For a moment, we simply stared at one another, equally stunned.

"Hm? Why are you both looking at each other like that?" Ivy muttered. "I'm right here, you know-ow!" She slapped Taggart's arm when he leaned in too closely.

No one paid him any attention.

Flores, on the other hand, appeared quietly intrigued, as though she were observing an unexpected play unfold. I had no idea what conclusion she was drawing.

Ariana stood in her servant's uniform, her expression mirroring my own surprise. To her, this was likely nothing unusual. Servants were transferred often, sometimes even to the most undesirable posts.

The problem was not her.

It was me.

I was thinking far too deeply into this. In fact, I should march straight back to Madame Marsala and beg. There was no possible way I could work beside the very person who symbolized my future downfall.

If something were to stir again, and the young Duke's attention was drawn here, Ariana's presence would ensure his frequent visits. Or worse, he might storm into this garden one day, ready to slaughter anyone who dared upset his precious darling.

My head throbbed.

"Please tell me you're on good terms," Ivy sighed. "If you aren't, this will become troublesome."

Taggart finally managed to pry Ivy's hand from his face and hurried back to the fountain, frantically inspecting his reflection as though his beauty were under threat.

That ridiculous display eased the tension somewhat.

Ivy still watched us expectantly. Ariana was the first to respond. She shook her head gently and offered a faint smile.

"It's nothing like that, Sister Ivy," she said softly. "I was simply surprised to see her here. We worked on similar assignments before, but we never truly spoke."

Her voice was calm and unhurried, light as drifting clouds.

I clenched my jaw.

No wonder the young Duke was hopelessly devoted. She was like something carved from porcelain-delicate features, gentle manners, and a presence that stirred the instinct to protect.

I sighed.

There was no escaping it now. Working beside her was dangerous. In my first life, I had been executed simply because she dreamt of me once. I never even learned what that dream contained.

I had committed crimes far worse and survived them all, yet the moment it involved her, my life ended without question.

Who, truly, had designed me to be this foolish?

Still, there was nothing to be done. She was my colleague now. All I could do was avoid her as much as possible.

"That is enough conversation," Flores announced. "Return to your duties. The head lady will arrive shortly."

I exhaled in relief and moved away with the others. At the mention of the head lady, everyone scattered back to work.

Ariana gave me a small nod before turning away. Only then did I notice the wooden bucket of water she carried.

"Wait," Flores said, extending an arm to stop her. She turned to me instead. "You will be responsible for fetching water from now on."

What?

Just that?

That was almost merciful. It meant I wouldn't have to linger here trimming or pruning flowers. As much as I admired the scenery, one wrong cut in front of the head lady could cost a life.

I nodded quickly and reached for the bucket, but Ariana stepped back.

I looked up, surprised. She shook her head, clearly unwilling, and turned to Flores.

"Why should my task change so suddenly?" she asked quietly. "This was assigned to me by the head lady herself."

I blinked.

Flores' gaze hardened. "That was before. She is the newcomer and requires simpler duties until she adapts."

She gestured sharply. "Hand her the bucket. No more questions."

Ariana hesitated, her eyes filled with stubborn resolve. "But... I also just-"

"Give her the bucket, Ariana."

"It's fine," I said quickly, stepping between them. Ariana's eyes were already glistening, as though we had wronged her terribly.

I smiled awkwardly at Flores. "I can handle other tasks. I learn quickly, I'm-"

"It is precisely because it is your first day," Flores interrupted coolly. "Until you understand the nature of these flowers, I will not risk you damaging them."

So she had read my thoughts.

"And I will not tolerate disobedience," she continued. "I am the lead servant here, and I have authority. Feigned fragility will not move me."

Flores' glare made Ariana retreat instinctively. In her haste, the bucket slipped from her hands.

Water splashed across the ground, soaking my shoes, stockings, and the hem of my gown.

I froze.

Ariana gasped and bowed repeatedly. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll fetch something to clean it at once!"

She ran off before I could respond.

I stared after her, exasperated. Why was she so clumsy?

This only strengthened my resolve to keep my distance. People like her invited misunderstandings.

