“You are assigned to deliver snacks to the young Duke,” Marsala said.

She was the assistant head maid of the Westwond household, an older woman whose presence alone demanded discipline. Though her age showed in subtle lines, her posture remained firm and authoritative.

Her attire never varied. A black gown tailored in formal elegance, trimmed with lace arranged into neat patterns. Black gloves covered her hands, and her hair was always secured in a flawless bun.

I blinked at her, caught off guard.

Since when had I been chosen to serve the Duke during his tutoring sessions?

Still, I did not question the order. I bowed as expected.

“Elwyn will bring you the tray shortly,” Marsala continued. “Deliver it properly. Do not make mistakes. You know the rules.”

“Yes, Madame Marsala.”

She gave a brief nod and left.

The moment she was gone, attention shifted toward me. Servants around my age stared openly, some with envy, others with thinly veiled hostility.

I rubbed my ear, confused.

Even now, after all I had lived through, I still did not understand what I had done to earn such looks.

But that concern faded quickly.

Why was I chosen for this task?

I had believed I was finally free from these unwanted encounters with the young Duke. That I would not see him again, nor burden him with my presence.

More than that—

Should this not have been her role?

Not far from me stood a girl carefully washing dishes atop a small stool.

Her brown hair was neatly tied, her features gentle and refined. There was something porcelain-like about her, the kind of beauty one might find among noble toys kept behind glass.

She was one of the few servants who remained quiet and sincere, untouched by the competitiveness that poisoned the rest.

I exhaled slowly.

Now I understood.

Now I truly understood why the Duke had grown so obsessively attached to her, to the point of treating devotion as possession.

The thought unsettled me.

To think I had once chased the affection of a man who confused cruelty with love.

A tray was suddenly placed before me.

“Take it and go,” someone urged. “Do not keep the Duke waiting.”

I nearly pointed at myself in disbelief. How was I responsible for delay when I had only just received the tray?

Still, I accepted it silently and left the kitchen, moving into the main corridor.

The mansion stretched endlessly, floor after floor layered with quiet grandeur. The tutoring chamber was situated above, requiring a climb that felt longer than usual.

Along the stairs, a guard passed me and offered a brief nod. I returned it with a small smile, ignoring the faint sound he made as I went by.

When I reached the upper floor, I stopped.

The tray was wide but manageable. I had carried heavier loads before.

That was not the issue.

Why did this unease linger?

I thought I had overcome it. That everything I once felt had long since burned away.

I knew my affection for the Duke was gone, replaced by something closer to resentment.

And yet, something faint still stirred beneath the surface.

I needed to rid myself of it before it caused trouble.

“What are you doing standing there? Deliver the snacks.”

The sharp voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up at a guard approaching, who paused when he saw me.

“Clare?”

I raised a brow.

Did he know me?

“I—do I—”

“There is no time,” he interrupted. “Serve the Duke first. We will speak later.”

I nodded, unsettled.

It seemed I was more familiar to people than I realized.

With a quiet breath, I stepped forward as the door was opened.

The room beyond was expansive, lined with shelves filled to capacity. Books stretched across the walls in ordered rows.

I had never been here before. Not once in any of my past lives.

I had never been assigned here. I had always sought him out instead.

For a moment, I nearly forgot myself at the sight of so many books. The temptation to linger was strong.

But I composed myself and focused on the figures seated inside.

The young Duke sat at a long table, writing intently. Across from him sat his tutor, observing patiently.

“Greetings, young Duke. Greetings, sir,” I said respectfully. “I was instructed to deliver refreshments. Forgive the interruption.”

The tutor looked up and smiled warmly. The Duke did not react, remaining focused on his work.

I had never felt more relieved.

“You may place it there,” the tutor said, gesturing toward a nearby stand.

I complied.

As I stepped closer, my heart beat harder than I liked. Once the tray was settled, I bowed and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

My pulse surged.

What now?

I steadied myself and turned back. The Duke still had not lifted his gaze.

“Did you include the berry buttered cake prepared by that maid?”

My brow lifted.

Berry buttered cake?

Then realization struck.

It was her specialty. Ariana’s.

She was the only one who could make it to his satisfaction. Since discovering it, he had demanded it regularly.

In another life, I had tried to replicate it. I had even dared to substitute my own version.

He noticed immediately.

Every servant involved was punished.

I swallowed.

The tray did not contain it.

Why did they despise me so much?

“There is no cake,” I said quietly. “I apologize, young Duke.”

Silence followed.

His face revealed nothing.

Then he looked up.

I nearly froze.

“You were not instructed to bring it?”

Why ask when the answer was clear?

“No, young Duke. I only delivered what was prepared. I apologize for the oversight.”

“Then take it away,” he said calmly. “Albert.”

The same guard from earlier entered at once.

“Escort her for punishment.”

I nodded and turned to leave.

Then his voice came again.

“You are dismissed from serving me. Do not appear before me again.”

I stopped.

Then smiled.

Relief washed through me, light and undeniable.

What fortune was this?

I bowed quickly. “Yes, young Duke.”

My voice carried more enthusiasm than intended. The room fell silent.

I corrected myself at once. “Yes, young Duke.”

I left, barely containing my joy. At the corridor’s end, I gave a small hop.

“That was easier than expected,” I muttered.

The guard stared at me.

“You…”

“Come on,” I said lightly. “Let us see what punishment awaits.”

He studied me oddly. “You seem happy.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he laughed. “You have not changed.”

“Do I know you?” I asked honestly.

He looked stunned.

“You truly do not remember?”

“I am sorry,” I said awkwardly. “I do not.”

He sighed. “You always forget things.”

“Hey—”

“My name is Albert,” he continued. “We used to play together as children. Until my family left the estate.”

I blinked.

That was all?

“I was very young,” I protested. “There is no fairness in that.”

He laughed.

I stared at him, bewildered.

“You really are amusing,” he said.

“I did not say anything amusing.”

“Another time,” he said, guiding me forward. “Let us handle your punishment. I will be kind.”

My eyes stung unexpectedly.

Together, we descended toward the kitchens to face Madame Marsala.

A sneak peek for y'all 👇🏻

You can check me out on patreon.

I update early over there. 

Patreon/Angelostories 🫶🏻