Chapter 4

Violet expected everything to return to normal after she woke, but she found that nothing had changed.

“I must really have gone mad, ”she mumbled to herself.

Hayell suddenly appeared at her bedside.

“There’s a telegraph from Madam. Little Mistress has cut her hair. It looks great on her, and Madam wants you to tell her how beautiful she looks when you return. Madam takes such great care of the little mistress. Why does she hate to go to the parties so much, I wonder?”

“Ah...”

Violet laughed without zeal.

For the past three years, Winter had never joined her in one of Catherine's parties. He sometimes came to birthdays and things like that, but he only came to meet potential business contacts and was always occupied talking with other businessmen. That was why neither Hayell nor Winter knew of the cold stares of the crowd that were always directed at Violet.

Not that it made much of a difference. Even if Winter did know, he would have sided with the crowd, not with his wife. He’d reminded her multiple times of the investment he'd lost because of her.

The thought made her heart ache. It’d already been three years. Why did it still hurt? The hurting hadn't lessened even a tiny bit. She could not understand why. It had been anything but easy, dealing with the fact that the man she fell in love with at first sight continued to hate her just the same for three whole years, coming to terms with her mixed emotions of remorse, the thrill of first love, the pang of resentment.

Violet quietly spoke.

“I don’t care.”

“What?”

“I don't care what my wife does. I don’t give a damn.”

“Do as you like.”

That had always been Winter’s reply. That he didn't really care what she was up to or about what changes came upon her. Not in the slightest.

She heard the voice of a hotel employee outside.

“Sir, the Little Mistress is here.”

“What?”

Violet backed away involuntarily.

She didn't want to break from this dream, this fantasy. If she came face to face with her own body, she felt as though her hell would resume around her.

“Tell her I'm asleep.”

Hayell chided him.

“Still, you should at least ask her why she’s here.”

“You can ask her, can't you?”

Hayell seemed shocked at his disinterest. He backed out and headed towards the lobby.

He found it odd, the sight of the little mistress standing crooked with arms crossed. He asked politely,

“Little Mistress, what brings you here?”

“Where is my husband?”

“He is asleep. Everything we requested has been granted. He’ll sleep for a while, I think, now that the deal is over with.”

“The contract was signed? On our terms?”

She glared at him wildly. Hayell was taken aback.

“Yes. Is there a problem, Mistress?”

The two had boarded an elevator while they spoke. Hayell took out a key and placed it in the keyhole next to the door. When he twisted it to floor 12, the elevator began to move with a grinding noise.

Winter stretched out his hand.

“The contract.”

“We handed it over to the company staff already...”

Hayell wondered why she was asking these questions. He recalled that Winter had evinced his complete indifference towards his wife. Maybe his wife, in contrast, was trying to take more interest in her husband’s affairs.

Hayell cursed the icy Winter silently, got off at the 12th floor, and held the door open. Hayell saw the little mistress head straight towards Winter's usual suite room, even though he hadn't told her where it was. Hayell stood there looking at her forlornly, lost in thought; the little mistress proceeded to snatch the key from him, entered the suite, and locked the door behind her.

Winter found his own body staring back at him in shock next to the window.

“It’s you, Violet, isn't it?”

“Winter, wait-”

“I must say, I've never been so appalled in my life.”

Winter approached. The stink of cigars and alcohol made him grimace.

“What have you been doing in my body?” he asked her.

He gripped his body’s arm in irritation.

Both of them suddenly felt lightheaded and swayed on their feet.

When their heads cleared, Violet found Winter, and Winter found Violet, staring back. It had happened the moment they’d touched. They realized how it had happened.

“So it resets when we touch.”

“I guess so. We... have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know that myself. I have no clue...”

“You signed the contract. What do you mean, you don't know?”

“The contract?”

She’d thought he was asking her about the fact their bodies had been switched. Well, his priority was always money anyway, she supposed.

She’d thought they finally had something to talk about, but apparently what happened wasn't at all shocking to him. Violet tried to mask her hurt feelings, like she always did.

“I'm asking because the contract wasn’t supposed to go that well. How'd you beat that rake Lowell?”

“Aah,” Violet brightened at Winter's question. She seldom felt a sense of achievement in anything, but Winter's words had had a magical effect on her.

The Lawrence family byword was “Never boast.” She shook her head meekly.

“It was no big deal. That's beside the point. Do you know why this just happened?”

“No.”

“You’re an outlander.”

Winter had been looking himself over in the mirror with a satisfied look. He paused and turned towards her. Gray eyes were a symbol of poverty in Lacround. They were eyes of the outlanders that had immigrated here long ago, and most of them lived in indigence.

“You must think every outlander knows a spell or two,” Winter tutted, gazing down at her with eyes full of scorn. I've seen people like you. People with a polite veneer who still discriminate against the outlanders just the same.”

“I didn't mean it that way,” Violet said. “I know about my own family pretty well, and this has never happened before...You don’t know much about the Conic family yourself. That’s why I asked. I mean, what I want to say is—”

Winter cut her off as she began to ramble, “You know what, alright. Let’s just say I come from a long line of sorcerers.”

Violet found her body actually lifted off the ground. Winter had taken her up in his arms. He didn't even break a sweat. Violet balked.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I dragged your body over here,” he told her. “I know when a body's at its limit.”

“I can still stand!”

“No, you can't.”

Winter was firm. He laid her out on the bed. He removed her shoes and tossed them in the trash bin.

