Overlaid (2)

The sun rose on the second day. The room was right next to the duke's chambers, yet worlds apart. Still, no one knew I was staying here. Perhaps that's why. I hadn't grown accustomed to it, but it wasn't as bad as I'd thought.

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"The time I opened my eyes..."

6:35 a.m. Later than expected.

"Normally, my eyes would have snapped open much earlier."

Back then, I would have risen far sooner. It was the same body, yet it refused to obey—that made no sense at all. Still, it wasn't disastrously late. No one would come to this room at this hour anyway.

No. Time isn't the issue.

At this point, three months and two days in, there would be no shortage of grievances against me. Who would want to visit someone like that? No one would crave my company or my orders.

Of course, one person is obligated to come.

For her sake alone, I needed to rise earlier from now on. I opened the storeroom door to begin the day. I couldn't dive straight into work; first, I had to wash up.

Stepping into the bathroom, the bathtub came into view. Seeing the proper water level and warm temperature sparked a flood of thoughts. With everything in perfect order, things would inevitably change. The water level would drop bit by bit. The temperature would start to cool. It would manifest as dissatisfaction from the maids tasked with filling the bath.

-Splash.

I didn't know how long this would last. But it wouldn't be much longer.

"Dissatisfaction from the maids."

Dissatisfaction. It was inevitable. They already resented having to serve me. Any additional reasons wouldn't be surprising. But the looming issue ahead... I needed to prepare for that.

-Splash.

I washed quickly. Tia always emphasized it: For a noble, appearance was a weapon.

-It's the same anywhere, anytime. No matter who the opponent, Your Grace must show no outward flaws. Your body must never carry the stench of neglect. Even if it means being late, there should be no trace of a hasty wash. Noble and flawless. That is the only permissible visage for the Duke of Freyvelric.

Thus, when meeting anyone, this nobility had to be upheld. Only then would they feel pressure just from looking at me. Simply adjusting my attire more sharply and presenting a more meticulously groomed self would suffice. That was the power of the Duke of Freyvelric.

Unlike yesterday, I planned to wield that pressure on someone today.

There's no morning meal scheduled today.

The Freyvelric household occasionally gathered the entire family for breakfast. Various matters were aired out over the meal. It had continued through those past three months. Truth be told, "occasionally" was a misnomer; given the family dynamics, it happened every time. The sisters stuck closely together. The duchess, who had doted on them, went without saying. Their mother-daughter breakfasts were less a formality and more daily family routine.

Of course, the atmosphere had surely shifted now. A family breakfast with everyone present... Yes. It was the same table the girls had recently shared with their mother. Holding it so soon after that agony might be utterly distasteful. They could no longer accept it as routine. Yet it had to proceed, regardless of my will. It was Freyvelric tradition.

Reports and summaries. Proposals and initiatives. Confirmations and directives. That was the true purpose of these gatherings.

- Lady Veronica... originally intended to skip it.

As I recalled, Veronica had never been keen on these breakfasts. With yesterday's events and reports of her openly voicing it to Tia in the past, she surely had no desire to report or summarize estate duties to me now.

Yet the meal wouldn't be canceled. It never had been before.

-Click.

"Pardon the intrusion. Your Grace...?"

Tia arrived precisely on time, her eyes widening. It seemed to have the desired effect.

8 a.m. Tia always had a packed schedule. Each morning brought new tasks, requiring her to rise a bit earlier as the days passed. It hadn't been this way when the duchess ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was present, but her absence had created this routine.

The new duke was still unstable, incomplete. In that state, he'd soon be devoured by noble society. The moment Freyvelric's power waned... Tia shook her head. She didn't want to imagine the aftermath.

Focus on what must be done now.

The road was long, but steady steps would suffice. She arrived at the duke's chambers. Only the room had changed; nothing else had.

-From now on, enter without knocking. It's more convenient for me.

With permission granted, she knocked and entered as always.

