Ayla thought that maid was peculiar.
No, in fact, calling her peculiar might be too generous a description.
Actually, it was more like “suspicious.”
Even if she won in swordsmanship, every movement, every glance, reflected someone who had experienced countless hardships.
A person who could stab their opponent with a nonchalant expression, someone who wouldn’t feel the slightest regret if they believed their opponent deserved to die.
That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The world was like that, after all.
Even Ayla herself had been that kind of person.
But keeping someone like that close without fully trusting them was a bit dangerous.
Even if she couldn’t face her opponent head-on and win, there were countless ways to harm someone if one had the intention.
“…So, it’s revenge, after all.”
She had said she owed the Count a debt.
But when Luna talked about the Count, her tone was extremely dry.
Her voice carried no emotion whatsoever toward the Count.
It wasn’t pity for someone who had helped her, nor was it suppressed anger driven by revenge; it was literally the tone of someone stating a simple fact.
Because of that, it felt even more unnatural. Ayla thought maybe she was hiding her emotions with perfect acting.
If that were the case, Ayla wouldn’t be a target for elimination. Unless she wanted to use Ayla as a puppet, there was no benefit to killing her.
Perhaps Luna was trying to gauge how Ayla felt about the Count. If Ayla hated him, she might use that hatred to claim even the smallest achievements the Count had built.
For a noble, having their honor stolen and turned into someone else’s was the ultimate disgrace.
Conversely, Luna’s friendliness toward the young lady could also be explained.
If she wanted to take everything the Count had left, she would need the daughter’s cooperation.
It wouldn’t have taken much investigation to find out Ayla’s situation.
She could seek Ayla’s cooperation and work together to manipulate the young lady. Then, destroy all the achievements the Count had built and profit in the process.
If the young lady became useless… well, that could be dealt with later. She might even sell her off to another noble.
Just as the baron had sold Ayla off to the Count.
So, was that why she gifted her that sword?
To win her favor with something she liked?
Hmph.
Ayla snorted.
It wasn’t a particularly powerful snort.
Ayla didn’t really want to leave the young lady like that.
She didn’t have a clear idea of what she wanted to do. She just felt a slight kinship with the young lady, who spent every day alone in her room without friends.
Maybe it was cheap sympathy. Sympathy that would only be poison to a girl raised as the Count’s pawn without knowing anything else.
Even so, Ayla didn’t want to act on it.
In the end, she neither trained the young lady harshly nor dragged her away. Time passed without Ayla abandoning her, though she would surely become prey if left alone.
“I’ve always been like this,” Ayla murmured with a sigh.
Being alone all the time was also a poison.
Just as the young lady would cling and smile at anyone who showed her the smallest kindness, Ayla had developed a habit of muttering to herself without realizing it.
Though she hadn’t yet displayed that habit in front of others.
“I never do anything decisively. Always pretending to have it together, but in the end…”
She had never wanted to leave that place.
Even without soft silk clothes, handsome noble suitors, or lavish feasts, she liked the freedom of roaming and wielding her sword as she pleased.
But she couldn’t disobey the baron, her father.
If that were the case, she should’ve become the perfect noble instead, but Ayla couldn’t adapt to that, either.
The baron dressed Ayla in luxurious clothes and showcased her here and there, like a gaudy trinket sold in the market.
But no high-ranking noble wanted the daughter of a disgraced family that had fallen out of royal favor—at least not for her appearance alone.
Well, “almost” none. There was one exception: the Count, who was older than the baron.
Ayla didn’t know how far or wide Count Wellenborough’s influence extended.
At the very least, it was enough to take in the daughter of a tarnished family as a concubine without causing major issues.
Or maybe it was a political move—to keep the baron under control by keeping his daughter close.
“Let’s run away, together.”
The words he had said last came to mind.
“I’ll protect you.”
The boy, who had been smaller than Ayla when they first met, was much taller than her by then.
He had probably meant those words.
And he likely had the skill to back them up.
But you can’t run away forever.
