Chapter 8

Violet jumped. Fynn’s look she was all too used to receiving—one of deep contempt. The maid no longer looked like the woman she knew.

Despite the chills going down her spine, Violet told herself that Fynn was just angry. But even as the butler pulled her away forcefully, the maid continued to glare at her.

Soon, the only people left in the room were Violet and Aiden. The little girl broke down in tears, shocked by the sudden turn of events.

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry!” Aiden cried.

Violet thought about how Ethelmund had fired the maid. Fynn had helped her find some measure of comfort in this place, but now, the young noble lord had taken her away and told Violet she could do nothing to change her fate.

Aiden continued to try to comfort her, but to no avail. “This is horrible!” Violet wailed.

“Hey, hey! Damn it. Ugh, how could they leave me to clean up their mess?!” Aiden grumbled.

Violet, on the other hand, slumped to the ground. She didn’t care about anything anymore. According to what she had been taught, she should be carefully hiding her face with her hands and weeping quietly and elegantly, instead of openly breaking down. At the moment, however, she did not remember any of her training. She did not even care that the boy beside her was Aiden, someone she feared.

“This is horrible! Everything is horrible!” she cried.

Aiden watched anxiously, then finally took a determined breath and patted her on the back. “I-I’ll try to talk to Father, all right? So don’t cry. Please?”

Violet sniffled. “Really?”

When she looked up at him tearfully, he responded with an enthusiastic nod. It may have looked too eager, but in his defense, he was as desperate as she was. “Y-yes. Everything will be fine once I talk to Father!”

Violet sniffled pitifully, finding herself trusting him. As he thumped his chest proudly as if saying “Leave it to me,” her crying slowly quieted. Seeing the boy comfort her so kindly, albeit awkwardly, made her feel he was nicer than she had originally thought.

Unfortunately, a miracle did not happen. Fynn had disappeared from the mansion the next morning. Violet was instead greeted by an unfamiliar maid.

“Wake up, my lady,” the woman said, very gently.

Violet, never having imagined the title “my lady” to be meant for her, opened her eyes to find a woman who seemed to be about Rose’s age. She had black hair, a strong contrast to Fynn’s, and seemed to be only four or five years older than the former maid.

Confronted with the fact that Fynn had truly been sent away, Violet teared up. “Where’s Fynn?” she asked sorrowfully.

The new maid frowned and shook her head. “His Lordship was very angry. That woman will never be allowed to return. She left this morning.”

Sensing the negative connotations that accompanied the words “that woman,” Violet’s eyes grew even more teary. Still, the new maid smiled kindly. “I’m sure you’re going to like me, my lady,” she said, stroking Violet’s hair with a warm hand. “My name is Anne.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, my lady. A lady shouldn’t speak that way to her maid!”

“But you’re older than me. You’re a grown-up…”

Anne chuckled fondly, but the little girl did not notice. Her face fell as she thought of Fynn.

“Oh, are you still very disappointed?” Anne asked, to which Violet nodded. “Then how about this? I want us to be friends. Don’t you want that?”

Violet looked up at her with clear blue eyes.

Anne smiled kindly and continued, “Come, my dear Lady Violet. I’m sure we can be best friends.”

Violet nodded reflexively. She still felt anxious and scared. But while Anne’s kind words did not comfort her completely, they still resonated with her a little.

“But why do you call me ‘lady’ when I’m the saint?” Violet asked.

“Well, you’re also the marquess’s daughter. You’re both a lady and a saint. But while you’re a saint to everyone out there, inside these walls, you’re the only daughter we have. So I will think of you as a lady.”

It all sounded strange yet somewhat convincing, so Violet nodded. Despite the kindness of Anne’s words, she couldn’t help the tear that rolled down her cheek. She still couldn’t believe that Fynn had been sent away because of her.

Violet trembled and wept without a sound as Anne watched. The little girl was just relieved that the new maid did not sigh the way Fynn did whenever she cried.

“His Grace said you could rest today,” Anne informed her.

“Isn’t the viscountess coming?”

“That old— I mean, the viscountess won’t be coming again, due to some unforeseen circumstances. Countess Liesel offered to help you instead!”

A countess! Violet blanched. How could a countess be my tutor?

Commoners most often interacted with viscounts and barons, who were responsible for overseeing the higher-ranking nobles’ lands. Counts and those of even higher ranks were the ones who held real power, they possessed more extensive properties and private armies. Not many nobles could place themselves among the counts, marquesses, and dukes. Therefore, a countess for a tutor sounded terrifying to Violet.

“It’s all right. Countess Liesel is a very kind woman. She has a daughter around your age,” Anne told her.

“Yes, ma’am…”

“You don’t need to call me ma’am, my lady.”

