Episode 22
The girl who introduced herself as Helia tilted her chin proudly.
In the West, there were many noble families, and among them, the Torhisa family had long served the House of Veiharz—a deeply rooted and respected lineage.
Now Yuriel understood where that pride came from.
Yuriel looked at her with a cold expression and asked:
“Alright, Lady Helia. Introducing yourself is fine. But how do you plan to apologize for rudely barging into someone else’s bedroom?”
Helia had not only spoken the Duke’s name disrespectfully but had also stormed into the private bedchamber—something that couldn’t be excused with a simple explanation.
“This is a marital bedroom. It’s my space—and his as well.”
A married couple’s bedroom was the most private of all rooms. Even personal maids weren’t allowed to enter freely.
“…Tch.”
Helia clamped her lips shut. She had no excuse.
Still, her glare remained fierce. She even raised her voice, now sounding more furious than before.
“If only my body had grown… someone like you—!”
My body? Yuriel tilted her head.
Was she upset that she wasn’t born sooner? Or that she hadn’t grown physically?
While Yuriel tried to make sense of it—
“Just wait. You’ll regret ever coming to the West.”
With that bold declaration, Helia spun around.
SLAM!
She stormed out and slammed the door behind her.
Yuriel sighed.
“What a handful.”
“I apologize, my lady,” Asha said hurriedly.
“Lady Helia has always moved freely around the castle… but we truly didn’t expect her to come here.”
Yuriel shook her head.
“Is she always like that?”
The maids exchanged uncertain glances.
Finally, Asha looked hesitant but spoke carefully:
“Lady Helia is… twenty-five years old this year.”
“What?”
Yuriel was truly shocked.
Was this a joke?
Helia didn’t look a day over twelve, maybe fifteen at best. But the maids were all serious.
“Some people born in the Black Lands suffer from… a special condition. We call it the Black Dragon’s Curse.”
Asha lowered her gaze as she spoke.
This was a secret known only to the people of the North. It hadn’t reached the central regions.
“The curse affects nobles most often. Lady Helia is one of them. In her case… her body stopped growing when she was twelve.”
Yuriel was speechless.
Now she understood the resentment in Helia’s eyes—the hurt, the pride, the fury.
“The curse even affects people…”
The Black Lands. A poisoned land.
The shattered pieces of the Black Dragon’s power had sunk deep into both the land and its people.
Just then, the maids resumed their tasks.
Breakfast was brought in.
“Our castle’s chef is known for his skills, even here in the West!”
Ren tried to lighten the mood as she cheerfully set the dishes.
Yuriel picked up her spoon and nodded, but her thoughts remained on the curse.
The West was vast—large enough to rival a small kingdom.
If not for the curse, it would have been the most valuable land.
It was cut off from the rest of the continent. For central nobles, the West was practically an unknown world.
Which meant Yuriel had much to learn.
“Has Akron been cursed too?”
The thought of the curse led to thoughts of Akron.
His family had ruled the West for generations.
If nobles like Helia were affected, then surely he had not been spared.
Yuriel realized she didn’t know much about him.
Their passionate encounters, even in dreams, hadn’t gone deep enough to reveal who he truly was.
But instead of overthinking, she made a decision:
“No more spiraling thoughts. I’ll focus on what I can do.”
She felt lighter after making that choice.
Setting down her spoon, she called Asha.
“Asha, who manages the estate here?”
“That would be Butler Sheldon.”
A quick answer. Good.
But this brought another issue.
If there was a butler, he should have greeted her on her arrival. That was proper etiquette.
But she hadn’t seen any butler when she arrived.
“Please summon him. I’ll meet him in the drawing room.”
“Yes, right away.”
Asha hurried out.
Yuriel, with the other maids’ help, moved to the drawing room.
The castle was so big that one could easily get lost.
She had wandered outside alone the previous night—how she even made it out was still a mystery.
When she reached the drawing room, it looked more like a meeting hall—large and formal.
She waited for a while.
Knock knock.
Yuriel, sipping her tea, looked up.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and an old man with silver-white hair entered.
Though aged, he stood tall with sharp, clear eyes that gave off wisdom and strength.
“Your Grace, I am Aubrey Sheldon. I serve as the steward of this castle, though I may be lacking.”
His bow was precise, different from central customs, which showed just how long this land had been isolated.
“Nice to meet you, Aubrey. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
He took the seat across from her, smiling kindly.
To someone who didn’t know better, he would seem like just a nice old man.
But Yuriel could tell—he was sharp, experienced, and used to evaluating people.
Asha brought tea for him, then quietly left.
Now, only Yuriel and Aubrey remained.
He began cautiously:
“May I ask why you wished to see me?”
In truth, Aubrey had already been informed of Yuriel’s arrival by Akron himself.
He was surprised, of course, but he couldn’t disobey his master.
A lady from the central nobility—a count’s daughter—had come to be mistress of this castle.
There would no doubt be friction.
“She looks like someone who lived a soft, pampered life…”
He smiled as he subtly observed Yuriel.
She was beautiful—no surprise, given Akron’s taste—but that alone didn’t qualify her to be the lady of this house.
Traditionally, the new lady would receive a greeting from the steward.
But Aubrey had deliberately not come to test her.
And it seemed he had been right to do so.
He brought his teacup to his lips—only to stop midair.
“I just wanted to thank you for your consideration.”
Yuriel smiled gently.
Aubrey froze.
She casually lifted her cup and took a sip.
The tea had cooled just enough to be pleasant, leaving a delicate aroma.
Adjusting to a new place takes time. It’s good to have space for oneself.
Aubrey didn’t say a word.
He hadn’t expected her to point out his slight so calmly, without changing her expression.
“For you to make things comfortable even for me, the Duke’s wife… My husband truly is an excellent servant. I feel reassured now.”
She even placed a hand on her chest as if relieved.
Yuriel remembered the central social circles.
Words there were weapons—subtle and sharp.
She had often stayed silent at banquets, especially while Fiona shone brightly beside her in glamorous dresses.
The others mocked Yuriel’s worn-out clothes, but she never lost her composure.
Not because she was naive, but because she knew even one outburst could be used against her.
In those circles, the true skill was to speak gracefully while guiding the conversation to your advantage.
Even now, her heart thumped slightly.
“But whether he greeted me or not doesn’t matter.”
She wasn’t truly offended that Aubrey hadn’t greeted her.
In estates without a mistress, it was common for stewards to manage the household in her absence.
Aubrey had been here a long time and knew the West well. If she couldn’t earn his cooperation, life here would be difficult.
And that would mean failing as a lady of the house.
“Akron trusted me with this key.”
She had half a year left until the baby was born—perhaps even three years in the West.
Yuriel had married Akron, knowing what she was getting into—and she had vowed to do her best by his side.
That vow, and Akron’s trust, gave her strength.
