Chapter 42

“Hmm, I’ve lost my appetite,” Hazel declared, her voice tinged with dissatisfaction as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. When her gaze met Elena’s, she offered a chilly smile, lifting one corner of her mouth.

“Elena, have the meal set up again and bring it to my room,” she commanded.

“If I simply change the fork, you can continue your meal immediately. I could arrange it right now,” Elena suggested, motioning to the nearby maid.

However, Hazel rose from her seat, smoothing her dress with her palm. “You seem to have forgotten that I’m in the midst of teaching you dining etiquette, haven’t you? Remember the incident with the fork at our last dinner?”

There was no way Elena could forget. It was the day Carmen, at Hazel’s insistence, had dragged her into the dining room. She flushed with embarrassment as she recalled the shocked expressions of Kennard and Serin upon seeing her. Not only had she dropped the fork out of nervousness, but she had also fumbled trying to retrieve it.

“You truly are clueless,” Hazel sighed. “People have instincts—words or actions that emerge unintentionally.”

What was she trying to say? Elena wondered.

“You instinctively reached for the fork that day. Perhaps because you lack the etiquette of nobles, but it indicates it’s ingrained in you. How does one rid themselves of such instinct?”

It dawned on Elena what Hazel was suggesting. “You mean I need to practice?”

“Yes. I aim to instill the dignity and etiquette of nobility within you. As a noble myself, I’m investing my time in educating someone like you, who is unaware of her own status. So instead of being ungrateful, refrain from making that disdainful expression.”

Meeting Hazel’s gaze head-on, Elena clenched her fist, feeling the handle of the fork digging into her palm as if it might pierce through.

“Oh, and I’ll be taking a bath tonight, Elena, and you’ll be attending to it,” Hazel announced casually.

“Me?” Elena repeated.

“Why are you so surprised? You’ve been bathed by your maids before, so you should be familiar with the process,” Hazel retorted.

It had been three days since Elena began attending to Hazel’s bathing needs. Initially, she had been led to believe that she could learn noble etiquette through this task, but it turned out to be more of a torment than anything else.

Waiting by Hazel’s bedside with water for washing and assisting with tasks like brushing her teeth before dawn had become routine. Even upon waking, Hazel would feign sleep, prompting Elena to fetch fresh water because it had cooled down. This pattern had become a daily occurrence now.

Elena hadn’t been entirely surprised by this turn of events. In fact, she had already anticipated it. Hazel’s usual demeanor towards her made it evident that she wouldn’t treat her kindly. Despite this knowledge, Elena had accepted the proposal, finding herself with little to say in response.

As Carmen rose to leave with Hazel, Elena’s gaze lingered blankly at the entrance they departed through. At that moment, two knights stationed outside glanced in her direction. Throughout their time escorting Hazel around the castle, these knights had been keeping a close eye on Elena.

“I can’t fathom why she’s doing this. It seems like she’s set on tormenting Miss Elena,” Cura, one of the maids, whispered discreetly to Elena, ensuring her lips barely moved as she spoke.

Despite her simmering anger towards Hazel’s arbitrary demands, Elena remained silent. Then, the maid who had left to retrieve gloves returned, glancing outside briefly before turning to Elena.

“Would you mind setting up Lady Hazel and Lady Carmen’s meal again?” Elena inquired of the nearby maids.

“It will take a moment,” one of the maids replied.

“That’s fine,” Elena said, prompting the maids to begin tidying up the table while they awaited further instructions.

“Are you really going to do this for them?” Cura’s eyes widened with concern.

“I have no choice,” Elena replied, swallowing back a sigh. Even amid such incidents, she needed to maintain her presence for the knights monitoring her alongside Hazel. Perhaps in doing so, there might be moments when their surveillance would loosen. With only a week remaining before they could depart the capital, she needed to make the most of it. Enduring these trials meant it would all be over in a week.

“You can leave that to me,” Elena assured, approaching the maid who had brought the gloves and extending her hand.

“Are you sure?” the hesitant maid asked, casting a worried glance at Elena’s complexion as she handed over the gloves.

In response to the sudden question, Elena looked directly at the maid. “Yes?”

“It’s just… does His Grace know about this? That… Miss Elena is doing this kind of thing,” the maid whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, her hand covering her mouth.