“Oh, yes,” Violet said shyly.

Anne wanted to pinch Violet’s undeniably cute cheeks, but worried that she might damage the fragile child, she stopped herself short. When the little girl looked at her in surprise, Anne just smiled kindly, settling her face as if nothing had happened. Violet found the maid to be a little odd indeed.

“Don’t worry too much, my lady,” Anne said kindly. “Everything will work out in the end.”

Violet nodded, and the maid took her hand like a friend would. Though she still missed Fynn, she rather liked this new maid, who referred to her as a lady and acted like an older sister.

“Shall we take a walk around the mansion?” Anne suggested.

“Argh, aaaargh! It’s Anne!”

“I believe you’ve met that little— I mean, the young lord over there, Lord Aiden,” Anne said to Violet. “He’s eleven, and I suppose it will be a long time until he grows up. This is his room. As you know, he has quite the nasty mouth. Hopefully, the marquess and Lord Ed will be able to rein him in. Well, I suppose he has it coming, regardless of what I have to say.”

“Hey, you… You…” Aiden fumed at the maid before falling silent at seeing her smile.

He was standing in his doorway, still wearing his pajamas. He tried to find the words to express his anger, but he ended up mumbling unintelligibly. Anne merely smiled at him as she rattled off his age, personality, and other quirks as if she were a merchant describing a product. When Aiden tried to curse at her in response, she simply closed the door in his face.

The maid smiled at Violet and took her hand, leading her to the kitchen. Violet could smell something very sweet in the air.

“Jack, our cook, is also a great baker. He hasn’t been able to show off his skills since the marchioness passed away. He’s delighted to be finally making desserts again,” Anne explained.

She waved, and a man with a brown mustache waved back before jumping in surprise at the sight of the little girl.

“Oh, Your Holiness!” he shouted, trying to kneel with a frying pan still in his hand. Violet hastily stopped him.

Looking visibly flustered, Jack quickly passed the girl a box containing a small pie. Violet studied the sweet-smelling treat, eventually discerning that it was made of figs. “I was trying to figure out what fruits you’d like, and decided figs might be a good choice. I was planning to present these for your snack. What good timing!” the cook explained.

Figs were fairly common fruits since the trees could be found everywhere. With the fruit’s lumpy shape and subdued colors, nobles did not think highly of it. But hearing the name of the familiar ingredient made Violet smile. “Can I try it now?” she asked.

Though it was not proper to eat while standing in the kitchen, they were not about to tell her no. After all, not many could refuse Saint Violet.

Anne and Jack smiled warmly as she happily took a bite of the pie. No baker in the world would frown at the sight of a cute little girl digging into a treat with such delight. Moreover, this little girl smiling brightly before them was the very saint from the legends. While she was not as artfully composed as a little doll, her smile had the power to warm people’s hearts.

“It’s yummy,” Violet said.

While Jack was usually reserved, all signs of his quiet personality disappeared as he laughed heartily. He shouted to his staff that a souffle cheesecake be offered for dessert that evening, since the saint had already tasted the pie.

Violet nodded enthusiastically, causing Jack to smile fondly again before returning to his duties in the kitchen. Violet heard dramatic laughter as he shouted, “Finally, someone appreciates my cooking!”

After leaving the kitchen, Anne and Violet headed to the dining hall. Violet remembered it, as she had been there several times. Her face fell as she recalled the unpleasant events that had happened here.

“Once you learn the necessary etiquette, you’ll be able to join everyone else for breakfast,” Anne told her.

“I don’t want to.”

The maid’s eyes went wide at the rare adamant refusal.

“I’m going to continue eating alone,” Violet continued.

“His Lordship would be sad if you did so, my lady.”

“I’m a commoner, and I’m not his real daughter anyway.”

The maid’s face froze.

Violet knew she shouldn’t be saying all this, but she wasn’t going to back down. After all, the marquess was the one who ordered her to eat by herself.

Anne observed the usually meek girl as she staunchly refused to eat with the others. The maid could tell it was more out of avoidance of something unpleasant, rather than lashing out because she was not the marquess’s actual daughter.

“What’s wrong, my lady? Has Lord Aiden been bullying you?”

Violet shook her head.

“Then why?”

“I don’t want to see them, especially Lord Ethelmund.”

“Huh?” Anne seemed surprised by this unexpected response. “Why Lord Ed?”

Violet bit her lip, wondering if she had let her words slip. The maid, however, seemed genuinely curious.

Jobs were very important to commoners, yet Ethelmund had fired Fynn mercilessly despite Violet’s pleas. He’d then mocked the girl, saying that she was powerless to do anything about it. While Ethelmund’s manners might be better than most, he seemed the same as any other young lord in the end. He had shattered whatever hope Violet had for him.

