What Remains in the Damaged Place - Chapter 69
“Brilline.”
Lirette looked up from wiping the condensation off a teacup with a dry cloth. The head maid was standing there, holding a large silver tray.
“Take this to the master’s office.”
Lirette glanced at the food on the tray with an indifferent expression.
“You take it yourself. Understood?”
It was a clear reminder that the head maid knew how often she had passed off tasks to others. Lirette accepted the tray with a reluctant expression.
The head maid’s stern gaze stayed on her, making it clear she was being watched this time. The message was clear: no shirking this duty.
It had been a week since the day the torrential rain had poured down suddenly, just like time itself, which had slipped by meaninglessly.
During that week, Lirette had done her best to avoid Valderion.
She had handed off her morning tea duties to other servants, faking illness when needed, and had locked herself away in her basement room, avoiding the nightly encounters she once couldn’t escape. Valderion hadn’t forced her to come to him either, his pride likely wounded from their last exchange, just as hers had been.
But two days ago, new instructions had come down specifically for her—to bring food to Valderion’s study.
Lirette knew this was his way of pulling her back into his orbit.
However, like the tea duties, she had also passed off this task to others, hiding away and cleaning in quiet corners to avoid suspicion from the head maid.
But it seemed Valderion’s patience had lasted only four days.
Now, with the head maid keeping a close watch on her, he had effectively cornered her.
Lirette walked down the corridor with heavy steps.
***
In his office, Valderion turned the letter in his fingers, looking at it from both sides.
The edges were lined with golden embossing, its intricate details catching the light and irritating his eyes with its opulence. He tossed it onto the desk as if its weight was already too much to bear.
The letter, soft and luxurious in his hand, bore more gold than necessary. It was a personal message from the imperial palace—specifically, from Dylan.
Valderion hadn’t bothered to open it.
He knew from experience that anything Dylan sent without warning was rarely important or pleasant. His letters usually carried absurd demands, like ordering him to participate in an impromptu hunting competition.
Valderion had grown tired of constantly cleaning up after the animalistic crown prince.
Of course, he couldn’t shirk this responsibility—it was at the core of what Justitia stood for.
But he needed a break, even just a moment to breathe.
He would have to deal with it eventually, but he hoped to do so when his mind was clearer. And right now, it was far from that.
The uneasy remnants of his last conversation with Lirette still lingered like dust in his thoughts. However, according to his sources inside the palace, there were no signs of anything suspicious happening with Dylan. It was likely just another one of the prince’s erratic moods, nothing more.
Still, even if Dylan was planning something, it didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.
Knock, knock.
The sound of a knock interrupted his thoughts. Valderion set the letter aside and gave permission for the visitor to enter.
Lirette stepped in, her expression as cold and distant as he expected. She clearly didn’t want to be there, and her reluctance was written all over her face.
She offered a formal greeting and approached the small table beside his desk, placing the silver tray down.
Valderion watched her every movement closely, his chin resting on his hand.
“I’ll leave this here,” she said.
“Why did you bring it?” he asked, his tone flat.
“…What?”
“You know I can’t eat anything right now.”
With a casual gesture, Valderion ran his fingers over his lower lip.
“Thanks to someone mangling my tongue, I’m still in pain.”
Lirette’s face showed a flicker of disbelief as she stared at him, but she quickly turned her head away.
“I’m just doing what I was instructed to do.”
She opened the stainless steel lid, revealing the food inside, and placed it neatly on the table before stepping back.
“Where are you going?” he asked, noticing her quick retreat.
“I’ve finished my task, so I’ll be leaving now.”
“Finished?” Valderion scoffed, raising one eyebrow mockingly. He pointed to the food.
“You need to take the dishes back later.”
“I’ll come back for them later.”
“No, wait here.”
It seemed that his usual mischievous streak had returned, reignited by their previous confrontation.
“Wait, over there.”
