Chapter 12
I let out a quiet sigh.
“I don’t think about revenge.”
“But it would be the perfect revenge, wouldn’t it?”
Revenge only matters when the other person is worth it.
To me, Edgar had no value—just as I had none to him.
“Why do you dislike him?”
Of course, Edgar had acted civil with Ricardo on the surface while ridiculing him behind his back for being a bastard.
But that wasn’t unique to Edgar. Nearly every noble I’d met so far seemed the same.
Just look at Countess Rosette. The moment she heard I’d been seen with Ricardo, she launched into a self-righteous lecture.
“What if it’s not that I hate the Earl, but rather that I like the Countess of Linton?”
That made even less sense.
Maybe my expression gave me away, because Ricardo scratched his chin, embarrassed.
“If you want to take it that way, I won’t stop you. But even if not, I really do want to be your friend.”
I was surprised. Ricardo and I barely knew each other.
We hadn’t shared enough history to justify friendship.
Our backgrounds made it even stranger.
He was the illegitimate son of a duke. I was the wife of a man who openly kept a mistress.
Logically, we should dislike each other.
I wasn’t the real Cecilia, so I had no personal reason to dislike him—but he? He had every reason to resent someone in my position, for the sake of his mother if nothing else.
“Well, if you won’t reject me right away, I’ll take that as a good sign.”
Ricardo straightened his posture and came to stand beside me.
Sir Juan had been standing quietly at a respectful distance ever since Ricardo appeared.
Would he report this to Edgar?
“You might find it hard to believe, but I’m extremely loyal when it comes to friends.”
Ricardo pulled a silver coin from his pocket and flipped it skillfully into the air.
“For example, if the Countess of Linton had a little problem, I might be able to help solve it.”
“Problem?”
“The banquet, of course.”
How had that even reached his ears?
“I don’t know everything,” he continued. “But you know… well.”
“Because you’re a bastard. Yes, I get it.”
I cut him off, but he didn’t seem offended. In fact, he looked quite pleased.
“I know someone skilled.”
“Skilled?”
“He calls himself a ‘party planner,’ or something like that. I don’t know the term—but anyway, he claims every successful event has had his touch behind the scenes.”
Banquets and tea parties were more than social events—they were stages where the lady of the house was judged.
A flawlessly hosted event would boost her reputation.
If someone else was helping in the background, most hostesses wouldn’t publicly acknowledge it.
“He worked himself half to death trying to make a name for himself, but in the end, got no credit. Now he’s bitter about it.”
Ricardo caught the silver coin in his palm without even looking. His gaze was fixed on me.
“If you want, I could silence him—put his talent to better use. What do you say? Do I seem loyal yet?”
I hesitated—but not for long. I needed help.
“I’ll thank him, not you. He’s the one doing the work.”
“So, I get nothing, huh?”
Ricardo delivered the line with a dramatic sigh, but he seemed thoroughly amused.
Most depression tests floating around the internet described my life almost perfectly.
But I never went to the hospital.
Someone worse off than me lived at home.
My mother needed to be the most miserable person in the world.
Even watching me take painkillers I bought at the pharmacy made her angry.
“You’re young and healthy. What could you possibly be in pain for?”
After she passed, I still couldn’t break free from that memory.
I avoided medicine whenever possible.
Maybe that’s why a dull, numbed state had become my norm.
Back in my original world, going outside had always been a challenge.
Now, in a completely unfamiliar place as Cecilia, going out exhausted me even more.
I had hoped the bard performance would help lift my mood.
Instead, I’d run into Ricardo again and ended up having another cryptic conversation.
I returned home more drained than before.
When I arrived, the head maid met me with a troubled expression and asked for a moment.
She had served in the Linton estate far longer than I had lived in it.
There wasn’t a corner of the household untouched by her hand.
Sarah respected her, but also feared her.
Her reputation was that of a stern and inflexible woman.
“My lady.”
We sat across from each other at a small tea table. The head maid turned slightly to avoid facing me directly.
Probably a matter of etiquette in this world.
“You said you had something to discuss?”
It still felt unnatural, addressing an older woman informally.
Even to my own ears, my tone sounded stiff.
She must have sensed I was uncomfortable, because she hesitated, pressing and releasing her lips a few times.
“Until now, I’ve handled most household matters, since your health was poor. But it seems your condition has improved greatly.”
I had no excuse.
Being responsible for both big and small matters must have been a burden for someone in her position.
“You’re right. Thank you. You’ve carried that weight alone for a long time.”
