of a good idea. 

‘If my memory is correct…’

She could neither speak nor write, but apologizing was not limited to just those methods. 

In fact, there was one way that might be even more effective.

* * *

“So you’ve finally realized who I am.” 

As the study door opened and she entered, a low, subdued voice echoed. 

It was this voice. 

Estelle confirmed once again the dizzying truth that the man she met yesterday was the Duke of Giselleberg. 

Estelle quietly bowed her head. 

Her hair flowed down in waves, and the Duke lifted his head, staring toward the sound. He didn’t know what Estelle was doing. 

Then, there was the click of something like a small dish opening, followed by the scent of dried tea leaves. 

Before she knew it, Estelle had approached Theodore, pouring hot water into a teapot, adding tea leaves, brewing, and then filling the teacup. 

In the cold, dark, and chilly study, only the sound of Estelle moving could be heard. 

“Tea.” 

The Duke brushed his fingertips against the teacup beside him and spoke. Just as he said, it was nothing special, just a simple tea. 

“There’s supposed to be a maid who serves tea.” 

In other words, this was not a matter that a new maid should meddle in. 

Since losing his sight, Theodore had become sensitive to everything—hearing, smell, touch. Nothing ever quite suited his preferences. 

This tea was no exception. 

It was a scent he did not like at all. 

Drip, drip… 

“……” 

The tea Estelle brought was poured directly onto the study’s carpet. The Duke didn’t take a single sip; he emptied it all onto the floor. 

“Tell me.” 

Tilting the teacup, Theodore stared at Estelle and asked coldly. 

“What does this tea mean?” 

No shallow trick could restore his twisted body and mind. In fact, this flimsy apology only irritated him further. 

At that moment, Estelle began to speak. 

“When I met you, Your Grace, I remembered the scent of tea I noticed from you.” 

Estelle recalled the scent from when she had been close to the Duke. 

It was the same scent she recalled while picking grass off his shirt. It was a fragrance she rarely encountered, so she wondered if it might be a perfume from the capital. 

However, Estelle had smelled a similar scent somewhere before. It was not a perfume. 

“It was the scent of herbs. When I cared for Baroness Crawford, I used to dry each tea leaf myself and brew them.” 

Back then, Estelle was a novice caregiver. 

She had jumped into the job because it paid well, but she had failed several times by brewing the herbs too bitterly. 

These herbs were very expensive and difficult to handle. 

They couldn’t be exposed to the wind, and especially not to humidity; they had to be dried in the shade at a specific temperature. That was just the beginning. 

If dried incorrectly, they would give off a very sweet floral scent. 

That scent was so pleasant and rich that many wouldn’t even realize it was wrong. 

Baroness Crawford was kind and knowledgeable about herbs, and she taught everything to the inexperienced Estelle. 

The scent she noticed from the Duke last time was similar to that of poorly brewed herbal tea. 

“Baroness Crawford.” 

She was someone Theodore also knew very well. 

Even though Theodore had dumped the tea, Estelle didn’t give up; she brewed another cup and carefully placed it before him. 

The distinctly bitter scent stimulated Theodore’s sense of smell. 

“If you drink it, I’ll reconsider.” 

Theodore commanded sharply. 

How could he know if the tea given by a mere two-day maid was poisoned, or if that was why the scent was so unpleasant? 

Estelle drank the tea without resistance. 

The sound of warm tea sliding down her throat could be heard, and as she sipped the last drop— 

“However.” 

The Duke pulled Estelle closer, grasping her chin and whispered, 

“If you want me to believe you, you should give me what you were drinking.”