The air was laced with the scent of wet earth and dew-kissed grass as we circled the field for the fourth time that morning. Paige—my summoned mirror-self—was now the one sweating in drills with the Count's knights. The decision had been "mutual," though it was obvious to all involved that Paige was far better suited to the role than I was. My strengths lay elsewhere—observing, adapting, and surviving aristocrats with appetites sharper than daggers.
The side of the Edelstein mansion we occupied—Regina, Paige, and I—was unusually quiet. Though the staff dutifully maintained it, the halls felt abandoned, as if haunted. Servants whispered of curses, of ghosts, of me being seen in two places at once. We didn't mind. Solitude offered privacy. And privacy meant secrets could be nurtured without prying eyes.
I stood behind Regina at her dresser, carefully weaving her golden-blonde hair—dark streaks near the roots gleaming like ink—into an intricate crown braid. She sat upright, book in lap, speaking animatedly about magical beasts and mythic creatures with a fire that cracked through her usual mask of cold pride.
"Hmph. Mermaids sound fascinating," she said. "Perhaps we should go fishing someday."
It had been eight months since I'd been reincarnated into this world—eight months of navigating life as a maid to a brilliant, psychopathic noble girl. I'd learned enough to braid her hair without System prompts, read her moods before they flared, and talk her down with tailored distractions.
"Maybe we'll go swimming," I offered, fingers threading through silken strands. "Roast whatever we catch. If you catch any."
She gave a small, regal sniff but didn't argue. Regina rarely did when it came to plans she secretly liked. Compliments she pretended not to care for. Warm milk and honey she insisted she didn't need to sleep—but always drank to the last drop.
Tonight was her coming-of-age debut in the capital.
The green gown laid across her bed shimmered like bottled springtime, and I could already imagine how well it'd contrast with her hair—the gold, the black, the strange shadow she carried behind her noble bearing.
"You'll look breathtaking in that dress," I said aloud, more to fill the silence than to flatter.
She said nothing. Just stood, moving toward the full-length mirror. Her reflection tilted its head like she was examining someone she both adored and despised. Herself.
The tailor had been summoned to the estate. Regina refused to set foot in town again—her pride wouldn't allow it, not after the last incident.
Across the room, Paige sat quietly on a stool, nose buried in one of Regina's military texts, absorbing tactics and troop formations like she'd been made for war. She had been. But the softness around her was growing—the longer she stayed in this world, the more human she seemed.
I'd considered getting back at Regina for manipulating me back in town—forcing me to take that blade for her. But when she wordlessly handed me a gold coin a few days later, I realized that was her version of an apology. I accepted it. Not forgiveness, but balance.
Later that day, the carriage arrived.
A crimson-red coach, detailed with gilded lions and bearing the Edelstein crest, rolled into the estate's courtyard. It first picked up Regina and me. She swept into it with the air of someone born to command—not a single glance wasted. Her gown flowed like seafoam on blood. No need for etiquette lessons—her existence was etiquette, tailored and rehearsed.
I followed, my own steps measured, guided by the head maid's drilling and the System's subtle corrections. Posture perfect. Chin tilted. Hands folded just right.
The carriage stopped at the castle to collect Count Aurelius and Commander Rose.
"Good morning, Father," Regina greeted him without emotion, her face carved from composure.
A flicker of pain passed through the Count's eyes, gone before it could linger. "How are you, dear?"
"Very well," she replied, tone flat but polite.
Rose followed him in, sword at her hip, eyes scanning everything—including me.
"You look lovely, dear," she said, more genuinely.
I bowed slightly as I entered and took the seat beside Regina. The Count and Rose sat opposite. The other maids would ride in the second carriage, giving this one the air of a private war council.
Before departure, I'd dismissed Paige into the background—temporarily unsummoning her to avoid awkward questions. We'd agreed she would reappear once we reached the capital.
As the carriage rolled forward, I stared out the window, the trees blurring past.
Regina was calm. Rose was watching me like I was a loose blade. The Count sat in heavy silence, a ruler made from water and stone.
We were going to the capital.
Into the lion's mouth.