Chapter 21
“No!!”
“…Pardon?”
Oops—my voice came out way too loud and awkward.
Bessie blinked at me in surprise.
Thankfully, an excuse came to mind right away.
“I-It’s just… I feel a bit cold right now. Could you bring it to me so I can wrap it around myself?”
“Oh my, really? Are you catching a cold? What will we do—you haven’t eaten anything…”
Bessie hurried over and draped the shawl over my shoulders.
Then she and Lizzie exchanged glances and leaned closer, lowering their voices.
“Did you finish all that jerky from yesterday?”
So it was Bessie who brought me that emergency food stash.
But I deliberately hardened my expression.
“Don’t do that again, Bessie. If you get caught, we don’t know what will happen to you next time. Same goes for you, Lizzie.”
“My lady… but if you keep this up, something terrible will happen to you!”
Lizzie joined in anxiously.
“She’s right. I’ll sneak you some bread later. If I hide it in the laundry pile, it should be fine.”
“That’s enough, both of you. I’m going to sleep all day today, so just bring me some water later.”
At least Father doesn’t try to control my water intake. If they didn’t give me water, they might actually have to haul my corpse away.
More than anything, I was nervous that the man hiding in the wardrobe might overhear something.
I couldn’t claim I was treated like a cherished daughter, but I didn’t want Owen to find out that I’d been ordered not to eat and not to leave my room. That was a matter of pride.
Unfortunately, someone else had been listening to our conversation.
“What on earth is going on here?”
“!”
Bessie trembled as she turned toward the voice.
“H-Housekeeper…”
A middle-aged woman with an imposing figure stood in the doorway, wearing a scowl—Housekeeper Gemma.
She strode into the room with a menacing air.
“I asked you—what’s going on?”
This was bad. Very bad.
Gemma was notorious for using her big, toad-like hands to wield a stick or slap people senseless—perfectly in sync with Father, who also enjoyed making my cheeks burn. It was no surprise she’d risen to the position of head housemaid under the pretense of “maintaining discipline.”
Lizzie looked terrified. Everyone among the servants had felt Gemma’s heavy hand at some point.
But what Gemma was doing now was clearly overstepping her authority.
I spoke in the most dignified tone I could manage.
“Gemma, what do you think you’re doing—entering my room without my permission?”
She flinched at my words. Come to think of it, before my regression, I’d never looked her straight in the eye. I’d always been afraid of her, hiding behind Father’s power.
But Gemma quickly recovered her composure and said lazily,
“I apologize, my lady. But as the head housemaid, I couldn’t ignore what I just heard.”
“What exactly did you hear?”
I asked boldly.
“Are you admitting you were eavesdropping in my room without permission?”
“That’s not—”
“Oh! Now that I think about it, I recall passing by and seeing you with your ear to Father’s office door. If you eavesdropped once, why not twice? Shall I tell Father about that?”
It was a complete bluff, but Gemma’s face went pale. She might be loyal to Father, but his trust in her wasn’t unshakable—he trusted no one completely.
If he even suspected she’d been snooping around his office, he’d dismiss her without hesitation.
“That’s slander! How could you doubt my loyalty and try to drive a wedge between master and servant?”
“When have you ever been loyal to me, Gemma? You’ve never treated me as your mistress.”
She couldn’t deny that. Her face flushed red.
Anger burning in her eyes, Gemma scanned the room—then her gaze fixed on one spot.
The tea table.
She strode toward it with a triumphant smile.
Oh no. Something was wrong. From my angle, I couldn’t see what she was looking at, but I had a bad feeling.
“My, my, my lady. I do recall the master ordered you not to eat and not to leave your room.”
Like an investigator presenting key evidence, Gemma plucked the jerky from the table and held it up high.
“So, what is this jerky I see here?”
Damn. I was busted.
But I couldn’t just admit it.
“That’s been in my room from before.”
“No, it was in the kitchen pantry. In fact, I’ve just checked and found one piece missing from my personal stash.”
She was smiling so smugly, I wanted to wipe it off her face.
I switched tactics.
“Of course you’d think that! What, do you think I slaughtered a cow here in my room, butchered it, and made jerky? I took it early in the morning the day before Father gave his order. When exactly did you count the pieces, Gemma? Are you accusing me without evidence and trying to drive a wedge between father and daughter?”
This was partly a gamble, but I trusted Bessie. She would have stolen the jerky immediately after Father’s no-food order. And Gemma probably only counted them this morning.
My guess seemed right—she changed her words.
“Even so, my lady, the master clearly forbade you to eat. Whether you took it before or after, you shouldn’t have eaten what was in your room.”
Oh, sure—let’s see her try going all day without food, worshipping Father’s words like they’re divine, and ignoring jerky sitting right in front of her!
And besides—I’d only taken one bite.
I, Sophia, would not back down out of sheer indignation.
“Gemma, do you know what happens if a person doesn’t eat for a week?”
“That’s…”
“They die. The only reason my father isn’t a scoundrel who starved his daughter to death is because I disobeyed him to stay alive.”
“What ridiculous nonsense—”
“Then tell me this, Gemma. As the Marquess of Bartoli’s eldest daughter, was I truly supposed to starve for a week, just to obey my father’s order?”
She stared at me silently, then replied sharply,
“That’s not for me to answer—that’s for the master to decide. With the eldest daughter acting so childish and unrepentant, no wonder Lady Leonie is always worried about you. In any case, I will be reporting this to the master.”
That—ugh!
Grinding my teeth, I watched her leave—probably headed straight to tattle to Father.
Leonie, Leonie—always Leonie. I was sick to death of hearing her name.
I quickly pushed Bessie and Lizzie toward the door.
“You two should go. Father will be here soon. Don’t get caught up in this.”
“My lady…”
Bessie’s eyes welled up.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault…”
“What are you talking about? I should’ve hidden it better.”
“Who could’ve known Gemma would barge in like that?”
“Just go.”
I didn’t think my arguments would actually work. My only goal was to get Bessie and Lizzie out of here before the head maid could harm them.
They kept glancing back at me as they left the room.
Finally alone, I let out a long breath—then turned around.
The wardrobe door was wide open.
The same wardrobe I’d hidden the Grand Duke of Glentino in.
‘What? Did he slip out quietly when the timing was right?’
I hadn’t noticed at all.
But maybe that was for the best—I didn’t want him to see Father yelling at me.
Relieved, I stepped forward to close the wardrobe.
“Are they gone?”
“Ahhh!”
Owen suddenly popped out from behind the door.
This time, he quickly covered my mouth, so my scream didn’t escape.
When he let go, I spoke quickly,
“Why are you out here? Didn’t you hear? Father’s coming!”
“I did hear. That’s why I’m here.”
“What? What do you—”
Before I could finish, I heard footsteps.
Two people—no doubt Father and the head maid.
I shoved Owen back behind the door.
Before my regression, I’d spent my whole life watching Father’s moods.
By now, I could tell how angry he was just from the sound of his steps.
If “0” was his usual cold dislike, and “10” was full-blown rage enough to disown me—
Right now, he was at… a 7.
Lucky Seven. Big trouble.
Whatever Gemma had told him, he was far angrier than I’d expected.
I braced myself.
Bang!
The door flew open without even a knock.
Of course, I’d already stepped back, so I avoided hitting my forehead.
The one who did get hit was Owen, hiding behind the door. But instead of making a sound, he quickly grabbed the doorknob to steady it, completely concealing himself from view.