Flores rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

I stood there uncertain, still without a proper task.

Eventually, Ivy approached and suggested I fetch another bucket of water, since the first had been wasted.

I carried the pail toward the well at the rear of the mansion, where maids gathered to wash garments. The area was wide, bordered by a small stream. Girls laughed and gossiped as they scrubbed linens.

I felt several sharp gazes land on me. Old grudges, it seemed, had not faded.

At least no one approached.

That thought ended quickly.

"Hey!"

A soaked garment struck my back as I bent to draw water. My face twisted in annoyance. I snatched it up and flung it back without hesitation.

It slapped squarely into the girl's face.

She screamed, clawing it away. "Are you insane?!"

"You're the one without manners," I snapped. "Did your mother forget to teach you any before abandoning you?"

"You-how dare you!"

Three girls stood behind her, while others gathered eagerly, hungry for spectacle.

I scoffed and turned back to the well.

Another wet cloth struck me.

That was it.

I released the rope and lifted my empty bucket, brandishing it. Gasps rang out as the crowd scattered, though my aim was only toward the girls.

"Oh my goodness!"

"Is she mad?!"

I snorted. If they wanted trouble, they would get it.

The leader glared at me, her face twisted with fury. I didn't even know her name.

"You think you're tough?"

"Try me."

They hesitated.

"Girls, let's teach her a lesson," one sneered. "She bullied our precious Ariana."

I pointed at myself. "Me? When did I ever bully her? I haven't even spoken to her properly. Are you determined to embarrass yourselves?"

"She was crying earlier!"

"Yes! Her eyes were red!"

"She's the kindest among us!"

"And now you think you can bully people because you work under the head lady! You were thrown out of the mansion weeks ago!"

"Fallen swamp rat!"

The moment the girl finished hurling her insult at me, my hand moved before my thoughts could catch up.

The sharp sound of skin meeting skin echoed.

"How does it feel," I snapped, "to be struck by a so-called fallen swamp rat?"

She gasped, clutching her instantly reddening cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. The others froze, staring as though they'd just witnessed something scandalous beyond repair.

"You-"

I spat at the ground near their feet, and they all recoiled at once. 

"You truly are foolish," I said coldly. "Far more foolish than I ever imagined. You should have your wits examined."

The girl I had slapped screamed in fury and lunged toward me. I reacted on instinct, twisting and planting my foot squarely against her midsection. 

She flew backward, landing hard on her lap before tumbling to the ground.

"Ah-!"

She groaned as the others rushed to her side.

"Jasmine! Are you all right?"

"-Clare! You've gone too far!"

Oh? They even knew my name. How considerate.

"Too far?" I scoffed. "I've barely begun. You started this. And now that I defend myself, I'm the villain? Should I have stood still and let you beat me senseless? Go on then-try it!"

I rolled my shoulders and stepped forward. "I'll start with you three. You've been irritating me for a while now-"

Before the last word left my mouth, I charged.

It was one against three, and they were clearly ready this time.

To be honest, I knew my chances of winning were slim-but if I was going down, I certainly wasn't going alone.

What followed was less a refined altercation and more a ridiculous scuffle. 

Someone grabbed my sleeve and I retaliated by tugging her braid; another attempted a slap only to miss and spin halfway around. 

Shoes scraped-skirts tangled, and at some point someone shrieked about torn stockings. 

I found myself tripping over a hem, collided with a shoulder, and we all went down in a heap before scrambling back up like disgruntled alley cats.

There was no elegance in it-only flailing arms, poorly aimed kicks, and a great deal of indignant shouting.

In the end, I took more hits than I'd like to admit. Still, they didn't look much better than I did. Each of us bore swelling bruises on our faces; mine throbbed, but theirs were far more pronounced.

Our uniforms were a disaster-wrinkled, stretched, and half-torn, fit only for mending or replacement. 

And my shoes? 

My shoes had gone flying long ago, and the neat buns we'd once worn were now loose and wild, our hair spilling everywhere like a ruined bird's nest.

Just then a thunderous voice cut through the chaos.

"HOW AUDACIOUS!!!"

Oh no.