What Remains in the Damaged Place - Chapter 39

Camille’s feelings for Valderion had only grown stronger, their roots deepening with every passing day of their engagement. From that fateful night on the balcony, a desire had taken hold within her—one that she couldn’t quell, no matter how much she tried to calm her heart.

Her attraction to him wasn’t just about physical allure. It was the effortless way he carried himself, the intoxicating mix of power and detachment that surrounded him. She was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. And once he had disappeared from her view that night, she felt an emptiness, a longing that persisted.

This desire became more pronounced over time, evolving into something close to obsession. She wanted him—his presence, his demeanor, and the quiet confidence he embodied. It wasn’t just about being near him as his fiancée; Camille wanted to possess that calm, that power, for herself. She wanted to be the one person who could break through the veil of aloofness that surrounded him.

As the months passed, she had worked tirelessly to secure her position by his side, solidifying their engagement. With her family’s influence and their social standing, it wasn’t difficult to arrange. And given how most noble engagements led directly to marriage, Camille hadn’t worried.

But now, that certainty was beginning to unravel.

The rumors.
The mistress.

Camille couldn’t let it go. The idea that some nameless maid had crept into Valderion’s life, and possibly even his heart, was intolerable. She had spent two years believing their union was inevitable, but now, with this unexpected variable, everything was at risk.

She knew Valderion. He was meticulous, controlled, and ruled by logic. But even the most calculating of people could be swayed by passion—something unpredictable, something volatile.

Camille stood up from her seat and rang the small bell near her table.

“Yes, my lady?” the butler asked, entering the room with a slight bow.

“I need to write a letter,” she said firmly. “Send word to the Duke of Justitia’s estate that I will be visiting soon.”

I won’t just sit back and do nothing, Camille thought to herself, her resolve hardening. She needed to act quickly.

***

The morning routine was in full swing.

Lirette found herself adjusting to the rhythm of waking early, and while it wasn’t easy, it wasn’t as exhausting as it had been at first. The relative peace of the past few days had allowed her to regain a sense of balance, a reprieve from the constant tension she had lived with for so long.

At the morning gathering, the head maid’s announcement caught everyone’s attention.

“We’ll be receiving a special guest today. Make sure you’re all prepared,” she said, before dismissing the group.

As the maids dispersed to their tasks, murmurs of curiosity spread among them.

“Who do you think the guest is?”

“I wonder,” one of them responded, her face alight with anticipation.

Some of the younger maids were visibly excited at the prospect of a visitor, especially if it meant the chance to catch a glimpse of a young nobleman. They still talked about the last time a handsome young count had visited the estate, and some secretly hoped for another such encounter today.

“Hardy, weren’t you assigned to attend the guest today?” one of the maids asked.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Hardy replied.

“Make sure to tell us all about it later,” they teased before scattering to their duties.

Lirette’s day passed uneventfully, much like any other. She carried out her tasks—delivering tea to the parlor and attending to the various cleaning assignments the head maid had set for her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of an opportunity to slip away to the library, as her schedule was tight.

By the time she finished her chores in the guest bedroom, the sun was high in the sky, and a pleasant breeze drifted through the open windows. After smoothing the last of the bedsheets and adjusting the curtains, Lirette stepped into the hallway.

“Brilline!”

A familiar voice called out in a hurried tone. Lirette turned to see Hardy rushing toward her, her expression frantic and far different from the casual demeanor she had shown during the morning assembly.

“What’s wrong?” Lirette asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

“C-Can you cover for me?” Hardy stammered, clearly flustered. “Just for a little while.”

“What’s going on?”

“Something urgent came up at home, so I think I have to step out immediately. I’m on my way to ask the head maid for permission, but I also need to find someone to cover my shift…!”

Her desperate voice was tinged with damp urgency.

If it’s something at home…

I remember hearing that her mother had been seriously ill. Seeing her face so pale, could it be something related to that?

