Chapter : 04
Jacqueline sat down across from the child with a gentle smile. The head seat remained empty. After briefly glancing at the vacant spot, she turned her gaze toward Benjamin.
“I’m sure you’re looking forward to your first meal at the Preston residence.”
“…….”
The child still did not utter a word. He merely stared straight ahead with a tense expression.
Soon, the dining room door opened once more. Jacqueline glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and widened her eyes as the hour and minute hands pointed precisely to seven.
Windsor, arriving alongside the butler, halted at the doorway. His eyes swept over Jacqueline and Benjamin in turn.
“Well, since Miss Somerset has arrived, I thought we could all have dinner together….”
The child mumbled, as if making an excuse. Benjamin, seated at the table later than usual, lowered his head further, as though he had committed a grave offense.
Windsor pointed out in an indifferent tone,
“When you speak, use a clear tone—never trail off uncertainly at the end.”
“Yes, sir!”
At those words, Benjamin stiffened, his shoulders tense. He then lifted his head and looked straight ahead.
“I thought we would have dinner together since Miss Somerset has come.”
“I’ll eat later.”
Windsor turned and left the dining room immediately.
Benjamin’s shoulders slumped, his expression turning gloomy. Even without a word, it was clear just how disappointed the child was.
William began serving the two as if nothing had happened. Dishes were brought out one by one.
Jacqueline unfolded her rolled napkin and placed it on her lap. She whispered softly, as if to offer comfort,
“It seems Lord Preston doesn’t want to dine with me. We had a minor disagreement earlier.”
In other words, Windsor had walked away not because of the child, but because of her.
Jacqueline made a comical face behind the butler’s back, but Benjamin didn’t laugh this time either. Embarrassed, she smoothed her expression and reached for a piece of bread.
At that moment,
“Uncle never… dines with anyone else.”
Benjamin’s somber voice drifted across the table. Understanding the hidden meaning, Jacqueline whispered even more gently,
“Oh, is that so? Then from now on, Benjamin, you’ll be dining with me.”
The child gave a nod, his expression unreadable—neither pleased nor displeased. Jacqueline chewed on her bread, thinking that life at the Preston household might not be as smooth as she had anticipated.
At least the cook’s skills were outstanding. Holding her spoon, she elegantly—but faster than ever before—cleared her plate.
It suddenly dawned on her that this meal was, in fact, her first proper one of the day.
[This is the timeline separator]
Five hundred and fifty-two, five hundred and fifty-three, five hundred and fifty-four…
Jacqueline, staring up at the shadowy ceiling, eventually let out a deep sigh. She had counted to five hundred and fifty-four sheep, yet her eyes remained wide awake.
It had been a whirlwind of a day. Though she hadn’t realized it consciously, she must have been quite tense—evident from her inability to fall asleep even now.
“Well, it’d be strange not to feel nervous. It’s an unfamiliar place, filled with unfamiliar people.”
She comforted herself with a soft murmur, adding gently, “For a first day, this is quite impressive.”
“Hmm… perhaps a cup of tea would help.”
Having given up on sleep, she finally threw off the covers and got out of bed. She knew from experience that, in such moments, it was better to move her body.
Late spring days were as warm as a mother’s embrace, but the night air still carried a chill. She hesitated briefly, watching the darkness, then shook her head.
It was late. Most of the maids would already be resting in their quarters; only a few servants would remain on duty in the mansion.
They were likely curled up in narrow beds, catching light naps in case they were suddenly needed.
“It’d be rude to wake them.”
She had just opened her door, wearing a robe, when she paused.
Since childhood, Jacqueline had possessed a vivid imagination. Though this trait could sometimes be an asset, today it proved a liability.
The dark hallway seemed to split open like the gaping maw of a monster. Steeling herself as if about to thrust her head into its jaws, she took a hesitant step forward—then slowly turned her head.
“What’s that, Colin? You’re scared to stay alone? Honestly, you’re still such a child. Fine, let’s go together.”
She returned to the bed, picked up the teddy bear beside her pillow, and hugged it tightly in both arms. Then, with newfound courage, she stepped boldly into the dark corridor.
When walking through an endless tunnel, even the smallest warmth can bring comfort. And Jacqueline was still right in the middle of that long tunnel—
somewhere along the path a “penniless noble miss” had to tread.
She didn’t know how far she’d come or how much farther lay ahead—she only hoped she wouldn’t collapse midway, for then she might neither return nor go forward.
Fortunately, she reached the kitchen without getting lost. Benjamin had shown her the way, and besides, a distinct warmth emanated from that direction.
Even in an age when steamships sailed and locomotives crisscrossed continents, a housekeeper’s foremost duty remained: never letting the kitchen fire die out.