“Not at all. As the head maid, it was my duty. I’ve just been trying to find the right time to bring this up, since there’s so much to report.”
There was finally a hint of a smile on her usually stern, unreadable face.
“Forgive me for saying so, but it’s a relief to all of us that things seem to be improving between you and the master.”
Edgar hadn’t changed. What had changed… was Cecilia. Or rather, her soul.
“I know you’re busy preparing for the banquet, but that’s exactly why now is the right time to hire more staff.”
I nodded. The number of workers in the Linton estate was far too small for its size.
“Ideally, this should’ve been done soon after your arrival…”
The head maid trailed off, seemingly unwilling to repeat the lie about Cecilia’s poor health.
“Yes. I was lazy.”
“No, my lady. I shouldn’t even be saying this. But…”
At my candid admission, she shook her head, her expression tightening.
“The most urgent matter is that your personal maid—Sarah—is the only one assigned to you.”
“Is one not enough?”
“Certainly not. The Countess of a noble house should have at least three personal maids. For rest rotation, illnesses, or urgent duties—there must be replacements.”
Now that she mentioned it, I hadn’t seen Sarah take a break once since I’d arrived in Cecilia’s body.
Maybe she had snuck short rests while I wasn’t watching—but that wasn’t truly rest.
In a society based on class, I’d foolishly thought that was normal.
Now I could understand why Sarah might’ve resented me.
“We also need to hire outside workers to repair the exterior of the building. That includes preparing temporary housing for them. And as for the garden, we’ll need at least four more gardeners if we want it presentable before the banquet.”
She didn’t look down on my ignorance. Instead, she explained everything patiently and clearly.
“I’ve already asked Countess Rosette for a gardener recommendation. They should arrive tomorrow.”
“Really? I’m relieved to hear you’ve taken care of it, my lady.”
At last, I had managed to save a little face. Though the gardeners were the least urgent issue, she looked genuinely relieved.
Maybe, for the first time, it seemed like I wasn’t going to just sit idly by and watch.
By the time we finished working through the backlog of issues, the sky outside had gone dark.
The head maid offered to prepare dinner, but I waved her off.
“My stomach’s unsettled. Just bring me something light.”
She didn’t scold me like the nanny would have. She simply obeyed.
For the first time in a while, I felt like I had worked.
Since entering Cecilia’s body, I had lived in luxury.
My mind was full of noise, but my body enjoyed rest.
I slept in, ate food I didn’t cook, and rode in a carriage whenever I needed to go anywhere.
Back in my own world, this would have been unimaginable.
“I’ll eat in my room.”
We’d been talking in what seemed to be a small study.
It was too modest to be Edgar’s, so I assumed it must belong to the lady of the house.
Managing a household—hiring people, calculating wages, managing budgets—needed a proper, organized space.
Still, eating where I worked felt a little wrong, so I moved to the bedroom.
“Sarah, go wait in the kitchen. Once the food’s ready, bring it up to my room.”
Sarah had been waiting outside the study. When I mentioned where I was going, her face turned slightly sour.
Probably because the head maid had forbidden her from entering the study.
“But I’m your personal maid. Why can’t I go in with you?”
The head maid answered coldly.
“You’re not even from her birth household. What kind of maid goes in and out of her lady’s private study? Never heard of such a thing.”
Sarah bit her tongue and stepped back in silence.
She must have stood there brooding over the unfairness of it all from then until now, which explained her sulky expression.
I didn’t comfort her, but I didn’t scold her either. I pretended not to notice.
Sarah clearly had a lot she wanted to say when she brought the tray to my room, but I dismissed her.
I’m used to being resented—but that doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
The truth was, Sarah expected too much of me.
To me, she wasn’t that significant a figure. She was here for her own benefit, not mine.
I sighed at my own cynicism.
Cecilia probably never had thoughts like these.
Still, no matter how pointless it was to wonder what she would’ve done, my mind kept going there—what if the real Cecilia were still alive?
If her soul hadn’t been replaced with mine… would she be wandering nearby, watching?
At the very least, I had granted her one wish:
To no longer love Edgar.
Everything else had been to her detriment.
Trying to shake the thoughts, I turned to the plate of snacks.
They were all bite-sized—finger food, easy to eat.
I opened the large window by the bed and leaned out slightly.
Balancing the plate on the bed’s headboard, I savored the cool night air while slowly eating, one piece at a time.
Click.
The door opened.
I didn’t look back, assuming it was Sarah or the nanny.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Suddenly, a hand grabbed me roughly, pulling me down onto the bed.