Elena chewed her lower lip, meeting the maid’s gaze. Alongside her voice, worry was reflected in her pupils. Elena recalled that this maid was among those who muttered or sneered behind her back whenever she passed by. It was clear she didn’t hold Elena in high regard. She didn’t even address Elena with the title ‘Miss’ nor say a word to her. Instead, she would subtly retreat if Elena approached. Yet now, she looked at Elena as if she were a completely different person.

“Yes, I have His Grace’s permission to attend to Lady Hazel,” Elena replied, smoothing her voice as if nothing were amiss.

“Did His Grace really approve? Well… I guess that’s why you’re out and about like this,” the maid remarked, seemingly aware of Elena’s confinement within her room.

Elena felt a twinge of discomfort, but forced a smile. 

“Even His Grace can’t intervene in matters related to his fiancée.”

At the maid’s muttered words, Elena stiffened. The single word ‘fiancée’ felt like a heavy blow to her head. She had tried not to dwell on it, but Hazel was indeed Kennard’s fiancée. And not just anyone, but the one chosen by the Emperor of Baruchella, making her an incomparable figure to Elena.

As the maid bowed in acknowledgment and made her way toward the other maids, Elena watched, her thoughts swirling with a mix of emotions.

In the meantime, she tightly clenched the gloves in her hand until wrinkles formed, then gradually relaxed her grip.

Why bother comparing? No, I shouldn’t compare. How dare I measure myself against a noblewoman like her? It’s absurd, Elena chided herself inwardly, her gaze blank as the maids pushed a tray of food toward her.

Elena, don’t forget. No matter how extravagant the dress you wear or how big the room you occupy, don’t delude yourself. The scars and wounds on your body betray your true status. And besides… The voice echoed in Elena’s mind, a relentless reminder of her reality.

She inwardly shouted at herself, You don’t even know your own name.

Struggling to maintain her composure, Elena fought against the overwhelming urge to collapse onto the floor. Most of her time within the castle had been spent seated on a bed or sofa, making the strain of standing for prolonged periods nearly unbearable. Yet, in this moment, the weight in her heart surpassed the burden on her body.

Desperately longing to retreat to the solace of her bedroom, Elena found herself battling against the impulse to flee the confines of the castle entirely. Can’t I simply remain by His Grace’s side like this? The thought startled her, its audacity catching her off guard.

But she quickly dismissed it as impossible. Elena knew all too well that entertaining such fantasies was futile. Elena, why have you become so cocky? she chastised herself, grappling with the conflicting desires within her.

***

“Don’t touch me!” Hazel’s sharp voice reverberated in the bathroom, causing Elena to retract her hand slowly, meeting Hazel’s gaze with a mixture of apprehension and apology.

As the moisture on her hand made contact with the hem of her dress, the turquoise fabric darkened, spreading over a larger wet area. 

Clutching the hem of her dress tightly, Elena observed Hazel’s profile. Hazel reclined in the wide bathtub, the water enveloping her body up to her chest. Moments ago, she had been leaning against the tub’s edge, her eyes closed in relaxation.

Elena broke the oppressive silence by pouring warm water over Hazel’s head, her hand trembling, causing droplets to cascade onto Hazel’s face from her forehead.

“I heard you bathe every day. How is it that you can’t even wash my hair properly?” Hazel’s voice was laced with disdain as she scooped up water from the tub, rinsing her face repeatedly before pushing her wet hair back.

Her porcelain-like skin shimmered in the candlelight, the wet strands of her hair gleaming like silk under the lamp’s glow.

“You can’t do anything right,” Hazel remarked, her criticism biting. Elena bit her lower lip, choosing to remain silent. It was her mistake that had caused the water to drip onto Hazel’s face, but it was a minor mishap, hardly worth the fuss.

“Just endure for a few days. Just a few days,” Elena reminded herself, swallowing the retort that lingered on her lips. There were so many things she wanted to say, but there was no need to further upset Hazel.

“Carmen, bring another maid,” Hazel commanded.

“Yes,” Carmen replied obediently, leaving her stationary post in the corner of the bathroom.

Hazel scrutinized Elena’s hands, her gaze landing on the roughness and scars. “Why are your hands so rough? And what are those wounds?”