25
“…So, hmm, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
Heivern almost let her name slip but barely managed to redirect his words. His face was as cool as always, but the back of his neck was slightly red.
However, because the office was dim, Roze didn’t notice the change. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say she was too nervous to pick up on it.
She clasped her hands tightly and took a deep breath. Instead of looking directly at Heivern, her gaze wandered to the view outside the window over his shoulder.
“Ah…”
It had seemed like it would rain endlessly, but now sunlight peeked through the clouds. Roze stared in awe at a raindrop that had fallen from the top of the window and sparkled in the sunlight. But she quickly realized her mistake and lowered her head.
“I apologize. I was momentarily distracted…”
“…It’s fine. So, what was it you wanted to say?”
Heivern glanced briefly toward the window Roze had been looking at. But he couldn’t understand what had captivated her. All he could see was the thinning rain and the faint sunlight coming through.
He turned his head to look at her again. As their eyes met, Roze intertwined her fingers and took another deep breath. Curious about what she was going to say, Heivern’s brows furrowed.
Honestly, he had no reason to have this kind of conversation with a maid. Usually, the head maid or steward handled such things. This entire situation was out of the ordinary. If someone saw them, it could cause unnecessary rumors.
‘Was I foolish to allow this?’
Just as Heivern began to regret his impulsive decision, Roze took a deep breath again, looked straight at him, and opened her mouth.
“I would like Your Highness to spend more time with the Lady.”
“…What?”
Heivern’s expression hardened. Roze continued speaking, meeting his cold gaze.
“You spend far too little time with her. Aside from breakfast…”
“Wait.”
He raised his hand and cut her off mid-sentence. Roze opened her mouth but closed it again. Heivern, watching her, spoke coldly.
“Are you trying to lecture me right now?”
“No, I would never…”
“Even though I’ve hired you as Flitta’s personal maid, I never granted you that kind of authority.”
There was clear displeasure in Heivern’s voice. From his perspective, it was only natural—being spoken to in a scolding tone by a mere maid was offensive. Roze felt sweat on her palms and wiped them on her skirt.
“I never even dreamed of overstepping. I’m simply grateful to serve the Lady. She’s truly a lovely child.”
A faint smile passed across the face of the woman, who had been frozen with tension. It wasn’t a fake smile aimed at impressing Heivern—it was genuine. She clearly found Flitta to be lovable.
Seeing this, Heivern felt his irritation soften slightly. Still, his expression remained cold—just like the one everyone knew as the Duke’s usual face.
“I believe Your Highness also finds the Lady to be lovable.”
“…”
“Could you not show her just a little more of that affection?”
Roze’s green eyes were unwavering. Even while facing Heivern’s icy expression, she didn’t avoid his gaze and spoke her mind. He looked at this bold maid and asked back,
“Why should I?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Did Flitta complain to you or something? And so you took a child’s whining seriously and came to me?”
Heivern sneered. Roze’s gaze wavered at his words. He turned to look out the window. The rain had stopped completely now, and sunlight poured in. But rather than the light, his eyes focused on the rainwater collected on the window frame.
Suddenly, a memory from earlier that morning surfaced—Roze wobbling under the weight of a laundry basket bigger than herself.
She was a foolish woman. Yet also consistent. Always acting without knowing her place.
“That child is not just any ordinary girl. She’s the blood of Gwenthus and the only Lady of the house—my daughter.”
He spoke in a calm tone. His blue eyes looking at Roze were deeply noble. It was a side of him Roze hadn’t known. Not the man who had laughed with her, gathering herbs and getting covered in dirt.
He was saying the same was true of Flitta. That even if she had given birth to her, the child could never be hers. It sounded like a declaration.
Resentment stirred within her—mixed with sorrow and tangled feelings.
“She’s a lovely ‘five-year-old’ girl.”
Roze met his gaze head-on with her green eyes. He might grow angry at her insolence, but she still wanted to speak. Not out of defiance alone.
More than that, she was thinking of Flitta—her daughter, who always shrank away and was too conscious of others’ gazes, unlike a normal child.
“It’s difficult for a five-year-old to wake up early every morning. Normally, kids rub their eyes awake when the sun is high in the sky.”
“…”
“But the Lady wakes up early every morning, even when she’s still sleepy and her eyes won’t open. She often nods off while I do her hair. And yet, she’s never been late. At least not since I arrived. I’m sure it was the same before.”
Roze looked at Heivern, who was silently listening. His hair, once wet, had dried by now. But it wasn’t its usual tidy self—it had dried naturally, slightly wavy.
Like Flitta’s.
Even now, she found herself noticing how alike they looked, and her eyes welled up with tears.
“Do you know why she wakes up so early every day?”
“…”
Heivern raised his gaze. His blue eyes met Roze’s green ones.
“Because it’s the only time she gets to be with you, Your Highness.”
“…”
“She’s afraid of you, but she also really likes you. You’re her father—her only family. That’s why that little girl tries so hard…”
Roze trailed off. It was a sudden silence, but a silence without weight. After all, what power could the silence of a mere maid hold?
Then why did this nervous feeling creep in?
Heivern questioned himself inwardly and furrowed his brow, finding the very question ridiculous. Nervous? As if he were a scolded child?
No—he hadn’t even been scolded as a child. Who would dare scold the king’s son?
She was a bold maid. As Heivern suppressed a scoff and looked at her with a curious glint in his eye, Roze spoke again.
“Why is it that Your Highness makes no effort? Or rather… why must a five-year-old be the one making all the effort?”
She asked accusingly. Had the steward seen this, he’d have fainted from the audacity. Fortunately for Roze, he had not returned yet—and Heivern merely watched this maid who spoke to him so frankly.
“Effort?”
“Yes, effort. Children shouldn’t have to try so hard. That’s the job of adults. A child should be loved just for existing.”
“…”
“But the Lady is always trying to be loved. She should be able to whine and pout, to beg and throw fits—but she never does any of that.”
“Well, of course not. Flitta is a Lady…”
“Before that, she’s just a five-year-old child, Your Highness.”
Roze cut him off. She looked straight into his eyes and continued.
“And before being a Duke, Your Highness is the Lady’s father.”
“…”
“Please just give her a little more of your time. And when you eat breakfast together, instead of eating in silence, just greet her. If you simply smile a little when she greets you, she’ll be happy the whole day.”
This impertinent maid had too much to say for someone speaking on something not her concern. Heivern stared at Roze, who kept making requests. She looked fragile, as though she would be soft-hearted—but unexpectedly, she seemed stubborn.
It was odd that such stubbornness wasn’t for herself, but for Flitta.
“When the Lady wears a ribbon, you could also tell her she looks pretty and pat her head…”
“I think that’s enough.”
Heivern cut her off. Roze opened her mouth again, but just then, a knock at the door interrupted her.
—Your Highness, the bathwater is ready.
The steward had returned.
* *
“Where have you been wandering off to?”
As Roze entered the room, a sharp voice greeted her. It was the nanny. Roze closed the bedroom door and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry. I had to step out for a moment…”
“It must have been something more important than attending to the Lady?”
The nanny sneered and glared at her coldly. Roze didn’t answer—she simply bowed her head again.
Then she lifted her head and met eyes with Flitta, who had been sitting next to the nanny, reading a storybook. Flitta was fidgeting with the edge of her book, clearly wanting to side with Roze but too afraid to.
Roze gave her a small smile, and Flitta’s face brightened just a little.
