As she walked down the corridor, she came upon a grand golden door adorned with a gleaming silver handle. An old man dressed as a butler addressed her. "Young miss, do you have business with the patriarch?". "N-No," she replied.
"Then what might you be doing here without notice… and without your maids?" the butler asked, a glint of hostility in his eyes.
At the mention of maids, she suddenly realized—there had been none near her room."I… suppose they must be elsewhere. Tell me, is that unusual?".The butler's lips twitched, almost into a smirk.
"Highly unusual, young miss. Your maids are never far… unless instructed otherwise."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Shall I assume you gave such an order?"
Her pulse quickened. She hadn't. And if she denied it outright, she risked exposing herself
"And if I didn't?"
The butler's expression froze for a moment, the faintest flicker of surprise breaking his composure. Then his eyes narrowed.
"Then, young miss… it would mean someone has dared to move your attendants without your consent."
He leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"And that, in this household, is no trivial matter."
A chill ran down her spine. Whoever controlled her maids might be testing her—or warning her.