He left her no escape, even pointing out the exact place she should sit. Lirette glanced at the sofa he indicated, then back at him. Before she could protest, Valderion had already buried his head in his paperwork again.
His stern demeanor left no room for argument. If she attempted to speak up, he’d likely snap at her, or worse, irritate her in some other, more insidious way. Reluctantly, Lirette made her way to the sofa.
Just wait until he eats, and then I’ll take the tray and leave… She repeated this in her head several times, trying to convince herself it wouldn’t be difficult.
But, unfortunately, things didn’t go as she had hoped.
No matter how long she waited, Valderion showed no sign of touching the food.
At first, she sat patiently, but as time passed, she began to feel a sense of stubbornness rise within her. Perhaps he was dragging this out on purpose, waiting for her to lose patience and speak first. Maybe he was testing how long she could endure in silence.
Determined not to give him that satisfaction, Lirette stared out of the window instead, focusing on the changing scenery.
The estate, once blanketed by pristine white snow in winter, had now gone through several transformations. Autumn had arrived, and with it came the realization that the promised one-year mark was fast approaching.
Come to think of it… She suddenly thought of Segen.
It had been a while since she’d last encountered him.
There had been a time when she crossed paths with him in the garden. She’d considered greeting him, but Segen had quickly walked away as if he hadn’t even seen her. At first, she thought it was just a coincidence, but after several similar instances, she realized he was intentionally avoiding her.
Eventually, she stopped acknowledging him too.
Although it initially bothered her, she found some relief in the distance. Given everything that had happened with Hadi, it seemed better to let this relationship fade naturally. The last thing she wanted was to get attached again, only to be cast aside.
As she watched the warm autumn light filtering through the trees, her eyelids grew heavy. The restless nights she’d endured over the past few days finally caught up with her.
I shouldn’t fall asleep…
Despite her best efforts, Lirette couldn’t fight the sleepiness. The atmosphere inside the mansion was cozy, warmed just enough to protect against the cooling weather.
But it wasn’t just the physical warmth that was lulling her to sleep. It was something more fundamental.
Whenever she was near him, she felt the pulse of the Naeme mark on her back, like a fish’s gills taking in water.
Ah.
It dawned on her—this might be the effect of the Name. Just as her body became sluggish without his touch, perhaps even her mind was affected. Her thoughts could be swayed by his mere presence.
The drowsiness came over her in waves, soothing and irresistible.
Eventually, Lirette surrendered, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifted into sleep.
***
Valderion, engrossed in his work, glanced up after a while.
The constant, irritated presence he’d felt from Lirette—the small signs of her frustration—had vanished. She had gone quiet.
Looking over, he noticed she had fallen asleep on the sofa.
“Hah,” he sighed softly.
When had she gone from bristling like an angry kitten to sleeping so peacefully, without a care in the world?
Valderion set down his quill and leaned back in his chair, loosening his posture. He rubbed his lips thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on Lirette.
She was deep in sleep, completely unaware of his attention.
After a moment, he quietly stood and approached the sofa.
Her face, illuminated by the soft autumn light, looked serene and innocent, so different from when she was awake. Her head was tilted at an awkward angle, which would surely cause her discomfort. He gently straightened her head, making sure she was more comfortable.
Instead of walking away, he found himself smoothing down a few stray strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ear.
And then, instead of returning to his desk, Valderion crouched down in front of the sofa.
Given his tall stature, he had to lower himself significantly just to see her face properly.
He noticed the slight shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well either.
I guess neither of us have been getting much rest, he thought.
In the quiet of this moment, he allowed himself to study her face more closely. Normally, when she was awake, she would be quick to snap back or irritate him in some way, leaving little opportunity to truly observe her.
But now, watching her sleep, there was a strange tranquility to the scene. It felt like a rare, quiet moment amidst the usual chaos that defined their interactions.
He knew time was slipping away as he sat there, that the pressing matters of the world were still waiting. But the ticking of the clock seemed to lose its urgency.
For reasons he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her small, peaceful face.
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