Chapter 1.17

“Mm….”  

Sunlight gently rested on Liz’s thin eyelids.  

It wasn’t the sharp, glaring sunlight that usually poured in the moment the curtains of the maids’ quarters were drawn.  

Instead, it was a soft light, filtered through translucent inner curtains, falling gently like a silver glow.  

The kind of pleasant platinum light she would see while cleaning Isabel’s room.  

…But was I really being woken by such light?  

“Ah…!”  

Liz sat up reflexively, letting out a faint groan.  

Her whole body ached as if she had been beaten.  

“No, not as if—I really was beaten… Ah!”  

It was only then that she remembered the events of the previous night, and she covered her mouth with her hands.  

Liz had narrowly escaped death from Count Myra’s scheme, thanks to Valentine Winchester’s help.  

Afterward, she returned with him to the Winchester Estate.  

“Good heavens….”  

The room was filled with nothing but beauty.  

The sunlight that woke Liz filtered through lace, casting delicate patterns on the blanket.  

The chandelier above her head seemed as though it would outshine the stars at night.  

Liz gazed around the room with a dazed expression.  

The crimson canopy curtains draped over the bed, the ruby ornaments adorning the table, and the paintings on the walls—all caught her attention.  

“Ah.”  

A vibrant red rose spread across the canvas as if mocking her.  

Coming to her senses, Liz realized that every item in the room matched Isabel’s taste for red hues.  

This was no mere guest room. It was a room prepared for Isabel, the Duchess of Winchester.  

Liz’s smile faded.  

Suddenly, the room’s scenery felt different.  

She could almost see Isabel, sitting at the beautiful marble table, sipping tea.  

And herself, standing by Isabel’s side, attending to her.  

Liz bit her lip lightly. She wanted to leave the room immediately.  

She climbed down from the bed, but the moment she stepped onto the floor, a sharp pain shot through her.  

“Ahhh…!”  

Liz cried out and sank back down, tears welling up from the pain.  

As if on cue, the sound of a door opening came from the room connected to the Duke’s bedroom.  

“…Duke Winchester.”  

Valentine appeared, his demeanor markedly different from yesterday.  

His hair was down, and he wore neat indoor attire instead of a tailored suit.  

Though this should have given him a softer impression, it did not.  

The redness around his eyes and his slightly parted lips gave him an oddly decadent aura, reminiscent of their first encounter on the third floor.  

“It’s about time you started addressing me differently.”  

Valentine strode toward Liz.  

“Didn’t I make myself clear yesterday? Isabel.”  

“That’s….”  

Liz bit her lip.  

He was right. Liz had chosen to become Isabel yesterday.  

That was why she had received Valentine’s help and ended up lying in this room.  

If that was the case, she had to meet his expectations.  

“Thank you for helping me… Dear.”  

Valentine smiled faintly.  

“Good.”  

He casually took a seat in the chair before her.  

“The physician said there were no major issues aside from your leg, but is there anything else bothering you?”  

Bothering her. Liz lifted her gaze and looked around the room.  

The entire room, resembling Isabel, was making her uncomfortable.  

But Liz silently shook her head.  

“Then let’s get to the main point.”  

Valentine spoke dryly.  

“As I proposed yesterday, I want you to fulfill the role of the Duchess of Winchester. The term will last until the real Isabel Myra returns.”  

Liz stared silently at her feet.  

Her sprained ankle was bound with a splint, and her other foot was covered in ointment and bandages.  

This was the price of daring to wear Isabel’s shoes.  

Isabel’s shoes, Isabel’s dress, Isabel’s room.  

If she were to take on Isabel’s name as well, what price would she have to pay?  

Liz hid her bitter thoughts and asked, 

“…What exactly do you mean by this role?”  

Valentine flicked the papers he was holding onto Liz’s lap.  

It was an action that would have been quite unpleasant in an equal relationship.  

But Liz, accustomed to such treatment, politely picked up the papers.  

Valentine, on the other hand, felt a strange discomfort watching her do so.  

To shake off the odd sensation, he lightly shook his head and continued.  

“The details are outlined in the contract. Can you read?”  

“Yes, as long as the words aren’t too difficult.”  

Valentine’s eyes widened slightly. Liz raised her guard and asked, 

“Is that surprising?”  

“No. I like it.”  

Was he mocking me? 

Liz narrowed her eyes and stared at him.  

But Valentine’s voice that followed was sincere.  

