Chapter 5
I tossed and turned all night. Just when I thought I’d fallen asleep, my eyes would snap open, and I’d writhe in bed, agonizing over my thoughts again and again.
Her body, deprived of proper rest, was in poor condition, and Roseline practically crawled out of bed.
At breakfast, she picked at her food like a sickly chicken, nodding off between bites, drawing Lina’s concerned gaze.
“You should rest today,” Lina insisted for what felt like the hundredth time as she helped Roseline change into her uniform.
“I’m fine. I still have to deal with yesterday’s mess.”
She draped a dark teal cape over her ankle-length dress of the same color, tied a thin golden ribbon, and fastened a healing-class brooch at its center before checking her reflection in the mirror.
If the extravagant, layered embroidery and flowing skirts were the exclusive domain of nobility, then the uniform—revealing the ankles—was the symbol of the Awakened.
Some offensive-class Awakened wore skirt-like trousers, but most wore uniforms of the same design. With clothing standardized, vanity found expression in shoes.
Some flaunted their individuality with the finest flats from the capital’s best shoemakers, while others wore imported footwear from beyond the borders. The most expensive were the artisan-crafted snow-deer leather shoes. The leather, taken from snow deer inhabiting the northern highlands, had a subtle grayish-brown hue and was highly sought after by Awakened due to rumors that it aided mana circulation. But obtaining it was nearly impossible, making it exorbitantly priced.
Just yesterday, those had been the shoes Roseline wore.
“I’ll wear different shoes today. Where did you put my old ones?”
It was time to distance herself, one by one, from the things Valen had given her.
“Why would you want to wear those worn-out things?”
“They’re more comfortable.”
In truth, nothing could match the delicate flexibility of snow-deer leather, but her heart had already decided.
“Lina, I’m going to be late.”
Seeing Roseline’s unusually firm stance, Lina reluctantly fetched the old shoes. After one last glance in the mirror, Roseline left the room. Lina stared at her retreating figure, tilting her head in puzzlement.
As if sensing her gaze, Roseline turned abruptly, her hand on the doorknob.
“I’ll be back.”
Her slightly upturned eyes curved into a round, girlish smile, bright and refreshing. The sharp, cold features that usually made her look haughty melted away, leaving her looking as innocent as a child.
“If you feel unwell, don’t push yourself—come back right away. Don’t bottle it up and make yourself sick, Young Lady.”
“Mm. Have a good day too, Lina.”
Roseline finally disappeared beyond the door after waving her hand. Though she tried not to show it, anyone could see she was weighed down by worry. And most likely, that damned young master was involved.
“That bastard deserves to die.”
Muttering to herself—something about him having the audacity to leer at her, as if he had any right—Lina pulled back the curtains and opened the window. Just then, a bird flew down from the distant sky, alighting on the windowsill with a chirp. Its glossy black feathers marked it as the Grand Duke’s messenger bird. At first, it had startled her, but after seeing it a few times, she’d even come to find it somewhat cute.
“The Grand Duke has words for you to deliver.”
That was what the Grand Duke’s steward had said the previous afternoon, arms laden with parcels. Though not as imposing as the Grand Duke himself, the steward carried a razor-sharp air about him—one that made backs instinctively bow.
“Tomorrow morning, a messenger bird will come to this window. If there is anything the Grand Duke should know, no matter what it is, you are to report it.”
When had it been? There had been similar occasions before. Whenever the young lady’s mood had darkened, the steward would invariably appear.
At first, the idea of secretly relaying information behind Roseline’s back had felt uncomfortable. But remembering the humiliating rumors—seductress, mistress—how could she stay silent?
“You’ll deliver it well again today, won’t you?”
Tying the letter she’d prepared the night before in the servants’ quarters to the bird’s leg, Lina watched as it tilted its beak upward in response, fluttered its wings, and took off. She closed the window with a swell of pride. Back when she’d first learned to write from Roseline, she’d wondered what use a commoner had for letters. But now—no, especially today—she couldn’t recall a time she’d felt prouder.
There was no way Roseline would ever speak of being harassed to the Grand Duke herself. So wasn’t it her duty to tell him?
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