I stepped out of the carriage and found myself standing before the towering iron gates of Count Ashford's manor. Two guards stood at attention, their watchful eyes scanning me as I adjusted my grip on the small bag I carried.
"Ivy, you know where to go if anything happens or if you need anything, don't you?"
I nodded silently.
"Good. Good luck." Ben's voice was calm, but his exhaustion showed.
I turned to look at him—black hair, black eyes, and those dark circles under his eyes. They reminded me of that night—the night the North fell. A nightmare that still clung to my mind like a shadow that refused to fade.
"You too." My words were simple, but I meant them.
Ben gave me a brief nod before climbing back into the carriage. I watched as the horses stirred, their hooves clicking against the stone path as the carriage rolled away, leaving me alone before the grand estate.
I took a deep breath and walked toward the guards.
"Hello."
One of them, a tall man with a stern expression, didn't waste a second. "State your name and business."
I straightened my posture. "Hello, I am Ivy. I have come as a temporary replacement for Sophie—"
"Ah, you must be Ivy. The head maid mentioned you. Follow me; I'll take you to her."
I blinked. What? You didn't even let me finish my line? How rude! The sudden interruption irritated me more than it should have. For a moment, I imagined tearing his mouth apart, but I forced a smile instead.
"Yes," I replied sweetly, hiding the dark thoughts that flickered through my mind.
The gates creaked open, and I stepped inside.
The grand entrance courtyard spread before me—a breathtaking display of wealth and refinement. A large fountain stood at its center, its elegant marble structure carved with intricate patterns. Water flowed smoothly from the mouths of sculpted stone cherubs, cascading into the crystal-clear basin below. The soft sound of trickling water mixed with the distant calls of birds, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted starkly with the weight in my chest.
Beyond the fountain, the manor loomed—a majestic structure of pale stone and towering windows, its ornate balconies and carved pillars exuding an air of old nobility. Ivy crept along the outer walls, carefully trimmed to maintain a balance between nature and human craftsmanship. The heavy oak doors stood closed, guarded by yet another pair of servants in uniform.
As I walked forward.
I exhaled slowly.
This place is beautiful…
So I want to destroy it with my own hands.
The thought came unbidden, curling in my chest like a whisper of smoke. The pristine marble, the carved pillars, the glittering fountain—none of it deserved to stand. It was too perfect, too untouched by suffering.
My fingers twitched against the fabric of my dress.
Wouldn't it be lovely? To watch the water in the fountain turn murky, the carefully trimmed ivy overgrow and strangle the walls, the windows crack under the weight of time and neglect? To turn this polished dream into something real—something that knew ruin.
But I smiled instead. Smiled like I belonged.
And I kept walking.
---
The head maid stood before me, a woman in her 40s with sharp, defined features. Her auburn hair was pulled back tightly, not a single strand out of place. Her piercing green eyes seemed to assess me with precision, as if measuring my every move.
The lines on her face told stories of years spent in service, and the authority she carried was impossible to ignore. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, every fold and seam in place, giving off an air of quiet discipline. She exuded control, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she would accept nothing less than perfection.
"So, you're the one replacing Sophie for three weeks. Let's see if you can keep up."
"I'll manage," I replied.
"You'll be taking over her duties—cleaning the west wing, assisting in the kitchen when needed, and helping Lord Elias dress."
"I understand. I'll take care of it."
She eyed me for a moment, almost as if trying to gauge my sincerity.
"Sophie's told me about you. I hope you work as hard as she says."
"I'll work hard, don't worry."
"You mess up, and you're out. Understood?"
I met her gaze firmly, no hesitation in my voice. "Understood."
"You'll be sleeping in the servant quarters. Get changed and report back immediately."
"Of course."
With that, I gave a brief nod and turned to head to the servant quarters. As I walked away, the weight of the task ahead didn't feel as heavy. I knew what I had to do.
I didn't know where Sophie's room was, so I stopped a maid passing by and asked,
"Do you know where Sophie's room is?"
The maid gave me a strange look before quickly walking away without saying a word.
'What is going on?'
I asked a few more maids, but each one either ignored me or gave me a cold, puzzled look, as if I didn't exist. The strange reactions only added to the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine.
I had sent Sophie here three months ago, before the fall of the Viscount family. I had planned on coming soon after, but seeing how I was being treated now—like an outsider—felt wrong. Was she being treated like this?
Still not knowing where Sophie's room was, I made the decision to enter a random room and sit on the bed.
"What? What are you doing here?"
A maid's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see her glaring at me.
"No one would tell me where Sophie's room is, so I thought I'd just enter any room," I said, trying to stay calm despite my growing frustration.
The maid hesitated before answering, her tone a little softer. "It's the last room at the end of the servant quarters."
"Thank you," I muttered, and then walked quickly toward the end of the hall.
When I opened the last door, I stepped inside and immediately felt the weight of the room. It was small—far smaller than I'd expected—and cramped. The walls were bare, cracked in places where the paint had chipped away over time. The space was barely big enough for the narrow cot shoved against the wall, the mattress sagging in the middle. The sheets were thin and worn, barely covering the bed.
The room smelled musty, like old wood and stale air. The smell hit me as soon as I walked in, a mixture of dampness and neglect. It was the kind of smell that lingered in places abandoned for too long, a stale scent that made the air feel heavier, harder to breathe. The small window in the corner was dirty, blocking out much of the light, and the air felt stagnant, like it hadn't been aired out in days, maybe weeks.
In the corner, there was a small dresser, the wood chipped and worn with age. It was crooked, as if it had been moved and shoved into place hastily. The floor was bare, the wooden boards creaking underfoot, and the faint smell of dust mixed with the stagnant air.
I stood there, staring around the room, the bitter taste of anger rising in my throat.
"This is where Sophie had been? So different from the other rooms."
The thought of her living in a place like this, isolated and forgotten, made my blood boil. It wasn't just a small room—it was a forgotten, neglected corner of the manor, as if she was meant to be invisible, as if she didn't matter at all.
"Ha"
A harsh laugh escaped me, though it was bitter and full of disbelief.
"No. I can't stay here even for a second. Let's change the room right now."
I quickly made my way to the head maid's office.
She sat at her desk, looking up at me with a curious expression. "What is it that you want?" she asked, her tone professional.
"Please change my room," I said firmly.
The head maid didn't hesitate. "There are no empty rooms. Every room is full," she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly.
I raised an eyebrow. "When I was walking through the maid quarters, every room had three beds. I also saw a few beds that were empty. Why are you lying, head maid?" I asked, a hint of irritation in my voice.
She didn't respond immediately, instead gazing at me with a piercing look. "Do you know why Sophie was treated badly and ignored by the others?"
"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because she was too smart," she said with a resigned sigh. "She excelled at everything, and the other servants became jealous. That's when they started to bully her, to make her feel invisible."
I couldn't help it—I let out a dark laugh. "Hahaha."
The head maid flinched at the sound of my laughter, her eyes widening just slightly at my reaction.
I walked towards her desk, casually picking up a pen that had fallen on the floor and placing it neatly back in its holder.
"Head maid," I began, my voice smooth, "you're someone who values perfection, and you've made it clear that if I mess up, I'm out. So, are you telling me to mess up perfectly while playing the fool?" I said, my smile sweet and almost too innocent.
The head maid's lips twitched into a grin, though it was thin and tight. "You're just as Sophie described," she said, her voice laced with both amusement and caution. "Don't disappoint me."