“The Duchess of Winchester isn’t a position for idleness. You’ll need to manage the head maid and oversee the estate, attend various gatherings, and build amicable relationships.”  

He was right.  

Isabel had often thrown tantrums, refusing to learn the duties of a Duchess of Winchester.  

And it had been Liz’s job to coax her into studying together.  

“So, not knowing how to read would be problematic. Ambition is also essential.”  

Ambition.  

Liz swallowed nervously without realizing it.  

Since becoming a maid, no one had spoken to her about ambition.  

On her days off, Liz would visit free museums or pick up discarded newspapers to read, but no one understood her.  

If they didn’t ridicule her as an oddball, she considered herself lucky.  

“…I wasn’t born a maid, after all.”  

Liz muttered softly.  

Valentine leaned forward slightly, as if to listen more intently.  

Encouraged, Liz added, 

“Things are bad now, but when I was younger, I used to attend weekend school with my friends.”  

Weekend school was one of the training centers open to commoners.  

Her free-spirited brother had quickly dropped out of weekend school, but Liz had been a rather good student there.  

Instead of paying tuition, Liz taught drawing to other children.  

It had been thanks to a weekend school teacher who had noticed Liz’s diligence.  

Recalling those times, Liz’s expression softened. They had been good days.  

“Oh. With friends?”  

A cold voice interrupted Liz’s happy memories, like the bankruptcy declaration her father had received.  

“Is there a problem with that?”  

Liz looked up at Valentine nervously.  

His blue eyes carried a subtle displeasure.  

‘I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.’  

In Holt, there were nobles who disapproved of commoners attending weekend school.  

“…No. Quite admirable, actually.”  

Valentine nodded and continued.  

“When Isabel returns, you seem to have enough decency to step aside willingly. Your appearance is passable, and you’re not unintelligent. I couldn’t ask for more.”  

It was a compliment, but it felt like an insult.  

“Thank you for the wonderful praise.”  

Liz replied briefly and began reading the contract.  

But the contents of the contract were beyond her imagination.  

“The Duchess of Winchester must attend all gatherings as directed by Valentine Winchester… must obtain permission at least three days in advance before meeting anyone….”  

Liz’s brows furrowed deeply as she read.  

“This is far too one-sided.”  

Liz asked him with a flustered expression.  

The contract was thoroughly restrictive toward Liz—or rather, the Duchess of Winchester.  

The Duchess of Winchester could not meet anyone without Valentine’s permission and had to go wherever Valentine desired.  

Even trivial outings required prior approval, making it a perfect form of control.  

But Valentine responded with a smirk.  

“Every contract has its timing.”  

Valentine crossed his long legs once and leaned back in his chair.  

It was the posture of a negotiator who knew he held absolute leverage.  

“If this contract had been made before Myra threatened you, its terms would have been quite different. But now, you have no choice but to accept it, don’t you?”  

He was right.  

If Valentine withdrew from this deal, Liz would suffer the most.  

Without Winchester’s protection, Liz might as well be dead.  

Still, the contract was excessive. Even maids weren’t treated this way.  

Valentine seemed to read Liz’s inner turmoil and pressed her further.  

“It would be wise not to miss this opportunity. I could make this contract even more unfair.”  

“How could it possibly be worse than this?”  

Liz asked in a voice full of disbelief.  

Valentine rose from his chair without a word. That simple action made Liz feel as though she were being crushed like an ant.  

He then swept his lofty gaze over Liz.  

Due to the thin nightgown she wore, it felt as though he could see through her entire body. Her cheeks burned involuntarily.  

Moments later, Valentine bent down and whispered softly.  

“For instance, I could add nighttime duties to the contract.”  

His low voice resonated right next to Liz’s ear.  

Liz’s eyes widened in shock.  

“What? Nighttime duties…?”  

Surely not.  

While Liz was busy denying reality, Valentine’s knee lightly tapped the bed beside hers.  

“I’m talking about what happens right here, on this bed.”  

Impossible.  

She was so stunned that she couldn’t even speak.  

“Judging by your reaction, I suppose I should clearly include this in the contract as well.”  

Valentine smiled, his eyes curling beautifully like those of an angel.  

It was the same look he had when he shielded her from Myra’s slap.  

“No… No, please.”  

Liz shook her head urgently. Valentine tilted his head in response.  

“And why not?”  

That question left her feeling hopeless.