Chapter 3: What She Could Do

The clear chirping of birds outside woke her. Though several days had passed since she’d arrived here, the plush embrace of the bedding and the subtle scent of cotton still felt foreign.

Lyra traced the dancing motes of light filtering through the transparent windows with her eyes before covering her blushing face with her hands.

“I can’t believe it.”

‘To think I’m now Duke Lianton’s lover.’

She could never have imagined that her first real decision would lead to such an extraordinary position. There was a world of difference between knowing about House Lianton’s influence and actually experiencing it firsthand.

Her heart still raced whenever she thought about that day.

“All you need to do is give me everything you have.”

His voice as he’d looked directly at her. Though it had clearly meant something different then, her mind had already begun to color that memory with her current feelings.

Lyra frantically fanned her increasingly warm face.

‘That’s not it. You know that’s not what it was.’

No matter how many times she tried to tell herself this, it was useless. An unfamiliar flutter kept beating in her chest.

“I think I understand now.”

She recalled how Lindia used to make a fuss while looking at magazines featuring portraits of social celebrities. Even though they were just pictures, not the real thing, she would go on about how one had shoulders as broad as an ocean, or how another was tall with a handsome beard.

Back then, Lyra would listen without much interest. It wasn’t her place to join in, and her role was simply to bring the magazines and help with scrapbooking.

But now she could understand at least some of Lindia’s excitement. In a life of abundance and leisure, rather than one spent anxiously wondering when she might be cast aside, such novel emotions could flourish.

“I wonder when he’ll summon me?”

Since arriving at the Lianton mansion, she hadn’t seen Kaylon at all. He usually left early in the morning, and even when he was at the mansion, he didn’t seek her out.

He seemed so disinterested in her that she wondered if he’d forgotten she was even here. He hadn’t given her any work to do, nor had he told her what to study to become a villainess.

As a result, she’d been spending her days doing nothing.

“You stupid parasite!”

Lindia’s voice suddenly echoed in her ears. Lyra bolted upright.

“Ah…”

Had she become too complacent? Though it was in name only, perhaps she’d lost herself in the luxuries that came with the position of “lover.”

Lyra only now realized this. Even though their relationship was bound by contract, the duke’s heart could change at any time…

She clutched the soft, crisp blanket tightly. Somehow, she felt ashamed, imagining the duke laughing at her foolish giddiness.

“What should I do?”

She had to admit that the strange sense of security from her changed circumstances had made her forget reality. Her anxiety and tension had disappeared, replaced by an unbidden excitement.

“He’s too good for someone like me.”

Lyra admonished herself. The memory of how recently she’d been thrilling at the mere name of hope quickly sobered her mood.

She knew well the consequences of giving in to greed. To avoid making the same mistake, she strictly disciplined her heart.

But how long would things continue like this? Though the servants’ attitudes were polite, they somehow felt like they were treating her as a temporary guest. Even though their behavior wasn’t wrong, it made her oddly uncomfortable.

Shaking her head vigorously, Lyra quickly got out of bed.

“There’s no time limit.”

Their contract would end the moment she completed her mission. That could be this year, or it might take several years. So regardless of how the servants treated her, it would be best to first find something useful to do.

While learning to be ladylike was important, she needed to show that wasn’t her only value.

‘That’s how I’ll avoid being abandoned here too.’

Her softening heart instantly sharpened its edges. Lyra repeated the words like a mantra.

“I mustn’t forget.”

‘Where my place is, what kind of person I am.’

Suddenly, the room she’d grown accustomed to felt unbearably uncomfortable. Suppressing her growing anxiety, she quickly changed into casual attire.

Just as she turned the doorknob to head down to the servants’ hall, Hannah, who was entering to give her morning greeting, saw Lyra standing awkwardly and asked casually:

“Where are you going?”

Her lady’s maid gave her a puzzled look as Lyra fumbled like someone caught in the act.

“Oh, um… just…”

Though it was a simple question, her response was far from smooth. Her heart pounded despite having done nothing wrong.

Was it because she compared herself to the maid standing with perfect posture? Lyra slightly averted her gaze and turned back into the room.

