When she opened her eyes again, it was already dawn.
The unbearable pain had caused Aurora to faint once more. Since leaving the Duke’s estate, this was already the third time she had lost consciousness.
Of course, no matter how many times it happened, she could never get used to it.
She was lying on a soft bed, silver hair spread across the pristine white sheets. When the morning sunlight streamed through the window and hit her hair, it shimmered like gold.
“…My clothes?”
She could feel that underneath the covers, she was only wearing her underwear. The dress given to her by the elf seemed to have been removed and was nowhere to be seen.
Sitting up from the bed, the white sheet slid off her shoulders, revealing her pale, tender skin.
She hastily grabbed the sheet and clutched it in front of her chest, trying to cover the rather unflattering undergarments.
“…This is…”
On the nightstand lay a black-and-white garment—its familiar design immediately recognizable. A maid outfit.
“…”
Aurora sighed softly. Picking up the outfit, she began to dress herself. The rustling sounds of fabric filled the quiet room.
Her movements were practiced, and she slipped into the intricate maid uniform with ease, finishing in just a short while.
There was even a pair of maid’s high heels conveniently placed by the bed. After putting them on, she walked to the mirror and tidied up her slightly messy hair.
As soon as she finished dressing, her posture instinctively straightened, and her movements began to unconsciously follow the manners and discipline of a maid.
But when she stepped out of the room, what met her eyes was a stark contrast to the tidy interior she’d just left.
The hallway carpets were covered in dust. The wallpaper had faded. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was draped in cobwebs.
Aside from the room she had just been in, the rest of the mansion looked completely abandoned, as if no one had lived there for years.
Tap, tap, tap…
Aurora wandered through the mansion, looking for any sign of Beatrice. In the silence, the only sound was the crisp click of her high heels against the wooden floor.
“Well, it does suit you.”
A familiar voice suddenly echoed from above. Aurora looked up to find Beatrice floating overhead, seated casually on a broomstick.
She was looking directly at Aurora, one hand resting lazily on the handle of the broom, the picture of ease and confidence.
“You’ve been following me the whole time?”
“Just wanted to see if you’d try to run while I wasn’t looking.”
“Beatrice, I’m your familiar now. I can’t even stay far from you…”
“What did you just call me?”
A cold voice rang out.
Aurora swallowed hard before speaking again, “…Mistress.”
Beatrice slowly descended until she was standing right in front of Aurora.
With her slender, jade-like fingers, she pinched Aurora’s cheek and whispered by her ear, “If you call me the wrong thing again, I won’t let you off so easily next time.”
Her eyes were icy cold. In her other hand, a faint red chain shimmered ominously into view.
“Yes… Mistress.”
Aurora’s voice trembled slightly. She was terrified that Beatrice would torment her again—she didn’t want to faint for a fourth time.
A warm touch encircled her wrist. Beatrice pulled on her arm with a bit of force, and Aurora fell straight into her embrace.
Beatrice’s fingers brushed across Aurora’s lips, then she pointed to her own, her gaze filled with dangerous allure.
“Do you know how to please your mistress?”
Her warm breath fanned across Aurora’s face. Her tone was intoxicating, seductive like a snake woman coiled around her prey, flicking her tongue—gorgeous, enticing, and deadly.
“I… I do.”
Aurora raised her head slightly, leaned in, and gently pressed her lips to Beatrice’s.
It was a short and hesitant kiss, tender and unpracticed.
“Did the ones you served before ever make you do this?”
“No… They didn’t. This is… my first time kissing someone willingly.”
This wasn’t her first kiss—her younger sister had stolen that from her. But if she said that aloud, Beatrice would surely be furious. She might even kill her sister’s entire family on the spot.
So this secret had to stay buried.
“Heh. I hope you’re telling the truth.”
“But…”
Just as Aurora was about to pull away, Beatrice yanked her back into her arms. Without warning, something soft crashed against her lips again.
This time, it was Beatrice who took control of the kiss—deeper, more forceful.
Aurora’s breath was stolen bit by bit, and the unbearable sensation of suffocation returned.
She tried to push Beatrice away, but it wasn’t just her breath that was being taken. Her strength, too, was draining—lost in the numbing pleasure spreading through her body.
In the quiet corridor, only the sound of soft gasps and sticky, seductive noises echoed—rising and falling in waves…
A long time passed.
It was only after thoroughly indulging herself that Beatrice finally released those lips she had bitten down on.
“Cough cough… hah… hahh~”
Aurora clutched her chest and bent over, gasping desperately for air. Crystal-clear tears rolled from the corners of her eyes.
She had once again been forcefully kissed by Beatrice—and just like every time, it was deep, suffocating, and overwhelming. She didn’t like kisses like this.
“From now on, do it just like that. Understood?”
The cold voice echoed in her ears. A pale hand lifted her lowered chin, forcing her to meet Beatrice’s bottomless, lightless gaze.
She seemed to be waiting for Aurora’s response. The hand holding her face pulled her even closer.
Within those dark pupils, Aurora’s breathless and pained expression was reflected.
“…Understood, Mistress.”
Only after hearing the answer did Beatrice finally let her go.
She stared at Aurora with clear disdain in her eyes.
“With how clumsy you are, how did you ever become a maid?”
“…”
“Heh. In that case, serve me.”
“Isn’t this your duty—as a maid, and as my familiar?”
“What… would you like me to do?”
Beatrice paused thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced around at the filthy floor.
“Clean this entire estate for me.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
As a seasoned maid, Aurora had long found the dust on the carpet and the cobwebs clinging to the ceiling unbearable. So when she heard she was finally allowed to clean the place, she accepted the task without hesitation.
She quickly located the servants’ resting area. Inside was a complete set of cleaning tools.
Picking up the tools, she got to work without a moment’s hesitation.
While using time magic to restore the damaged, timeworn decorations, she swept away dust and cobwebs with the cleaning tools in her hands.
In no time at all, a clean and beautiful room appeared before Beatrice’s eyes.
Aurora then went on to clean the living room, the courtyard, and the garden. It only took her one morning to make the entire mansion look as if it had been newly renovated.
Beatrice sat on her broom, suspended high above the estate.
She watched Aurora as she worked tirelessly—and felt a growing, smoldering discontent rise within her.
This isn’t right…
The Aurora she knew shouldn’t be like this.
Eve Aurora—she was supposed to be a fool who could only sew clothes, someone who relied on her for everything else.
Every time she saw this composed and graceful version of her, Beatrice felt a nameless fury burn in her chest. This isn’t how she should be.
She needed to rely on Beatrice. She needed to cling to her like a parasite. She needed to be unable to live without her.
She needed to cry in Beatrice’s arms, to pout and act spoiled toward her—that was the only version of Aurora that Beatrice could accept as the perfect one.