The boy had enough skill to become a knight in any noble house, but Ayla didn’t think he could survive constant attacks from assassins sent for revenge.
In the end, Ayla couldn’t take his hand.
On the surface, she acted like it was fine, like she was okay—but she was scared.
She didn’t want the memories they’d built to be stained with blood.
She didn’t want to die, accused of kidnapping the baron’s son.
“…Not that I expected to end up as the Countess, anyway.”
Splash.
She scooped water with her hand and let it fall.
She hadn’t heard from him since.
She had tried searching later but found nothing. He had already vanished.
Neither where he went nor who had taken him was known.
Even the master of the dojo had kept silent.
And that was the end.
The memories became just memories.
There were a few moments at balls when she locked eyes with a man of similar impression.
But the face would soon disappear.
Was it hope?
She wondered if she had expected the person who had said those words to eventually come save her.
“Haha.”
She laughed, thinking it sounded like a proper noblewoman’s laughter.
For the past week, Luna, the maid, hadn’t failed to come up here after Ayla bathed.
No, it was more like she’d been listening from outside and quickly came in when the opportunity arose.
Out of courtesy, or perhaps because Ayla had repeatedly expressed her dislike, Luna would only enter after Ayla had dressed.
But today, Ayla didn’t feel like going through the motions.
Although she had won in the end, she had gotten so carried away with excitement that she swung her sword until exhaustion set in.
“Haa.”
Instead of getting dressed as usual, Ayla casually draped a robe over herself and half-lay on the sofa to rest.
“…
Luna didn’t come in immediately.
Being the meticulous maid she was, she was likely bathing herself. She wouldn’t want to approach her master smelling of sweat.
Knock, knock.
How long had it been?
A knock came from the door.
“Come in.”
At Ayla’s words, the door slowly opened.
And there appeared Luna, who had been trailing after Ayla all week.
Could she be the daughter of some noble family? Her pale skin looked as though she had never experienced hardship. Her well-kept black hair was immaculate.
That made it all the more strange. If she had spent her entire life training, it wouldn’t have been easy to maintain such skin and hair.
Could she really be a spy sent by another noble house?
“Ayla-nim, I have something to report―”
Their eyes met, and Luna’s violet eyes locked onto Ayla’s.
…Perhaps it was because of those eyes that Ayla couldn’t bring herself to dismiss Luna completely.
They reminded her of his eyes—always looking at her as if she shone brightly.
For some reason, this maid named Luna stared at Ayla with the same gaze as that man, who now existed only in her memories.
But oddly, Luna, who rarely displayed any expression, froze as soon as their eyes met.
Then, she turned around abruptly.
Her wide skirt flared momentarily, spreading like flower petals due to the centrifugal force.
“…What’s wrong?”
Ayla asked, staring blankly at the back of her retreating figure.
“…I didn’t realize you hadn’t finished dressing, Ayla-nim. It was my oversight as a maid. I apologize.”
Still, her voice seemed as composed as usual. The emphasis on “maid” seemed deliberate.
“Wait, hold on.”
Ayla furrowed her brows as she spoke.
“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed?”
“I am not, Ayla-nim.”
With an air of feigned composure, the maid replied,
“It’s simply that I cannot afford to act improperly toward my master.”
But turning her back on her?
She always exited the room walking backward.
“Didn’t you say you could help me change if needed?”
Luna hesitated, as if searching for a response, unable to come up with anything immediately.
“Come closer,” Ayla said.
At her command, Luna moved backward.
“Hah.”
Ayla let out a bemused laugh.
It was absurd, but somehow, it lightened her mood slightly.
Come to think of it, Luna had always been like this.
At first glance, she seemed so flawless that Ayla suspected she might be an assassin. But now, she seemed… somewhat human.
At least, beneath her expressionless demeanor, there appeared to be no hostility toward Ayla.
Ayla sat up and closed her robe.
“Alright, I’m dressed now. You can turn around.”
The maid turned slowly, like a ballerina figurine revolving atop a music box.
Her face was faintly flushed.
Ayla found herself chuckling without reason.