Maybe this is the right decision.
Maybe tonight, I'll finally sleep without tossing in a sea of overthinking—without her face haunting the corners of my mind.Maybe I'll stop wondering how just one look from hercould unravel me completely.
I've given too much of myself to that gaze.To the silence.To the space she occupies without even trying.
I deserve peace.To be still.To think of myself first without guilt clinging to every breath.
I closed my eyes and inhaled—slow and full—drawing in air like it was something sacred.And as I exhaled,I let go of the weight I'd been carrying quietly.
A strange, subtle freedom followed.
It didn't scream.It whispered.You're going to be okay.
And maybe—just maybe—this time,I'll believe it.
And I closed my eyes.
Almost immediately, they appeared—a beautiful pair of brown eyes,familiar, expressive,the kind that could snowball into a storm of emotionswith just one look.
Eyes that once felt like home.
But this time, I didn't get lost in them.I stayed anchored.
I am in control.Of my breath.Of my thoughts.Of my heart.
So I gently redirected my mind—towards peace,towards gratitude,towards the parts of me that still wanted to healmore than they wanted to remember.
With every inhale,I chose clarity.With every exhale,I chose myself.
And just as I began to feel that rare, delicate sense of empowerment...
A knock on the door pulled me back to the present.
"Lady Rebecca."
"Yes," I answered softly.
"I am Irin, your new personal servant. May I come in?"
"Yes," I replied again, simply—quietly.
But something didn't sit right.A strange pang, like disappointment.
Why?
I should feel relief—validation, even—that someone agreed with my decision.That I wasn't foolish for walking away from whatever that was.
But instead, my chest ached with an emptiness I couldn't quite name.
Why does this feel like loss?Why do I suddenly wish someone would stop me—tell me I'm wrong,tell me to stay?
Why do I feel like I just said goodbye to a part of myself?
Am I expecting Freen to disagree and stay?
Is she really that excited to be with Kirk?
"Lady Rebecca."
"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I have already prepared your bath and the clothes you'll wear."
"Thank you, Irin. Please bring them in," I replied, grateful for her quiet efficiency.
As Irin entered and laid the neatly folded garments on the velvet seat by the window, I moved slowly towards the bath chamber. The air smelled faintly of lavender, calming, but not enough to soothe the storm in my chest.
I paused at the door.
Why am I feeling this way?
This shouldn't be painful. Freen was never mine to begin with.She was just… passing through. A fleeting chapter. Right?
And yet—why does it feel like an ending?
Maybe it's the realization that everything is changing.That whatever routine we had—the subtle glances, the quiet moments, the unspoken words—would be gone.Replaced. Rewritten.
Kirk.
Her future.
Not mine.
I stepped into the bath, letting the warmth surround me, hoping it would melt away the ache that kept pulsing in my chest.
But even under the water, all I could see were her eyes.
She came in, and I barely moved from my bed.I didn't feel like getting up. Not today.But I had to—today was the day I was supposed to move into the mansion.
"Lady Rebecca."Ugh. There it was again—that title. Why does it sound so hollow coming from Irin?Why do I wish it came from that soft, playful voice that used to call me this with a teasing grin?
"Yes," I answered anyway, hiding the weight in my voice.
"May I?"
Wait—did she just speak in English?
"You can speak English?" I asked, surprised, a little stunned even.
She nodded, calm and collected."Yes, I can speak English fluently. It's one of the many languages I've learned over the years."
"Wow… where did you learn that from? I mean, if you don't mind me asking," I asked, suddenly curious about this stranger with a familiar calmness.
"My aunt taught me," she replied with a soft smile.
"Wow."That was all I could say.Somehow, I was impressed—not just by the skill, but by the quiet grace with which she carried it. There was something admirable in her calm poise. Something that felt… comforting.
"So, shall we?" she asked suddenly, her voice warm but practical.
I looked at her, confused.
"I'll help you take off your clothes so I can give you a bath, Lady Rebecca," she said with a gentle smile.
My eyes widened just a little."Oh—uh, you don't need to do that. I can manage," I said quickly, trying to sound polite.
I appreciated her offer—but I needed to feel in control of at least this small part of my life.Still… there was something about her tone that felt safe.
But it still different when it is Freen
"Don't worry, Lady Rebecca. This has been my job for many years. I am trained to assist Elites with their daily tasks and ensure their comfort and well-being," she reassured me.
