Rafaell straightened up, observing the mess on the floor and Cielle's uncomfortable expression. He sighed lightly, a gesture that seemed to carry more understanding than reprimand.

"Why are you apologizing?" Rafaell questioned, his voice tinged with surprise as he moved swiftly in search of a cleaning cloth.

"It's just that I..." Cielle began to speak, hesitantly, but stopped herself when she saw Rafaell starting to clean up the spilled milk. "No, please, let me help," she hurried, moving towards him in an attempt to stop him. Rafaell looked at her, confusion crossing his eyes.

"Don’t worry about it," Rafaell replied with a reassuring lightness in his voice. "Accidents happen, but it's better we clean this up before Stewart sees. He tends to dramatize when I’m responsible, but I doubt he would do the same with you. I’m just being cautious."

As he cleaned, an inadvertent smile appeared on Rafaell’s face, softening his features. Cielle, watching him, felt a wave of emotion mixed with a tinge of guilt.

"I'm sorry, you’re here because of me, working beyond what’s necessary. And on top of that, risking a reprimand," Cielle expressed, her voice laden with remorse.

Rafaell shrugged with casual lightness. "Stewart always finds reasons to scold me, I’m used to it." He stood up and moved the cloth aside, looking at the still-stained floor. "Look, it's not perfect, but cleanliness isn't exactly my thing."

Cielle watched him under the soft lighting coming from outside, noting the contour of his face and the way his hair fell slightly over his eyes.

"Do you work in the garden?" Cielle asked, an innocent curiosity in her voice.

Rafaell blinked, clearly not expecting that question. “What?”

"Or maybe, are you the driver for the master of this house?" Cielle continued, still oblivious to Rafaell's shock.

"Driver... for the master of this house?"

"Yes, Rafaell Valentinov," she said, referring to the owner of the house.

Rafaell was silent, stunned by the assumption. 'Does she really think I'm an employee, even dressed in these clothes?'

“I haven’t met him yet, nor do I know what he looks like,” Cielle confessed, lowering her gaze to the floor. Rafaell watched her, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes.

"You don't need to hide or be afraid," Rafaell suddenly said. Cielle lifted her gaze. “If you are his fiancée, this house is also yours. So, you can do what you want and eat what you like.”

The young woman listened to this under Rafaell’s sharp gaze and felt her face blush. Then, Cielle’s stomach growled again. This drew a genuine laugh from him.

“It seems bread and milk weren’t enough. Sit down, I'll get you something more to eat.”

“But you'll be working more…”

“Shh!” Rafaell put his finger to his mouth. “You’ll wake someone up. Just sit down.”

Cielle hesitated for a moment but sat down at the table, watching the young man move around. "I... I'm sorry about the mess," she murmured, looking at the floor. "I didn't mean to wake anyone or cause trouble."

Rafaell prepared a sandwich with cheese, cornbread, and dried meat from dinner, not making a big deal of the situation. "Don’t worry about it. Everyone here is used to odd hours, including myself."

“All the employees here are so kind. I didn’t expect that,” she confessed softly.

Rafaell tried to react naturally to this.

“Yes, we are. It’s all because of the master, actually. He asked us to take very good care of you.”

Cielle was surprised.

“He asked for that?”

The young man placed the sandwich in front of Cielle, who appeared quite impressed. He also helped himself to half of the sandwich.

“Why the surprise? Did you hear something unfavorable about the master?” Rafaell inquired, positioning the sandwich in front of Cielle. He also served himself the other half, eating in a relaxed manner, conveying a sense of comfort to Cielle, who found herself in a warm and friendly environment for the first time.

“It’s not that I’ve heard something terrible…” Cielle recalled her cousin's sharp comment. “It's just that I only heard about him yesterday.”

Rafaell stopped chewing suddenly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What to think of someone who buys a family’s debts and, in return, proposes marriage without even knowing the person?”

Rafaell swallowed hard, processing this.

“But you accepted the proposal.”

