Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 67

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

“If this is because of Jayden’s orders, wait. I will go and tell him I have no need of a maid.”

“That is not it, my lady.”

Marie’s denial only deepened Fiona’s confusion.

“Then why will you not go? If you wish to leave, then leave. I truly do not care.”

It was half obstinacy, but half sincerity as well. Since when had she been someone who required attending to? She had managed well enough before; she could manage again without a maid. It might prove a trifle more inconvenient, but that inconvenience was paradise compared to her former life.

At this point, she almost wished Marie would simply go. The maid had been unusually kind to her, and for reasons she could not quite articulate, Fiona found it unsettling.

She knew, vaguely, why. She did not trust kindness without cause. She had never received any.

Malice, Fiona understood far better than goodwill. The unfamiliar, by its very nature, was uncomfortable. Receiving warmth from another felt like incurring a debt that must someday be repaid. The sentiment she harboured towards the butcher and his wife was much the same.

It would be easier, then, if Marie left her be—left someone as ungrateful as herself to her own devices.

But at Fiona’s words, Marie hesitated only a moment before shaking her head.

“No. I have already informed the young master that I will not be returning. Unlike the other maids, I have no family waiting for me, and working here offers better wages.”

It was a practical enough reason, yet Fiona suspected it was not the whole truth.

Was Marie pitying her? Had tending to her these past weeks stirred some compassion for her pitiable circumstances? If so, Fiona wanted none of it.

Those who bore her ill will from the start she could tolerate. What she feared far more was kindness turning to cruelty.

Perhaps that was why Caligo’s abrupt change in demeanour had struck her so deeply.

What if Marie stayed out of misguided pity, only to come to resent her? What if, in trying to help, she ended up blaming Fiona for ruining her own lot?

Fiona did not wish to grow attached, only to be wounded more deeply.

“Enough of this nonsense. Just go back. I have no need for your help.”

She spat the words out, deliberately cold and sharp, but Marie seemed unperturbed. Fiona’s eyes narrowed further.

“Do you think there is some scrap of treasure waiting for you here at the end of all this hardship? There is nothing.”

Her coarse, rough tongue proved equally useless. The quiet, timid-seeming maid was, today, possessed of a peculiar stubbornness. And what she said next left Fiona utterly aghast.

“I wish to stay here and serve you, my lady.”

Serve her? Since when was she anyone’s lady?

The unfamiliar title unsettled her, but only for a moment. Incensed that the maid was paying her words no heed, Fiona scowled fiercely.

“I told you I do not want you here. Go now, before you come to regret it. What is the matter with you? Or is it pity? Do you pity me?”

Her heightened emotions had betrayed a truth she had wished to keep hidden. At her words, Marie flinched, then lowered her head.

“Pity? I would never presume. It is not that. It is only that….”

She paused, gathering her thoughts, then continued.

“The truth is… I do not know how you will take this… but I was also born and raised a bastard. That is why my heart goes out to you, my lady.”

At this unexpected confession, it was Fiona’s turn to be struck speechless.

“There is no one waiting to welcome me back in any case. I have lived my whole life cowering, burdened by my birth… but I was drawn to you, my lady. To your composure, your resilience. That is all. I simply decided I wished to remain by your side a while longer.”