Chapter 4
Cassian’s eyes followed Yurisiel as she walked off into the distance.
Still in her maid uniform, she strolled along as if distracted by something, looking completely unaware of herself. It was almost amusing.
Her tied-up hair bobbed under the mesh, and from behind, she looked like a little puppy.
A puppy wagging its tail at its master.
Yet the same girl who had dared to meet his gaze and offer her opinion like an equal was more like a wild colt than a dog.
That contrast made her even more interesting.
Whether she looked like a puppy or a foal didn’t matter to him.
He was going to die soon anyway. Even if he weren’t, there would be no reason to get involved with someone like her.
He would never see someone so insignificant again in his life.
And yet…
“What was her name again?”
It was nothing serious—just a moment of passing curiosity. Knowing her name wouldn’t change anything.
“Yurisiel,” the butler replied.
Yurisiel. A name that sounded elegant and noble.
Almost too graceful for a sun-darkened commoner girl.
Wasn’t a name like Mary, Jeff, or Liddell more fitting for someone like her?
Yurisiel sounded like it belonged to a noblewoman from a powerful house—an idealized image.
In that way, it strangely suited her appearance.
Even with her hair hidden under a maid’s cap, the uneven strands that peeked out, the oversized uniform that didn’t quite fit, her ungraceful walk, and her tanned skin—
Despite it all, she was beautiful.
He had known that the moment he first saw her.
Just like how one can recognize a precious gem instantly, even without knowing its value.
Her emerald-green eyes weren’t like the color of grass or trees. They looked like they had been pulled from the depths of the sea and shaped from shimmering light. They sparkled like fragile jewels, as if they would vanish if you tried to hold them.
He found himself curious about her hair color, hidden under that cap. He had the strange urge to take it off and mess it up, just to see.
Her name and appearance matched perfectly.
It might seem silly to give so much meaning to a name, but anyone who saw her would understand.
Not that he cared about anyone else’s opinion.
She had said it herself—he was a Blanchet. If someone like him acknowledged her, then what did the rest of the world’s opinions matter?
In a world where Blanchet’s approval equaled everyone’s approval.
His gaze lingered on the girl who had caught his attention.
She knelt among the grass, gently leaning down to smell the violet flowers.
He couldn’t tell if the flowers resembled the girl or the girl resembled the flowers. They seemed the same.
Then suddenly, as if something came to mind, she got up and ran off.
She looked like she was rushing somewhere.
Such a noble face paired with such clumsy steps. If any of the noble ladies saw her, they’d say a face like that was wasted on someone like her.
The way she ran didn’t seem free—it seemed urgent.
Shouldn’t someone feel relieved after leaving this suffocating place?
That’s what most people felt.
They said just being near him made it hard to breathe. But Yurisiel had run off like she was heading into another hell, not away from one. There was weight in her steps.
He suddenly remembered how the too-long sleeves of her maid uniform had fluttered when she moved.
Her small face had trembled like a flower in his hand—delicate and beautiful.
And yet, he had cruelly made her stand there.
Usually, after being humiliated like that, most people would run away in tears. But she stayed until the very end, steady and silent.
As if it didn’t affect her at all.
She had stood tall, even while speaking of her struggles in front of someone whose life was already fading.
Just like that violet flower in the garden—standing firm, even in winter—she had looked strong and quietly desperate.
He found himself wondering where such determination came from.
Even though he had no reason to wonder. Even though they weren’t supposed to cross paths again.
“She looked like someone carrying a burden,” he muttered.
“Sir?” the butler asked, startled.
He had been waiting for the right moment to ask if he should bring Yurisiel back tomorrow, but Cassian’s sudden voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“That girl.”
The butler stayed silent.
“She’s from this village, isn’t she? You must know her circumstances.”
“W-what do you mean… from this village?”
Cassian’s red eyes slowly turned toward the butler.
They were cold—like frost in the dead of winter.
Eyes far too sharp and commanding for someone only eighteen. But they were unmistakably the eyes of a Blanchet.
The butler trembled.
