She held parties large and small almost every day.

People flocked to her like clouds.

People competed to present gifts to Cecilia and recited poems praising her.

Cecilia recalled the things she had done.

One day, she had scattered jewels across the ballroom floor.

People had frantically thrown themselves to the ground to pick them up, causing chaos.

She laughed loudly as she watched the scene.

It was a vulgar and extravagant party.

‘Ah…’

Cecilia felt a surge of shame, her face flushing with heat.

‘How much must people have mocked me behind my back?’

There is a certain level of dignity even in parties, but Cecilia hadn’t known that back then.

She had thought that as long as the decorations were lavish and the crowd large, the party was the best it could be.

No one had ever given her any helpful advice.

Benjamine was watching Cecilia closely, curious to the point of bursting about how the young miss had returned with the lord of the castle.

‘Before, she would have told me everything without me even asking.’

Cecilia would have eagerly shared every little detail before Benjamine could even ask.

“Miss,” Benjamine finally couldn’t hold back and spoke up. “Where did you go?”

“For a walk. The castle is so big that I lost my way. But Nanny, don’t do this again.”

“What? Do what…?”

“I mean, don’t make a big deal out of it like you did today just because I went missing.”

“Miss, I was worried about you… Saying that makes me really sad.”

Benjamine’s voice was full of dejection.

Cecilia used to be weak to this side of her nanny.

But now, all she could think of was the ferocious expression Benjamine had worn when she slapped the maids, and it made her seem repulsive.

“I am the lady of Lagos Castle. If word spreads that I got lost, what happens to my reputation?”

The word ‘reputation’ was so unfamiliar to Benjamine.

“I was sent here from the grand duchy overnight. My head is about to explode with everything on my mind. You’re twice my age, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be someone I can lean on, not someone who acts like a child, whining and making things harder for me?”

Benjamine was shocked.

She had always dealt with Cecilia’s tantrums, which were usually emotional outbursts.

A simple ‘Are you upset, Miss?’ had always been enough to resolve things.

She had never imagined being scolded like this.

“Whether I like it or not, I have to live here. Don’t cause trouble and ruin my position.”

“T-Then what should I do…?”

“Keep a low profile. Don’t draw attention. Make sure people barely notice you’re here. Always ask me for permission before doing anything. Do you understand?”

Benjamine nodded her head eagerly.

For the first time, Benjamine found Cecilia difficult.

Cecilia wasn’t even angry, yet Benjamine felt a sense of fear, similar to the pressure she felt when facing the grand duke.

Benjamine wasn’t the type to think deeply; she was more skilled at quick adaptations. The thought, ‘This isn’t the young miss I know,’ just briefly crossed her mind.

“Go to Administrator Taylor. You know who he is, right?”

“Yes, the young administrative officer, correct?”

“Yes. Tell him I’d like to see him.”

“Yes, Miss.”

If Benjamine had asked, ‘What for?’ it would have made Cecilia furious.

Thankfully, Benjamine had enough sense to leave the room quietly.

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

Helen knocked on the office door.

Hearing a response from inside, she opened it.

As soon as she stepped in, she saw Russell and Hoffman sitting across from each other at a small round table.

Helen bowed her head to Russell and said,

“Milord, the Madam is asking for Hoffman. What should I do?”

Russell thought for a moment and then spoke to Hoffman.

“Go.”

“Yes, Milord.”

“Hoffman.”

Hoffman turned back after taking a few steps.

“Yes, Milord?”

Hoffman looked curiously at Russell, who had called him but remained silent.

“Should I return and tell you why the Madam summoned me?”

Russell, contemplating whether to tell him about the incident at the ‘door,’ simply nodded his head.

After everyone left, Russell sat alone in deep thought.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

The chair tilted precariously, balanced on just two legs.

This position, where he felt like he might fall at any moment, usually helped him think faster when faced with unsolvable problems.

But this time, it didn’t seem to work.

The more he thought about it, the more puzzling it became.