Cielle lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

“I barely had time to think. As I said, I only found out about everything yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” Rafaell raised his voice, surprised. “The proposal was made more than a month ago!”

Cielle blinked, confused.

“Well, I found out because… the employees were talking about it.”

She adopted a melancholic expression.

“So, that was it? They probably knew for some time. Maybe they were just waiting for the confirmation of the dowry…” she murmured, more to herself. Rafaell watched her attentively. “I still wonder why he didn’t approach me directly.”

“Maybe he tried,” Rafaell responded, his voice laden with self-defense. “Maybe he couldn’t talk to you.”

Cielle pondered this.

“Indeed, besides school, I rarely left home.”

Rafaell suppressed his frustration. ‘How could they have deceived me like this?’

“Still…” Cielle chewed a piece of the sandwich and swallowed. “Such a proposal shouldn’t be made this way. Don’t you think?”

Rafaell hesitated, surprised by her frankness. He answered cautiously.

“But wasn’t it a favorable proposal? Marriage in exchange for the forgiveness of debts?”

“A marriage should be based on love, on building a family,” said Cielle, and Rafaell realized he hadn’t expected this response. “I had a plan... a seven-year plan.”

She continued eating, savoring the sandwich. ‘A plan, huh?’ he thought.

“So, if you found out yesterday, why did you come here so quickly?” Rafaell asked, his curiosity revealing more about himself than Cielle might realize.

“Because...” she began. “I had nowhere else to go. And even though it was rude, the proposal of this stranger was the most generous gesture I had ever received. I could only accept. And be grateful.”

“Is that why you asked to talk to him? To thank him?”

Cielle hesitated. Her eyes were on the beautiful hands of the young man.

“How do you know I asked to talk to him?” she asked, lifting her gaze.

“Ahh, it’s because... Well, Stewart mentioned it here in the kitchen.”

“I did?” Stewart’s voice, emerging unexpectedly, made them both jump in surprise.

Rafaell promptly stood up, anticipating any comment from Stewart that might reveal his true identity.

"Stewart, what are you doing awake at this hour?" Rafaell asked with a slightly exaggerated tone.

Stewart blinked, surprised by Rafaell's act.

"I usually sleep late and wake up early. But, sir..." Stewart began to speak, but was abruptly interrupted.

"The lady was hungry!" Rafaell interjected quickly, while Cielle nodded timidly at Stewart. "And since there was no one from the kitchen, I offered to help... Despite my work being... in the garden." Rafaell completed the sentence with visible effort.

Stewart observed the scene, trying to comprehend the young master's exaggerated grimaces.

"Ah, of course. You work in the garden. You shouldn’t be here in the kitchen," Stewart said, though it sounded somewhat forced.

Cielle looked back and forth between the two.

"It seems the garden boy has made quite a mess here," Stewart said, taking advantage of the situation. Rafaell suppressed an expression of displeasure at the nickname.

"It was my fault, please don’t scold him," Cielle stood up, trying to intervene. Rafaell crossed his arms, shooting suggestive looks at Stewart.

"Actually, miss, the responsibility is mine. I should have anticipated that you would be hungry. Fortunately, one of our employees was here to help," Stewart joked again.

"Well, I think I can leave. There’s nothing more for me here," Rafaell said, quickly exiting the kitchen.

"Thank you very much for helping me," Cielle called out.

"It was nothing," Rafaell replied, without turning around, and left.

Stewart turned to Cielle.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

Cielle was about to say no, but then hesitated:

"Actually, what is his name?"

Stewart’s thin mustache arched in surprise.

"Ah, his name... Well, his name is Jasper," Stewart replied, technically not lying.

"Jasper... I see," Cielle nodded, thoughtful.

As Rafaell ascended the stairs, his face overflowed with fury. The young and innocent face now expressed mature indignation.

"They not only deceived me but also practically set a trap for her," he murmured to himself. "I must hurry and cut ties with that family immediately.”