He had introduced the girl as if she were from a noble family, someone suitable to serve as the young master’s personal attendant. He’d said she was clever, quick to learn, and wouldn’t bring shame to the Blanchet name.
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”
“…”
“That’s unfortunate. I know everything now.”
Was everyone from Blanchet this terrifying? This ruthless?
The butler had always found some comfort in not working directly for the Blanchets. And he had reassured himself that this young master wouldn’t stay here forever.
But ever since Cassian arrived, the butler had been living in constant tension.
Even so, Cassian had never once asked for his name. As if it didn’t matter.
And that was the kind of person the heir to Blanchet was—even if he was dying.
That was why the butler had made sure to train the girl properly, even if she was only staying for a day.
Had he made a mistake?
His mouth was dry, but he forced himself to speak calmly.
“I apologize, sir.”
Cassian didn’t even blink. His stillness was more chilling than any anger.
“I—I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
He couldn’t defend himself for placing a girl like that in front of someone from such a noble bloodline.
Even if it didn’t cause an immediate problem, the lord’s trust could be damaged.
The butler had worked so hard to manage the young master’s temper. He couldn’t afford to ruin it now.
His suspicion that the girl had done something wrong was slowly turning into certainty.
He had clearly explained her background. But now that the truth was out, excuses would only make things worse.
It was better to tell the truth and hope the young master might show some small mercy.
He remembered something the head maid, Mary, had mentioned about the girl.
“Her mother is very ill. The girl was desperate… that’s why I brought her in.”
Cassian’s expression shifted slightly for just a moment.
A sick mother. A daughter trying to find money for medicine.
He didn’t need more details. The image was clear enough.
The girl’s anxious movements. Her pitiful expression. The way she looked at him, as if begging for something.
Desperation and regret had been written all over her face.
It all made sense now.
But whatever flicker of emotion had touched Cassian’s face quickly disappeared.
“If she gets the money, will her mother survive?”
The butler, familiar with the village’s hardships, could only answer honestly.
“Most don’t even have access to a proper doctor. Illnesses drag on, and people usually just waste away.”
For a moment, Cassian’s lips curved into a strange smile.
He tapped the window frame with his fingers, as if hesitating. A soft crease formed between his brows.
The butler swallowed again.
Then Cassian spoke.
“Bring her back tomorrow.”
“…Sir?”
“That girl. Have her return tomorrow.”
His voice was rough and dry, like brittle paper. It filled the room with tension.
The butler stammered.
“Y-yes. Understood.”
As he turned to leave, Cassian made a small gesture with his hand.
Though the motion was condescending, the butler had no choice but to step closer.
“That maid uniform. It was so poorly fitted, I couldn’t stand to look at it.”
The butler glanced down at his own clothes, then remembered how the sleeves had hung off Yurisiel’s arms, clearly too long for her.
“I’ll have it corrected immediately.”
“And from now on, everyone in this household will speak to her with proper respect.”
“But, sir…”
Using formal speech toward a commoner? Even from a butler working in a noble household?
It was a humiliating order.
Could it be that the young master had grown that close to her already?
Why else would he care about her personal situation?
That could only mean one thing—and it left the butler feeling cold inside.
He was glad to be free from the stress of finding a new attendant for the temperamental young master, but this… this was dangerous.
If the lady of the house ever found out, she would be furious.
If even a rumor started that the heir to Blanchet was getting close to a commoner girl, everyone in the household would be held responsible.
Of course, Blanchet could do whatever they wanted with her. Once she had served her purpose, they could discard her without a second thought.
But the blame for it all would fall on the Alphonse estate.
Then Cassian smiled.
And the butler felt a chill for a different reason.
“From now on, she’s the daughter of House Villard. In Alphonse, does a butler speak informally to the heir of a noble family?”
“No, sir.”
“Then act accordingly.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“She’s a noble now.”
Cassian’s smile was calm, almost angelic—but it belonged on the face of a devil.
It was a warning.
This must never be spoken of. Anywhere.
And the devil’s servant, once collared, had no choice but to obey.
“Of course, sir.”
As the butler hurried out of the room, Cassian’s lips curled into a quiet, knowing smile.