However, Violet couldn’t bring herself to explain all of that, so she kept her mouth shut.

Still, she had shocked herself by what she had admitted. She glanced up at Anne nervously. The maid seemed to be trying to wrap her head around the situation.

“Lord Ethelmund? You should call him ‘Brother,’ my lady.”

“I don’t want to.”

This was the first time in Violet's life that she had passed such firm judgment toward another person. Normally, she never expressed any hostility toward others.

“Lord Ed is a nice person,” Anne said. “He might be a bit stern, but he’s not bad.”

“He’s not nice to me,” Violet said stubbornly.

Of course, she knew it wasn’t all Ethelmund’s fault. She resented everything else that surrounded the incident, too—the marquess agreeing to let Fynn go, Aiden being unable to stop him, and herself for being the source of all the trouble. Something nasty always seemed to happen whenever she ran into Ethelmund, however. His comment about how she was not ready for the dress had hurt more than anyone else’s criticisms.

Seeing the little girl’s stubbornness, Anne decided to give up on trying to persuade her otherwise. She also noted that Violet’s tone was more relaxed when she had to assert herself. “I’ll show you the marquess’s office,” she said, changing the topic.

The marquess owned a great deal of territory near the capital. When Violet asked about the extent of his land, Anne explained that the manor they were currently in had been given to the marquess by the king. The marquess’s actual property consisted of a few great cities and about ten villages. Violet could not fathom such a large amount of land.

Anne said that when the marquess was done with his work at the royal palace, he returned to the office in the manor to take care of affairs in his own territory. Fortuitous timing or not, he had just returned to the manor and was walking down the hallway in their direction.

The marquess, with his dark navy hair and blue eyes, immediately spotted Anne and Violet. “Your Holiness,” he greeted the little girl.

Frightened, Violet clamped her mouth shut before turning around and scampering away. It was an obvious rejection.

While her actions were improper, Violet knew the marquess wouldn’t punish her like other nobles might—or rather than estimating the marquess’s reaction, perhaps she was simply desperate to defy him at all costs.

She hated him for firing Fynn, her kind maid. She assumed that the viscountess had already informed him about the beating herself, so dismissing Fynn was his way to avoid being blamed. He’d probably ignored Aiden’s request as well. The man truly did as he pleased.

“My lady!” Anne called, chasing after her.

Violet stopped, wondering if she was going to scold her for being rude. But the maid merely stared at the little girl with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked. She was panting as she wiped sweat from Violet’s face.

Violet merely looked at the maid resentfully. This woman had come to replace Fynn. Violet should hold a grudge, but she couldn’t bring herself to get angry at such a kind person. She resorted to pouting instead.

“His Lordship must be quite shocked. Why did you run away?”

Violet was about to reply but stopped herself, realizing that she might cause trouble if she told the truth—that she hated not only Lord Ethelmund but also the marquess.

She was trying to figure out what she should say when a familiar voice called out to her. “Violet!”

She looked up to find Daniel descending the stairs. Even though they lived in the same mansion, she didn’t get to see him very often now that she did not join the family for meals. Violet tearfully leaped into his arms and wept.

Daniel comforted her as if he knew exactly what was wrong. “I’ll take Her Holiness to her room,” he said to Anne. “You can go.”

Anne bowed respectfully before leaving.

When they were alone, the boy hugged Violet tightly. “I’m sorry. I knew you were being punished, but I never imagined that you were being beaten,” he said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” the little girl replied.

Daniel looked truly sorry. “Does it hurt? Can you even walk? I mean, should you be walking around?”

Violet smiled. “They applied some ointment, so I’m fine.”

Daniel smiled in return. Violet felt her anxiety melt away.

“It must be tough to lose a maid so dear to you, Violet,” Daniel said. He seemed to be the only one to understand how Violet was feeling, even though she hadn’t said a word.

It suddenly occurred to the girl that she should ask him to bring Fynn back. If he requested it, perhaps the marquess would relent.

Daniel merely shook his head sadly at her request. Violet’s hopes were crushed again. “Father and Ethelmund are not men who easily take back their word. Ed especially is quite stubborn and unsympathetic.”

As harsh as his words were, Violet agreed.

Daniel stroked her hair and patted her on the back. “You can cry all you want when you’re with me. I’m on your side, Violet.”

She teared up again. She broke down crying as if his words were a magic spell.

“Poor Violet,” Daniel muttered.

His words made her even more sorrowful. Her situation truly was pitiful. The mansion was harsh and lonely, and Violet felt like she was all by herself, with nobody but Daniel to rely on.

Daniel stayed with Violet for a long time as she cried. When she finally looked at him through her tears, for some reason, he appeared to be smiling.