Having safely reached her destination, Jacqueline lit an oil lamp using the embers that still glowed. Though it illuminated only a foot ahead, that small light was enough for her, who had been swallowed by utter darkness.
The monster that had seemed ready to devour her retreated, its maw pulling back just beyond the lamp’s reach.
“First, I need the kettle… but where is it?”
Brewing tea in an unfamiliar kitchen was harder than it sounded. Still, Jacqueline persisted, rummaging until she finally managed to set the kettle on the stove.
Next, she scanned the row of cabinets. The fourth one held the tea leaves. As she opened its door, she paused.
“Hmm?”
She thought she heard footsteps. She held her breath and listened—but no sound followed.
“Did I imagine it?”
Hoo… hoo…
An owl hooted nearby.
Frowning slightly, she took out the tea canister. She checked the aroma, then scooped the right amount of leaves with a spoon—only to freeze again.
“Eh?”
This time, the footsteps sounded clearer. She spun around quickly, but no one was there. Only the deep darkness stared back at her.
The monster’s maw.
Her hair stood on end. Swallowing hard, Jacqueline mustered her courage.
“Who’s there?”
Her own voice sounded strangely tense as it escaped her lips. Just then, a strong gust of wind blew outside the window.
Eeeeeee…
The wind whistling through the window crack sounded eerily like a woman’s scream.
“C-c’mon, Colin. It’s all right. It’s nothing.”
Unconsciously, she pulled Colin closer. Her heart began pounding wildly, racing like mad.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Her throat kept drying up. The moment she turned around again—
“!”
A dark shadow suddenly emerged from beyond the wall. Jacqueline, noticing it a moment too late, widened her eyes and opened her mouth.
“Kyaa…!”
Just as she was about to scream, a large hand clamped over her mouth. Her heart plummeted with a thud.
The terror of a monster from her imagination stepping into reality was indescribable. Her mind already painted a gruesome end for herself.
Oh, God!
As she murmured a final prayer, a deep voice spoke above her—far too polite to belong to a monster.
“This isn’t quite the hour for screaming, Miss Somerset.”
“…Uh-wuh-eh?”
A muffled sound escaped between his fingers. Only then did the hand over her mouth withdraw.
“Lord Preston?”
Jacqueline asked again, enunciating each syllable clearly. Her suspicious gaze carefully scrutinized the shadow cloaked in darkness.
Maybe it was a monster mimicking Lord Preston’s voice—she thought she’d read a book like that once.
Her vivid imagination swirled once more. Holding the oil lamp, she brought it closer to Windsor’s face.
“Oh—it really is Lord Preston.”
She finally exhaled in relief. Her tense body went limp like soaked cotton.
Windsor frowned slightly and stepped back, avoiding the lamplight. His voice slipped out flatly through clenched teeth.
“What, exactly, are you doing here at this hour, Miss Somerset?”
Suddenly,
Jacqueline moved the lamp closer again—by the exact distance he had retreated—as if afraid he might transform into a monster if he slipped out of the light.
The crease between Windsor’s brows deepened further.
“Oh!”
At that moment, Jacqueline’s eyes widened. Windsor narrowed his eyes, watching her as she made no move to answer his question.
Was she deliberately evading it?
But then—
“You look… a lot like Benjamin.”
Her eyes softened, curving like crescent moons. Windsor looked at her silently, his green irises glowing unmistakably even in the dark.
“During the day, you slick your hair back with pomade, so I couldn’t tell—but it’s actually soft and fluffy, just like cotton candy. Like Benjamin’s.”
Windsor’s frown tightened slightly, as if trying to guess what she was thinking.
He had sharper senses of sight and hearing than most—whether due to his mother’s influence as an opera singer or habits formed in the military, he didn’t know.
All he knew was that he always noticed when something was off before anyone else did—so often, in fact, that enemy alerts only sounded after he’d already moved.
His close aide Roman once joked, “Do you have some kind of sixth sense?” and earned a sharp glare for his trouble.
Now, his keen ears caught the sound of footsteps quietly crossing the corridor—refined and graceful, unlike any maid’s.
Windsor immediately recognized whose steps they were—and wondered why she was moving about so late, avoiding others’ eyes.
After checking the clock, he slowly rose from his seat. Roman had said she hadn’t yet made contact with the king, but it was Windsor’s duty to doubt even that.
He wasn’t the type to regret after the fact. He was a cautious, deliberate man.
“Next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d make a bit more noise. You really gave me quite a fright.”
A trace of reproach tinged her voice, and her gaze held more sharpness than usual.
Suddenly, Windsor’s eyes dropped downward. He faintly furrowed his brows at the sight of the teddy bear clasped tightly in Jacqueline’s arms.
Quickly noticing his expression, she hurried to explain, as if making excuses.
