“…Dianther. Have you read today’s paper?”
“If you’ve called me here because of that article, Father, then yes — I’ve already read it. Please, speak your mind.”
Her calm reply flowed out evenly, her tone as serene as ever.
There was not a trace of agitation in her voice — exactly as she always was.
Albert del Aspania, Duke of Aspania, let out a dry, bitter laugh.
His daughter — so ignorant of the ways of the world — could still respond so calmly.
“And yet you seem so unbothered. Do you even understand what all this means?”
“I do, Father.”
“Then tell me.”
Dianther turned her gaze quietly toward the Duke.
Even without looking up, the restrained anger in his voice made it clear he was barely holding back his fury.
Newspapers were strewn carelessly across the surface of his heavy oak desk.
Dianther stood with perfect posture, her gaze lowered.
“I believe you already know what happened, Father.”
“Then are you saying everything written in this paper is true?”
“Yes.”
Not a hint of hesitation.
The Duke slammed his fist down on the desk. The piles of documents stacked to one side quivered dangerously.
His voice came out cold, slicing through the air.
“…Dianther. Are you trying to deceive your own father? You are my daughter. Don’t think for a moment you can lie to me.”
“…”
“The son of the Callinan family isn’t that kind of man. And to say something like that happened right in the Callinan estate? You’d sooner cover the sky with your palms than make that believable. And you—”
He paused, staring anew at the daughter before him.
What a beautiful child she was. Dianther was like a newly bloomed lily.
When she was born, the Duke had vowed to protect her from every danger in the world — to shield her from all harm, to keep every unworthy hand from touching her.
It had been the natural resolve of a father.
And as the Duke of Aspania, he had both the power and means to ensure it.
That was why, when she was still very young, he had her betrothed to the son of House Callinan.
The world was too cruel, and she — far too beautiful to be sent into it unguarded.
But now… what on earth had his daughter done?
“…There must be a reason for this, mustn’t there? Tell me, Dianther.”
“…I wish to break off my engagement with the Callinan family, Father.”
“…What?”
“Please, grant me permission to annul my engagement with Edward Edwin Callinan.”
The Duke could not speak for a long moment.
Her voice was quiet, but there was no tremor in it — only a firm, unshakable resolve.
This wasn’t a whim. It wasn’t rebellion born of youthful caprice.
Her tone carried the weight of long anticipation — as though she had been waiting for this very moment, fully prepared, for years.
He stayed silent, studying her expression, trying to grasp her intent.
But stubbornness — that, she had inherited from him.
Finally, the Duke let out a hollow laugh.
“So that’s it? All this… for a broken engagement?”
“This is not something I did lightly, Father. I am completely sincere—”
“Even to the point of using your maid? I wondered why you insisted on bringing that girl into this house. It seems you did it only to drag her into this disgraceful affair.”
At the word maid, Dianther froze — only for a moment, so faint a change that few would have noticed. But the Duke did.
There was something more. Something he didn’t yet know.
He spoke of that day five years ago.
“Five years ago, you made a request of me — something you had never done before. I thought it strange even then.
“The girl’s background was uncertain. Did you think I wouldn’t look into it? Her references and documents existed, yes, but they were little more than a facade. Her trail ended abruptly, impossible to trace further.”
“I let it go only because you barely interacted with her. I thought it might be time you learned what kind of people to keep close.”
“…”
“And this is what it was all for? You used your own maid for this nonsense? Dianther, I must have been utterly blind to have misjudged you so.”
“The girl only helped me, Father — nothing more. You may think what you will. I have no regrets about what I did.”
Dianther lowered her gaze. Her calm tone did not waver.
As the only daughter of the Duke of Aspania, she had long been taught never to reveal her true emotions before others.
She had understood her station and duty earlier than anyone expected. Acting the part had never been difficult for her — to appear as the perfect, aloof noblewoman of Aspania.
The “Ice Lady of Aspania,” they called her — not without reason.
Even the Duke had thought it better that way. He himself was not a warm man, and in the cold, merciless world of nobility, only the hard-hearted survived.
But now, the same daughter he thought he knew so well had done something utterly unthinkable — and said she felt no regret.
He no longer knew this child standing before him.
Where has the daughter I knew gone?
A broken engagement?