“You don't have a single pair of slippers?”

“I do,” she answered. “In my bedroom. And why are you throwing my shoes away—”

“Slippers for wearing outdoors, I mean.”

“Slippers for outdoor use?”

Violet's eyes went wide.

He didn’t seem to be listening. Having dragged her body around like a sack of potatoes, he seemed convinced that she couldn’t move a muscle in her body.

Winter placed a pillow behind her back. Still appearing dissatisfied, he pointed to her body.

“This body.”

“...What?”

“Your body. I nearly died dragging it all the way here. I could hardly walk.”

It was the determination to check on the contract, and that alone, that had given him the strength to haul that fatigue-laden body to the capital.

He hadn’t felt such pain even as a child, when he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. The headaches that poked and prodded at his brain had made him want to cut his own head off.

Violet understood what he meant. She'd been in Winter’s steely frame just moments ago, after all. But her body wasn't in its worst possible condition, not by a long stretch.

“I’m in good condition today, though,” Violet said. “Did you take medicine or something?”

“Rickman gave me some.”

“Really? I wonder what got into him...”

“I gave him some extra money.”

“Oh.”

Violet understood.

Winter brushed his curly hair back over his forehead with his hand. It had grown a tad too long.

“I’m taking a bath and going to work, so you stay in bed.”

“I've had enough sleep. It’s morning now.”

“What are you going to do with your body in such a state?”

Winter seemed completely fed up after being in Violet's body. He pushed her back into the bed when she tried to get up and pulled the covers up to her neck. He then spoke to Hayell, who’d been standing by outside.

“I'm going to wash up. Fetch a doctor. Buy one of those women’s outdoor slippers on your way back. We’ll head to the office as soon as I'm ready.”

“Yes, sir. You were amazing yesterday, you know! When did you study up on cigars? Lowell couldn’t get in a word edgewise!”

“The doctor.”

“Ah, yes! I’ll be off, then.”

Winter was back to his usual self. Maybe his strange etiquette exercise was over. Hayell, feeling relieved, dashed off to find a doctor.

He returned soon with a doctor, who immediately began to look Violet over. She was lost in thought.

It was only after she found herself back in her own body that she realized she wasn’t crazy after all, and that this was all real.

When the doctor finished inspecting her a hotel maid, Lulu, offered her hot tea.

“You did well, Little Mistress.”

“What did I do?”

“The medical inspection, that’s never easy!” Lulu sounded indignant. Violet was confused, but she nodded. The doctor spoke.

“You are in a terrible state. You’ve been taking medicine for your heart, it seems?”

“Yes.”

“Older drugs worsen the headaches, and are no longer used. I’ll prescribe some new medicine for you, so please try it. What kind of doctor prescribes this sort of medicine these days? Are you sure the person who prescribed them is a certified doctor?”

The doctor lay into the family doctor's reputation. It felt good to hear Rickman, who’d always dismissed her ailment as pretense, being proved wrong. And she especially appreciated learning that her headaches might improve.

The doctor left, and Violet made to get up. Lulu gasped.

“ Mr. Blooming told us to make sure you stayed in bed, Mistress.”

He must have described her as some kind of dying invalid. Violet was calm.

“Even so, I should move to a different room before the owner of this room returns,” she told the other woman.

“You’re a married couple. Why the distance?” Lulu made a face as if to say, There's royalty for you. She helped Violet up.

Violet moved to a room with cream-colored walls that made her feel at ease. It was much smaller than Winter's, but it was cozy and well-decorated. Violet liked it very much.

Lulu left for refreshments, and Winter's servant, Flip, knocked at the door.

Told to enter, Flip hung his head.

“I’m sorry, Little Mistress.”

“Sorry? For what?”

Flip replied, “I failed to do my duty, and didn't massage you properly. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to do a proper job this time.”

Flip, wanting to make up for his mistake earlier at the mansion, was holding a bowl of warm water. There were flower petals floating on the surface.

This had to be Winter’s doing. He really did whatever he wanted, Violet thought to herself.

She felt embarrassed, but she did want her feet massaged. So she didn't refuse.

It felt weird to have a man touch her feet, but no doubt Flip was simply doing his job. It was probably nothing to be embarrassed of.

Flip cautiously dipped her feet into the warm water.

“If it hurts or if the pressure's too weak, please say so. I’m used to doing this for Mr. Blooming only and I might not be able to get it right, Mistress.”

“Understood.”

Flip was a virtuoso with his hands. He pressed down softly on the tops of her feet and it already felt like her blood was circulating much better.

He pressured every inch of the foot bottoms and rubbed between the toes. After loosening her feet, he wiped them and applied rose oil on his hands. He massaged her feet all over again up to the malleolus and the ankle.

Flip seemed intensely focused on her feet, as if determined to defeat some opponent that had downed him last time. Thanks to this fact, Violet soon overcame her initial discomfiture. Her body soon felt so relaxed that she even nodded off a little.

Flip saw her drowsing off and quickly dried her feet before standing up. Violet collapsed into the bed and mumbled,

“I didn’t know it would feel this good. Thank you.”

Flip was accustomed to Winter, who never offered anything more than money for the services of those who worked for him. The sweet voice thanking him reminded him that he’d just been massaging the little mistress’ feet. He blushed.

“I-I’ll leave you, then. Please call me whenever you need.”

“Alright...” Violet replied with closed eyes.

She'd had so much to worry about, but today she felt like she could really sleep.