Lirette, now serious as well, asked, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s about attending to a guest. The head maid said they were arriving at 4, but they got here earlier than expected and are in the reception room now…”

“Got it. I’ll take care of it, so go quickly.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Hadi, bowing repeatedly in gratitude, dashed off without looking back.

I hope nothing bad has happened.

Lirette thought to herself as she headed to the kitchen.

She hesitated briefly, as it was her first time handling guest service. But she figured it wouldn’t be too different from what she prepared for Valderion every morning, and swiftly got to work.

Her reflection caught in the smooth glass of the display case. The cheek she’d kept covered with cloth for the past few days was now clear. She was relieved that the wound had healed before today.

Lirette prepared a mild tea that would suit most tastes and headed for the reception room.

“Excuse me…”

As she was opening the door and stepping inside, she began to speak but stopped upon seeing the guest’s profile.

The side of the woman’s face, gazing out the window, seemed oddly familiar.

More clues revealed themselves one by one.

The woman, seated comfortably on the large sofa, wore an opulent dress, lace gloves delicately covering her hands, and dazzling jewelry that adorned her body.

She resembled the gladiolus flowers arranged in a vase nearby, decorating one corner of the reception room.

‘It’s the lady from the Floyden family.’

She was the subject of conversations the maids had once discussed in passing.

‘Was this the guest expected today?’

Although Lirette had no direct information about the visitor, she had assumed, due to her colleagues’ gossip, that it might be a man.

Snapping back to reality, Lirette continued her greeting.

“Excuse me.”

The woman turned her head at the sound of Lirette’s voice.

Lirette set the tray down on the small table and calmly poured the tea.

All the while, a cold sweat trickled down her back. The woman’s gaze, fixed intently on her, was impossible to ignore.

Her scrutinizing eyes seemed to rate Lirette’s every move, making her hands tremble slightly. She worked hard to keep it from showing as she carefully served the tea.

What added to her unease were the rumors circulating in the mansion.

Even if they weren’t true, the rumors portrayed Lirette as Valderion’s mistress, someone who freely visited his chambers each night.

Facing his fiancée now, knowing those rumors, made her feel unsettled.

“I’ve prepared black tea. If it doesn’t suit your taste, please feel free to let me know.”

After the brief explanation, Lirette cautiously stepped back.

If Valderion had already arrived to greet the guest, she would have excused herself. But the master’s seat remained empty. The original appointment had been for 4 p.m., and the Lady of Floyden had arrived an hour early.

Watching from the side, Lirette knew Valderion’s schedule was packed to the minute. This gap was likely because he couldn’t adjust his schedule so suddenly. As it was her job to attend to guests, she would have to ensure the lady remained in good spirits until his arrival.

The lady, Camille, took a sip of the prepared tea.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t to my liking.”

“…”

“Could you prepare something else?”

Recognizing that she was dealing with someone with a more refined palate, Lirette quietly cleared the items and returned to the kitchen. After preparing another tea, she brought it out and served it just as calmly as before.

At that moment, Lirette still didn’t think much of it.

“This one isn’t good either.”

“…”

“The water seems too cool. It’s so lukewarm, it doesn’t even feel like I’m drinking tea.”

Lirette tried a different tea again, carefully adjusting the water temperature this time.

Camille raised the cup to her lips and immediately frowned.

“My goodness. This one’s too hot! What if it burned my tongue?”

“I apologize.”

“The tea will be fine now.”

Pushing the cup away as if she was repulsed, Camille extended her fan toward Lirette.

“It’s hotter than I expected today. Could you stand over there and hold this?”

“Pardon? Oh, yes.”

Following the instruction, Lirette took the fan and stood by as the lady waved her hand lazily.

It wasn’t until a moment later that Lirette realized the gesture had been a command for her to fan the lady.

Lirette unfolded the fan and began fanning Camille.

The lady’s neatly arranged golden hair swayed softly in the breeze.

Is this really part of attending to a guest?

Looking at Camille lounging comfortably, Lirette couldn’t help but question the situation ever so slightly.