Elena chewed her lower lip, meeting the maid’s gaze. Alongside her voice, worry was reflected in her pupils. Elena recalled that this maid was among those who muttered or sneered behind her back whenever she passed by. It was clear she didn’t hold Elena in high regard. She didn’t even address Elena with the title ‘Miss’ nor say a word to her. Instead, she would subtly retreat if Elena approached. Yet now, she looked at Elena as if she were a completely different person.
“Yes, I have His Grace’s permission to attend to Lady Hazel,” Elena replied, smoothing her voice as if nothing were amiss.
“Did His Grace really approve? Well… I guess that’s why you’re out and about like this,” the maid remarked, seemingly aware of Elena’s confinement within her room.
Elena felt a twinge of discomfort, but forced a smile.
“Even His Grace can’t intervene in matters related to his fiancée.”
At the maid’s muttered words, Elena stiffened. The single word ‘fiancée’ felt like a heavy blow to her head. She had tried not to dwell on it, but Hazel was indeed Kennard’s fiancée. And not just anyone, but the one chosen by the Emperor of Baruchella, making her an incomparable figure to Elena.
As the maid bowed in acknowledgment and made her way toward the other maids, Elena watched, her thoughts swirling with a mix of emotions.
In the meantime, she tightly clenched the gloves in her hand until wrinkles formed, then gradually relaxed her grip.
Why bother comparing? No, I shouldn’t compare. How dare I measure myself against a noblewoman like her? It’s absurd, Elena chided herself inwardly, her gaze blank as the maids pushed a tray of food toward her.
Elena, don’t forget. No matter how extravagant the dress you wear or how big the room you occupy, don’t delude yourself. The scars and wounds on your body betray your true status. And besides… The voice echoed in Elena’s mind, a relentless reminder of her reality.
She inwardly shouted at herself, You don’t even know your own name.
Struggling to maintain her composure, Elena fought against the overwhelming urge to collapse onto the floor. Most of her time within the castle had been spent seated on a bed or sofa, making the strain of standing for prolonged periods nearly unbearable. Yet, in this moment, the weight in her heart surpassed the burden on her body.
Desperately longing to retreat to the solace of her bedroom, Elena found herself battling against the impulse to flee the confines of the castle entirely. Can’t I simply remain by His Grace’s side like this? The thought startled her, its audacity catching her off guard.
But she quickly dismissed it as impossible. Elena knew all too well that entertaining such fantasies was futile. Elena, why have you become so cocky? she chastised herself, grappling with the conflicting desires within her.
***
“Don’t touch me!” Hazel’s sharp voice reverberated in the bathroom, causing Elena to retract her hand slowly, meeting Hazel’s gaze with a mixture of apprehension and apology.
As the moisture on her hand made contact with the hem of her dress, the turquoise fabric darkened, spreading over a larger wet area.
Clutching the hem of her dress tightly, Elena observed Hazel’s profile. Hazel reclined in the wide bathtub, the water enveloping her body up to her chest. Moments ago, she had been leaning against the tub’s edge, her eyes closed in relaxation.
Elena broke the oppressive silence by pouring warm water over Hazel’s head, her hand trembling, causing droplets to cascade onto Hazel’s face from her forehead.
“I heard you bathe every day. How is it that you can’t even wash my hair properly?” Hazel’s voice was laced with disdain as she scooped up water from the tub, rinsing her face repeatedly before pushing her wet hair back.
Her porcelain-like skin shimmered in the candlelight, the wet strands of her hair gleaming like silk under the lamp’s glow.
“You can’t do anything right,” Hazel remarked, her criticism biting. Elena bit her lower lip, choosing to remain silent. It was her mistake that had caused the water to drip onto Hazel’s face, but it was a minor mishap, hardly worth the fuss.
“Just endure for a few days. Just a few days,” Elena reminded herself, swallowing the retort that lingered on her lips. There were so many things she wanted to say, but there was no need to further upset Hazel.
“Carmen, bring another maid,” Hazel commanded.
“Yes,” Carmen replied obediently, leaving her stationary post in the corner of the bathroom.
Hazel scrutinized Elena’s hands, her gaze landing on the roughness and scars. “Why are your hands so rough? And what are those wounds?”