I couldn't help but feel grateful for her calm professionalism and kindness. Still, I politely declined her offer again. I needed to prove to myself that I could handle the small things—even if the big ones were falling apart.
She really does know her job.
I admire that… but then, without warning, a smile crept onto my lips—uninvited but warm.
I remembered a pair of beautiful, clueless eyes.A girl who never really figured out how to serve me properly, who always fumbled through her tasks, who made a mess of everything… and somehow made me feel alive while doing it.
"You remembered something fun, Lady Rebecca?" Irin asked, noticing the shift in my expression.
"Hmm… no, just a stupid person," I replied with a quiet chuckle.
But it wasn't stupid.It was everything.And I wish I could go back.
"You must be really fond of him, Lady Rebecca; you can't even hide your smile."
Her comment made my brows crease.
"No. She's a woman. And it's none of your business," I said sharply, annoyance slipping through my tone.
"I'm sorry, Lady Rebecca. I didn't mean to offend you. I was just making an observation," Irin apologized softly.
I took a deep breath, trying to center myself.
"It's alright. Just… please refrain from making assumptions about my personal life," I replied, doing my best to keep my voice calm and neutral.
"And please help me pack clothes and things I'll bring to the mansion later. I can take a bath alone, don't worry about me. After I shower, we'll leave so we can get there earlier."
Irin nodded, sensing the shift and the boundaries I had drawn.
"Of course, Lady Rebecca. I'll assist you with packing and ensure everything is ready for our departure," she said respectfully.
As I made my way toward the bathroom, a sense of relief slowly settled in me. At least Irin knew when to step back. And for now, that was enough.
I am now in the bathtub, and I can't help but remember the way she looked at me that night after my bath. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness, as if she saw right through me. It was a moment that lingered in my mind, etching itself into my memory like a beautiful painting.
I am going to lose my mind… over a maid.
This all started when she saved me from my fiancé's hands. Her act of bravery and compassion ignited a spark within me—something raw, something real—making me question everything I thought I knew about love and loyalty.
As the days passed, our connection grew stronger. And I found myself yearning for her presence even in the simplest of moments—her voice, her glance, her quiet strength.
I only had her serve me for three days. But somehow, I already felt so connected to her—and that scares me.
At first, it was just curiosity. I was merely intrigued by the way she looked at me every time she served me and my family our food at dinner. That gaze—steady, soft, and unreadable—lingered in my thoughts longer than I'd like to admit.
I was actually about to use her… for my escape from this upcoming wedding.
But I'm guessing I won't be doing that to her anymore.
I can't.
There's still no update about what happened to the Maurer family. But my stay at the mansion is still happening, partly to escape the fallout, partly to breathe. I know my parents will find another way to save face and preserve their precious social status. They always do.
However, deep down, I can't help but feel a sting of guilt—for even thinking of using someone's genuine care and feelings for my own benefit.
It's clear now that I need to find another way. A cleaner way. One where I'm not dragging someone innocent into the mess I'm supposed to face myself.
I guess… this is the best decision I've made at the moment.
And her replacement can understand and speak English, too. At least now I won't need a translator to communicate with my new servant. That should make things easier.
Additionally, I hope that my parents will understand and respect my decision, even if it means disappointing them. It's important for me to prioritize my own values and principles, rather than conforming to shallow societal expectations.
She's better off with that guy too. I can see it—they get along with each other.
But that embrace… the one they shared on the grassfield... it hasn't left my mind until now.
I never felt so selfish before. But with her, something about that moment—about seeing her in someone else's arms—bothered me more than it should have.
It still does.
Her touch—the way her fingers grazed my skin every time she helped me change, especially that time in front of the mirror—was something that felt intensely intimate and personal. It was as if she saw beyond my physical appearance and truly understood me on a deeper level. Her presence ignited a sense of vulnerability and connection that I had never experienced before.
"Urgh, stop thinking about her," I groaned, pulling at my hair in frustration.
I decided to finish my bath and get her off my mind. As I dried myself off, I reminded myself that dwelling on her would only lead to more confusion and longing. It was time to focus on myself and move forward, leaving behind the lingering emotions she had stirred within me.
"Lady Rebecca, why didn't you tell me you were finished with your bath? I should have helped," Irin said, surprised to see me already in a robe. I noticed she was nearly done packing my things.
