The door creaked open, and the maids stepped inside, their footsteps soft against the polished floor. They were young, dressed immaculately in the colors of the Duke’s household, their movements practiced and efficient. At first, their eyes went directly to me, but the moment they noticed her, they hesitated.
A flicker of surprise crossed their faces—brief, almost imperceptible—but there nonetheless. After all, it was not every day that Madeleina, one of the highest-ranking attendants in the mansion, was found in the guest chambers of an adventurer.
Still, they were well-trained. Within a heartbeat, they schooled their expressions into careful neutrality and lowered their heads in respect. “Miss Madeleina.”
Madeleina, who had remained still until now, turned her gaze toward them. There was no tension in her posture, no sign that she had been caught in a compromising situation. With the same smooth, measured grace she carried through the halls of the mansion, she inclined her head in return.
“I was simply ensuring that our guest understood his schedule,” she said, her voice calm, composed. “It would be improper if he was unprepared for his audience with the Duke.”
The words fell into place effortlessly, a perfect explanation, free of any cracks that could be questioned. It was a skill she had long since mastered—giving just enough information to sound irrefutable while ensuring no one could dig any deeper.
The maids accepted her reasoning without pause, bowing once more before returning their attention to me. Madeleina took this as her cue to leave, stepping past them with effortless poise. As she reached the door, she glanced back at me, her expression unreadable.
“…..”
Though without another single word, she stepped out, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
The moment she was gone, the maids turned back to me, their hands folded neatly in front of them, all proper decorum and professionalism.
“If you’ll allow us, Mister Luca,” one of them said, “we will begin preparing you for your audience with the Duke.”
I nodded, leaning back slightly as I let them do whatever it was they needed to do. The maids wasted no time, moving with the efficiency of people who had done this countless times before.
Then, without warning, one of them took a step closer—too close—and sniffed me.
I raised an eyebrow, my amusement flickering to life as I watched her, but she remained completely unfazed. Cold, professional, and utterly uninterested in how strange that action might have been. After a brief pause, she gave a small nod, as if confirming something to herself.
“It appears that you have cleaned yourself well,” she remarked, her voice as neutral as if she were commenting on the weather.
A slow smirk tugged at my lips. “Just because I’m an adventurer doesn’t mean I need to be smelly.”
The maid met my gaze evenly, unshaken. “Pardon my rudeness, but…” she hesitated only for a fraction of a second before finishing, “adventurers are often like that.”
I chuckled, waving my hand dismissively. “Oh, I know. But as you can see, not every adventurer also has an audience with Duke Thaddeus, don’t you think?”
A brief silence stretched between us.
Then—
“Ahem… you are right,” she admitted, clearing her throat as she quickly composed herself.
I grinned, watching her regain her professionalism in real-time.
The other maids, as if relieved the conversation was over, swiftly moved on to their next task, producing fine garments and beginning the process of ensuring I was properly dressed for the occasion.
Ah.
This brought some undesirable memories.
But, I presume one way or another I would need to face them anyway.
‘Right….Calm down….’
These poor maids were just doing their jobs after all.
********
The halls of the mansion stretched endlessly before her, their familiar corridors offering no comfort. Each step echoed against polished floors, the sound steady, unwavering—but her thoughts were anything but.
Who the hell is he?
Madeleina’s fingers curled slightly, her nails pressing into the fabric of her sleeve.
She had come here to confirm one thing. That was all. She had long since accepted what was to come—long since understood that her place in the grand scheme of things had already been set.
Her end was inevitable.
She had no regrets.
She had only wanted answers.
And yet—
That man.
Luca. Whatever name he called himself.
Something about him unsettled her.
It wasn’t the way he spoke—though his teasing, infuriating way of twisting words into weapons had certainly tested her patience. Nor was it the way he carried himself, lounging in that chair as though this entire affair was nothing more than an amusing inconvenience.
No.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like he knew. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire
Not just about Aeliana. Not just about the past.
But about her.
About things no outsider could have possibly known.
That smile of his—it hadn’t been mocking, not entirely. It had been something else. Something worse.
Understanding.
Her stomach churned at the thought.
What was he?
He was too young. Too unimportant. An adventurer, of all things. Someone who should have been beneath her notice. And yet, in that dimly lit chamber, with those black eyes fixed on her, she had felt—
No.
She had known.
This man is dangerous.
Not because of brute strength. Not because of power or status.
But because he sees.
He sees far too much.
And that—that—was terrifying.
Madeleina exhaled slowly, forcing her thoughts into order.
The Duke would summon her soon.
She would face what was coming.
She had always known this moment would arrive.
But now—
Now she had more questions than answers.
Madeleina’s steps slowed as she passed beneath the towering portraits lining the corridor. The dim light of the lanterns flickered against gilded frames, casting elongated shadows along the walls.
Then—her eyes caught on him.
The portrait of Duke Alistair V. Thaddeus.
The father of Duke Thaddeus. The man her own father had served with unwavering loyalty.
Her throat tightened.
His gaze was as piercing as she remembered, even immortalized in oil and canvas. The artist had captured his sharp, unyielding presence—his regal stance, his severe expression, the weight of responsibility woven into every brushstroke.
Memories stirred, old and worn, but never forgotten.
‘Father…’
The word slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
And then—his voice.
Not in reality. Not in sound.
But in memory.
“Aeliana.”
The name rang through her mind, a ghost of the past.
Her father had always called her by her middle name when speaking of duty. Never Madeleina. Never his daughter.
“Our family has always been attendants, and we will always remain so. Do not ever forget our family’s first and most important conduct…”
Know your place.
The words had been etched into her from childhood, spoken with quiet finality, drilled into the marrow of her bones.
Know your place. Serve with unwavering devotion. Never forget whom you belong to.
Madeleina swallowed, tearing her gaze away from the portrait.
It was a bit late.