Chapter 18
Thanks to Malea, a slight burn had formed—but it wasn’t enough. If it was to serve her plan, the wound needed to be more severe and visible.
Before Malea arrived, Odette glanced at the table in the kitchen, where the sunlight pouring through the window always dried the tea leaves.
“Leaves from the Vesuvio Red Tree.”
With a swift movement, she grabbed a handful of the best-dried tea leaves and crushed them in her hand, sprinkling them onto her calf.
As the red tea touched the burn dampened by hot water, the injury quickly distorted into a dark crimson color.
What had merely been a faint pink burn now blistered, turning into something grotesque—nothing like before.
“Even with the wound this distorted, I don’t feel any pain.”
It was exactly like the setup from <Dan-gu Garden>.
The Vesuvio Red Tree was an herb that Charlotte discovered midway through <Dan-gu Garden> as a remedy for burns.
Though it severely disfigured the wound for a month during the healing process, the skin would return smoother and clearer than before. However, at this point in time, it was only known as a tea leaf for brewing.
Which meant that Malea would never suspect anything.
“Why did you call for me?”
Right on time, Malea entered the kitchen.
“Do you know what my brother hates most in the world? It’s when my body is scarred.”
Having waited long enough for the Red Tree’s side effects to peak, Odette turned to Malea.
Her face and posture were elegant—hardly like someone plotting a scheme.
“So what are we going to do, Malea? Since you left a burn scar on my leg, my brother’s not going to let you go unpunished.”
“P-Pardon? What do you mean? The tea I spilled wasn’t that hot—”
Odette lightly lifted her skirt, the movement graceful as a dancer. Beautiful, yet Malea had no mind to appreciate it.
The raw red wound revealed beneath the skirt was far too alarming.
“Th-That’s impossible!”
Malea’s eyes widened as she screamed.
‘It’s shocking, I know. The tea she spilled was only hot enough to sting slightly.’
The shock on Malea’s face slowly morphed into suspicion.
“My lady… this scar—are you sure I caused it?”
Odette silently admired Malea’s quick wits, but outwardly, she scolded her.
“How shameless of you, Malea. There are plenty of people in this house who saw you spill that hot tea on me, yet you’re denying it?”
“B-But the tea wasn’t that hot! I cooled it myself before serving. That kind of injury would require freshly boiled water!”
Malea’s voice trembled with a mix of outrage and desperation.
“Please, tell the truth, my lady. That wound can’t possibly be from me!”
Odette couldn’t help but chuckle at Malea’s desperate, glaring eyes.
“But it is from you.”
“No, it can’t—”
“Even if, as you say, it can’t be… does that even matter? What’s important isn’t the truth, but whether someone believes you.”
“…”
“If you’re so confident, why not go around telling everyone? That while you did spill hot tea on me, the burn isn’t your fault.”
Odette gave a relaxed smile, contrasting sharply with Malea’s panic.
But only her tone was soft—her teal eyes glinted like knives. Realizing this, Malea finally fell silent.
Her eyes brimmed with fear and frustration—she had finally realized that she’d walked into a trap. One she had no way out of.
No matter how she pleaded the truth, it would be useless. There had been plenty of witnesses. Everyone would think this wound was caused by the new maid.
‘And a scar on my body is considered a serious crime in this house.’
Though she was ignored in the count’s estate, Odette’s body was still regarded as precious.
Because Fernan was obsessively possessive over it.
He abhorred any injuries on her body, especially scars. Around the time of the Crown Prince Rampage Incident, his obsession neared madness.
The approaching day she would stop pretending to be a “Purifier” also meant the day he would discard her.
‘Because he plans to discard me soon, he wants my body flawless until the end.’
Like a child obsessing over a toy he’s about to throw away.
Even Paula could only hit Odette because she had her mother’s full protection.
‘But Malea, with no one backing her, leaving a scar? Fernan would gladly kill her.’
Having reached the same conclusion, Malea immediately fell to her knees.
“My lady, please spare me! Please, protect me from the young master!”
“Malea.”
“You calling me here privately to threaten me… Doesn’t that mean you’re willing to keep this scar a secret? I’ll do anything you ask!”
‘Still as sharp as ever. Just like in my previous life.’
Though falsely accused, she quickly realized Odette was her only lifeline. She knew how to grab the rope first, even if it meant swallowing her pride.
‘And she knows when to be humble.’
No wonder she climbed the ranks and became the countess’s personal maid after Paula. Even that eccentric woman doted on her.
“Raise your head, Malea.”
Odette gave her a kind smile.
“I like how quick you are. Yes, that’s exactly what I want. In exchange for hiding this scar, I want you to follow my lead.”
The countess’s wealth mainly came from the massive dowry she brought into the marriage.
Odette planned to use Malea to steal that money. But for that to work, Malea first had to win the countess’s favor.
“If you’d just tell me what you want right now—”
“No, Malea. I don’t plan to threaten you just yet. First, we need to see if you’re worth the effort.”
“…Pardon?”
“Become my mother’s personal maid first. Then we’ll talk about what you really need to do.”
Malea looked genuinely shocked.
‘She must’ve thought this would be a one-off blackmail.’
Even the lowest-ranked maids disregarded Odette.
They all trusted Head Maid Dolly and Paula, who badmouthed Odette every day—saying she was an idiot who relied on her father’s favor to act like a brat.
So Malea likely thought Odette’s threats wouldn’t amount to much either.
“Malea, did you really think a single act of blackmail was enough to compensate for the scar on my body?”
Judging by Malea’s guilty expression, that’s exactly what she’d thought.
But she quickly straightened her face and said,
“That’s not it, my lady. But your demand is… unreasonable! The position of the countess’s personal maid is usually given to someone from her own family’s household. I’m a new maid—it’s impossible!”
“It’s only impossible if I have no use for you.”
Odette’s unwavering words silenced Malea.
“Go to the first-floor gallery during tonight’s dinner. When Rolf is managing the artwork.”
“…Sorry?”
“There are quite a few fakes among the gallery’s pieces. Point out the forgeries. You’ll become a personal maid in no time.”
That was exactly how Malea rose to the top in Odette’s previous life.