She kept stealing glances at Hannah, who was selecting her dress and finding matching shoes and accessories, before moving to the vanity. Though this had become a normal morning routine, it wasn’t entirely pleasant due to her earlier thoughts.

She looked at the woman with slumped shoulders in the mirror, then quietly lowered her head.

* * *

“Pathetic.”

Even after resolving to do something, her habit of giving up quickly remained unchanged. Curled up on the bed, Lyra turned her head toward the window stained with sunset light.

Another day had slipped away just like this. Doing nothing, merely eating what was given to her and breathing.

“Really… is this really okay?”

She felt as if Sabrina and Lindia would appear at any moment to scold her.

After hesitantly reading the atmosphere, Lyra had finally worked up the courage to ask Hannah earlier that day. If there was anything she could do, anywhere she could help.

But Hannah had smiled and discouraged her.

“Don’t worry yourself. Just living like this is enough.”

“Oh, right…”

“Is there something making you uncomfortable?”

“Huh? No, nothing like that.”

Hannah was one of the few servants who knew about her situation. There was no denying that she took very good care of her. Even so, the anxiety in her heart wouldn’t fade.

Today again, there had been no word from Duke Lianton, and she lacked the courage to seek him out herself. More accurately, he was among those she found extremely difficult to face.

“Sigh… as I thought…”

This wasn’t right. She’d been so consumed by these thoughts all day that she almost preferred her previous life of walking on eggshells while helping with housework.

Lyra let out another long sigh and dropped her face onto her knees. She remained so still that one might think she had fallen asleep.

A good while passed before her face slowly lifted, revealing eyes that held a faint gleam of determination.

“If there’s another way…”

Something she could do while maintaining the dignity of a noble. Though it might be a bit presumptuous, wouldn’t this approach allow her to find her place and live with pride?

‘At least I won’t be doing the work directly.’

From the next day on, Lyra began poking around various places. Dressed as Hannah had arranged, she walked the marble floors in clicking heels.

She moved among the morning maids, hoping to quickly adjust to the shoes that still left small wounds from unfamiliarity.

She resembled nothing so much as a hunter infiltrating hunting grounds. Contrary to her hopes of offering even small assistance, the watching maids’ faces were growing pale.

It was natural for them to worry that this woman, whom they’d thought was just the duke’s guest, might be looking for things to criticize.

However, when no such signs appeared even as time passed, looks of relief gradually crossed the maids’ faces. They whispered among themselves while quietly observing Lyra.

Among those watching were high-ranking staff members. For instance, Mrs. Beightle, who managed the mansion, and Isaac Fade, the assistant who helped with Duke Lianton’s work.

Unlike the other servants, their gazes were sharp, making no attempt to hide their displeasure as they watched Lyra’s activities from a distance.

Lyra felt intimidated whenever she encountered them. Their obvious dislike was impossible to ignore.

Was it a matter of status? Because she came from an insignificant family from the outskirts? Or did they know she had lived with treatment worse than a maid’s?

Whatever the reason, it was strange since they must know about her contract with the duke.

Lyra forced her increasingly heavy feet to move forward. But even after several days, she couldn’t find anything to do.

Unlike those in the baron’s mansion, the duke’s servants were mostly highly skilled professionals. They seemed determined not to leave even the smallest opening for her to squeeze into.

Then one day, as she was habitually scanning the stairs while descending, she suddenly heard an elderly woman’s voice by the window next to the entrance.

Lyra quickly hid behind the wall. Though she didn’t want to witness someone being scolded, she couldn’t help but feel concerned for the young maid who was shrinking under the harsh voice. Perhaps because it reminded her of being scolded by Madam Sabrina.

‘I hope she’s not… crying?’

Suppressing the urge to peek and check, Lyra leaned against the wall. Only after the elderly woman’s angry voice had faded did she slowly move forward.

Contrary to her expectations, the young maid wasn’t crying. Though she did look on the verge of tears.

Lyra quietly held out a handkerchief while standing in front of the downcast maid.

The young maid looked up.

“My lady?”