I chuckled, grateful for Irin's thoughtfulness."I wanted some time alone to clear my head," I replied, offering her a small, grateful smile."But thank you for being so attentive. I appreciate it."
With that, I joined Irin in packing my belongings into the suitcase.
"Lady Rebecca, please let me do my job. It is not right for you to help with my duties. You didn't let me assist with your bath, and now you're helping pack your things," Irin said, gently pushing my hand away from the suitcase.
"It's okay, Irin. I'm used to it," I replied with a soft smile."My previous governess and grandmother used to teach me how to do things in case I got married, so no worries."
I said this as I continued folding and organizing my belongings, unwilling to stand idly while someone else did all the work.
"No, Lady Rebecca. If you want, I can call for help to finish this and help you get a dress," Irin suggested.
I smiled and replied, "Thank you, Irin. But there are only a few left to pack. Let's just finish this, and I'll let you help me dress."
She had no choice but to agree with me.
But the truth is, I was taking my time.
I didn't know how many times I had looked at the door.
Was she really not coming to at least say goodbye?
Or confront me for kicking her out?
She's not going to react?
"Are you expecting someone, Lady Rebecca?" Irin asked.
"I'm not. Why?" I replied. Irin looked at me, puzzled, but didn't say anything.
Her expression made me realize I had been staring at the door for far too long. I quickly shook my head and added, "No, I'm not expecting anyone. I'm just lost in my thoughts."
"Okay," she said simply. "All done." She straightened herself up.
I hadn't even noticed we were finished packing until she mentioned it.
"Thank you for helping me," I said, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and guilt settling in my chest.
"It's my job, Lady Rebecca. I should be ashamed of letting you help me do my tasks," Irin said, her voice shy and soft.
I smiled at her modesty. "It's okay, really. Not a big deal. Now, help me get dressed. I just need your assistance to put on my clothes."
She nodded, obedient as ever.
We moved through the rest of the preparations in a kind of quiet rhythm. The dress fit me well, and Irin's hands were gentle but sure as she styled my hair. I didn't like wearing heavy makeup, so that part was easy—just a light touch, enough to look presentable.
By the time we were finished, I glanced at the door one last time.
No shadow.No Freen.She never came.
Then I guessed that's it.
The servants were now carrying my baggage to the wagon. I was grateful for their help—it saved me from having to carry everything myself. With my belongings safely packed, I felt relieved and ready to embark on our journey.
But then I noticed I had forgotten something really important. I had to go back to my room.
"Lady Rebecca, where are you going?" Irin attempted to stop me.
I waved her off without looking back and hurried to my room. I couldn't believe I had forgotten my necklace—a family heirloom that held immense sentimental value.
"I just have to get something important in my room. Just wait on the wagon. I'll be back in a moment," I assured Irin, my heart pounding with anxiety. As I rushed back to my room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency to retrieve the cherished necklace before our journey began.
It wasn't just the necklace; the box contained an important memory too—one I had been carrying ever since I could remember.
I didn't know if she was a dream or just my imaginary friend, but I had carried her presence with me until now.
This was the main reason I wanted to go back to that mansion again. I wanted to relive the memory with the crown flower girl.
As I entered my room again, my eyes immediately locked onto the box that held the most precious memories of my existence in this world.
But I couldn't reach it.
It sat just out of reach—perched on top of the closet.
I tried to jump to grab the box.
Poink.Poink.Poink.
Then it hit me—a ladder was needed to reach it properly. But looking for one now would be such a hassle, and I didn't want to bother anyone for no reason.
I put my hands on my hips, blew my hair out of my face, and narrowed my focus on the box above me. My dress was tight and heavy, and I was already perspiring from all the jumping.
Then I spotted a chair at my desk. I smacked my forehead at my own stupidity, dragged the chair near the closet, and positioned it just below the box.
Finally, with sparkling eyes, I climbed up and opened the box. Everything was still there—especially the withered crown flower hidden at the bottom beneath an old piece of paper where I had secretly tucked it away from my parents.
I jumped off the chair, overwhelmed with happiness, then climbed back up and playfully stood on my toes, twirling like in the ballet scenes I used to watch—holding the box tightly in my hands.
"Lady Rebecca?"
"Oh my God!"
Blogz.
"Ouch!"
And that was it. I fell to the ground.
Of all the times, why did she have to appear now—in such a ridiculous situation?