Bradley held this strange obsession with winning and, just because I’d accidentally struck his fragile ego, he seemed to have become overprotective, as if my soul was the sole objective he needed to attain. Had his pride gone so far as to protect me until he won, dumping me afterward, or had such competition caused his heart to be clouded with infatuation?

Don’t tell me... does he actually like me?

No matter how much my mind picked possibilities, such as the only one able to justify such behavior, all seemed weird. He wanted to own my heart, to steal it like he had done so many times before. That was the focus of our little competition, however, he could do so regardless of where I stayed. However, the rumors of Terrel’s wrong doings had been the hot topic of high society’s gossip for a handful of years - meaning that even now, where no one seemed to care about such transgressions anymore, such truth still lingered in the back of their minds, being a constant reminder of the Wharton’s son true essence.

Could he be trying to protect me from that monster?

Briefly, the thought of using that man’s feelings to my advantage flew through, knowing if well polished such could come to be; but, one who plays with fire gets easily burnt. I wouldn’t be fomenting the feelings of a man that could prove himself to be far more dangerous than the demon of my husband-to-be.

“You know I hate repeating myself.”

“Lord Terrel tried to take you away many times after your condition improved but Lord Bradley didn’t allow him to even see you so one time...” The maid’s hands gradually begun to tremble, clearly feeling frightened by the memory of that beast’s touch, her fingers covering the bruise sinking on her wrist. “... he grabbed me and tried to force me, but the lord helped me.”

Terrel was truly a self-centered man with little tact or culture, not being aware of the existence of self-control, thus being constantly bound by violence and his rawest, most wicked desires. Surely, such predictable behavior would become nothing but his own demise, like the downfall of those villains from the stories in children’s books.

“What about Millicia? What happened to her?”

Ivy’s complexion palled, eyes completely widened. “It was awful, milady... Earl Hillgarden questioned her but she bit off her own tongue and then was taken by the royal guards... I heard from the other maids her execution will be held two days from now.”

It took me completely by surprise. Millicia had always been a rather innocent but reckless child, prioritizing her own values and life far more than mere concepts such as undying loyalty; yet, she’d made a tremendous sacrifice for a scoundrel of a man. It seemed like that silly country-bumpkin had more to lose by remaining alive, as if the Duke held some type of leverage on her. Luckily, my heart was so, but so ever kind.

“What about my family?” Such words left a bitter taste in my mouth, causing my insides to twist in utter disgust.

“I saw them leaving the party, milady, but it wasn’t long since I followed Lord Bradley inside... I couldn’t bear to leave you alone like that.”

Ivy was truly the perfect maid. She didn’t try to gain my favor nor to intervene unless called upon and anything she did came out perfectly, almost as if she’d been training her entire life to attain such position. After Terrel’s incident, where my intervention saved her from the worst experience of her life, she’d started to respect me and go to the extra mile to ensure my well-being.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Tell me... why did you begin working at the Wharton’s estate?” With nerves darting through her skin, erupting little volcanoes on her bare arms, the maid’s fingers twirled on each other, hoping to find a way to slither from such question. “Did you know Duke Criswell has planted a spy on the mansion? That wouldn’t happen to be you now, would it, Ivy?”

All of her movements stopped, as if the grim reaper had arrived to steal her away to the afterlife. Yet, when she straightened her back and showed me the most determinate, stern expression I’d ever seen, my breath was swallowed whole, unable to escape my being. “Yes. I came here on his orders.”

Silence then settled. The sound of galloping from the horses mingled with the faint breeze coming from the barely opened window, causing a whisper to flow in. Our gazes faced each other, sharpening the daggers hidden in our upcoming words.

“He was going to pay me to deliver him information, but I was never summoned back. I think he might’ve hired someone else and was getting it from them instead.” Even with such conclusion, the environment was still tense, filled with a pressure one could only feel with heaviness on the chest, with the harshness irritation on the throat. The maid bowed in front of me as much as the carriage allowed her to. “I will gladly receive any punishment you see fit, milady, but please allow me the honor to continue serving you.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” I kept her there, trembling for a handful of minutes, still unsure of whether the truth was actually this easily attained. “Why are you confessing it now? You had plenty of opportunities before.”

“Milady came to my rescue when I thought everything would be lost.” She rose her torso, facing me once again, a strange act of insubordination that my soul didn’t seem to mind. Her hazelnut eyes were as clear as day, sharpened like the iron spikes that surround the noble’s estates, preventing liars and rats from slithering in. “I am well aware you didn’t do so out of kindness as I’ve been observing you more than the rest of the maids, but even then, I am proud to serve you.”

A maid is actually proud to serve someone? Is this some sort of distasteful joke?

“Why would you be proud to serve me? I hold no power, no status other than the one given by my gender.”

“You are different, milady. I have only served one noble lady before, but I can tell it. I know that if I support you, my goals will be fulfilled.” Her hands grabbed part of the dress, crumbling the fabric with the strength placed in the grip.

“And what might those goals be?” It didn’t come as a surprise when she finally revealed her true colors, displaying her ambitions out loud, the ones many kept hidden behind a two-goody-shoes façade.

“I want to wed well. To leave this wretched life of working my bones off just to die in a ditch somewhere.”

A chuckled escaped my lips, sneering at such delusional dream. “Those are really pretty words Ivy but I’m afraid I don’t believe them.”

“I’m simply asking for a chance to prove it.” The maid bowed down yet again, gaze facing the floor of the carriage as it passed through several bumps, causing her body to waver from side to side.

Do I need to read between the lines? Such development seemed too simple, just like her so called life ambitions.

Ivy’s confession and willing affection towards me seemed planned, like a theatrical play yet her words didn’t appear to be completely untruthful. She’d almost sacrifice one of her fingers at my own request, something one wouldn’t do if they didn’t possess a strong resolution and loyalty but, the same can be said for the real manipulator, foolishly deceiving others by thinking they hold all the cards.

“Rise.” As Ivy’s figure straightened, an amusing thought came to mind. “If you find the spy working for that man, I’ll consider your sins cleansed.”