The Duke could not comprehend such foolishness from a daughter who had always been so mature.
His gaze fell again upon the newspapers scattered across his desk, and his insides twisted in disgust.
Finally, his tightly pressed lips parted.
“Then you will take responsibility for all of this. Fix everything. I won’t interfere. Use money, use people — do whatever it takes. Even if you end up in tears of regret, you will clean up your own mess. Did you truly believe your father would grant you a peaceful annulment after you let such scandal spread through the papers?”
“Father… do you still not understand why I’m doing this?”
“I have no desire to understand.”
He cut her off. But Dianther met his gaze head-on, unflinching.
“You already know. You know that the one I love is not Edward — but His Highness Kian de Idris.”
“Dianther!”
“I no longer wish to live confined in your greenhouse, Father. A life where everything is perfect, so nothing ever happens. Please, let me live by my own choices — not by the perfect plans you made for me.”
The Duke shouted, but she didn’t flinch.
He closed his mouth tightly.
In that instant, he understood.
He understood what his daughter was truly trying to do — why she had gone so far.
From the corner of the room, the ticking of the great clock echoed faintly —
Tick… tock…
Before time ran out, this absurd story had to end.
“…Dianther. Do not test your father’s patience any further.”
“Everything I’ve said to you, Father, is the truth. Please don’t turn away from it.”
“Enough. I will pretend I didn’t hear any of this. Return to your room. Until I give permission, you will not take a single step outside this estate.”
“…As you wish, Father.”
Lifting the hem of her dress, Dianthe bowed deeply.
Click.
The door closed softly behind her.
Even as she left, there was no sign of hesitation, remorse, or fear in her demeanor.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Albert del Aspania exhaled deeply, as if the air itself weighed heavy in his chest. His insides burned, like he had swallowed fire.
Leaning on his desk, he tried to retrace what had just happened — this incomprehensible conversation with his daughter.
If he had heard correctly… Dianther had spoken of Kian, the Second Prince.
So she still hasn’t let go?
He had thought she’d forgotten. Believed it was all a thing of the past.
Apparently, he was the only one foolish enough to think so.
The Duke clenched his trembling fists and swept the disgusting newspapers off the desk. But it changed nothing.
________✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓉞___________
“…”
Meg’s office always made me nervous, no matter how many times I visited. Whether for the monthly evaluations or to report on schedule, it never changed.
I sat down on the chair before her immaculate desk — neat and spotless, just like Meg herself — and exhaled quietly.
It had already been half an hour since she told me to wait here. I thought she’d return quickly, but she hadn’t.
Perhaps she’d forgotten about me entirely — though that was unlikely for someone like Meg.
I still have work left today, I thought,
so if she doesn’t come back soon, I should just return to the lady’s annex.
That was when the door opened.
Creak—
“…Amel Kiselle.”
“…Head maid.”
Meg stepped inside, her expression cold as ever, and took the seat opposite me.
Removing her glasses and setting them on the desk, she fixed me with a frigid stare that felt as if it stripped me bare.
I took a deep breath, trying not to tremble like a fool.
“…Amel. Everyone in this household is talking about what you did yesterday. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“…No, head maid. There’s nothing in particular to report.”
“……”
It was true. There was nothing about yesterday’s events worth reporting to her.
I had only carried out my role faithfully — as the lady’s errand girl.
But Meg’s frown deepened.
“…Nothing to report, you say? So you’re confident in what you did?”
“…What do you mean—”
“I had my doubts about you lately, but even I didn’t think you’d go that far. I was there yesterday, yet I didn’t believe what I didn’t see with my own eyes. Tell me, Amel — are the rumors spreading through this house true?”
Her voice was sharp, cutting straight to the point. I bit down hard on my lip and said nothing.
Because in that moment, a voice echoed in my mind —
‘Until the contract ends, you must maintain your position as Lady Dianther del Aspania’s personal maid.’
That was what Edward Callinan had told me on the Merieliot River Bridge, when we’d sealed our contract.
Our agreement had one condition — the annulment of Dianther del Aspania and Edward Edwin Callinan’s engagement.
And until that annulment became official, I had to remain as the lady’s personal maid.
Which meant I had no choice now but to feign ignorance.
I met Meg’s icy gaze with as much courage as I could muster.
“No, head maid. It’s not true.”