"Pardon the intrusion. Your Grace...?"

Lifting her head after her greeting, Tia's eyes flashed wide. She knew him better than anyone. She knew best how unstable and incomplete he was.

Three months of instruction, yet it had fallen short. The wall of status was too high to instill so much at once. She'd even thought it might have been easier if he'd merely been a minor border noble.

Intuitively, he showed almost no duke-like demeanor.

-You mustn't hold your posture so awkwardly.

-Uh... like this?

-Your arm is folded wrong. See how the fabric creases? Straighten your shoulders more.

-Isn't this too stiff?

-It's not about stiffness—infuse it with intimidation and dignity. Try again.

Those exchanges were less than three months ago. Mere repetitions over mere months.

Yet before her eyes stood an entirely different man. Despite the awkward posture, the angles and gaze were precise. The suit fit sharply. His golden hair gleamed like a halo against the sunlight from the window, asserting his presence. A proper gentleman sat there, exuding dignity worthy of the title "duke."

Wait, I slipped.

Tia hurriedly bowed her head.

"My apologies, Your Grace. Seeing you so prepared is a first; I couldn't help but be startled."

She'd stared too openly. They were duke and maid, after all. Though he held the position, she must treat him as such. A mistake.

But he seemed unperturbed, even proactively questioning her.

"It seems I've achieved a passable appearance. Still, flaws remain, I presume?"

"...Indeed."

"Point them out coldly. These are things I must master."

"Yes. You'd do well to refine your posture further. And... it seems your intent was to intimidate, yet you didn't correct me immediately, your back isn't fully against the chair, and a few other minor details stand out."

"As expected. More practice is needed."

Aware of his shortcomings, the duke adjusted his posture again. It was still lacking, but in that brief moment, he embodied the dignity befitting the seat of power.

"But, Your Grace. Have you been practicing on the side?"

"Yes. It seemed necessary. I can't falter before the girls every time."

The duke spoke plainly, his expression unchanged.

"If I don't become the duke, their peril grows. It's a natural progression."

He then sternly critiqued himself, advancing meticulously, as if dissecting his own state. The change wasn't merely external.

She noticed it now... but the greatest shift in him was something else.

That practice must have been the hardest.

The barrier of status was surpassed not just by appearance, but by noble speech and rhetoric—far more demanding. Yet the duke wielded it at a truly ducal level, as if ingrained in his daily life.

"Then, let us begin the report. Tia."

No need for praise, he'd said. He'd even asked her to highlight errors. So Tia skipped it.

Either way, it was a positive development.

The usual report time arrived. Tia presented organized documents with the day's duties, omitting no essential schedules.

"When strolling the gardens, note any overgrown weeds and remember to plant seasonal flowers to maintain the landscaping."

The agenda proceeded in order. Items needing personal inspection. Outings merely to show face from a carriage. Various performative tasks commenced in earnest.

Now for the last one.

This wasn't a schedule but an approval.

"Next... this."

-Slide.

"As with other noble houses, servant numbers fluctuate yearly. New ones arrive, old ones depart. Naturally, grueling work leads some to quit, while others join for the family name—each has their story."

Tia continued her explanation.

"But the ducal house can't easily adjust now. As Your Grace knows, we harbor critical secrets."

Indeed. Two secrets that must never leak.

A fact I'd acknowledged before, so I replied the same.

"The duchess's status, I presume."

"Yes. The public knows only that she's recuperating here due to health decline. Hiring or firing servants risks exposure either way."

First: the duchess's condition. The Freyvelrics had deliberately spread only that she was resting at the estate due to illness. To conceal it, servants' mouths needed natural sealing.

"And the second, Your Grace?"

Just as before, I answered smoothly.

"Myself."

"Correct. Your very existence is the second reason."

Yes. The second was me. Because... the duchess hadn't yet announced her supposedly deceased husband's return. And my presence was a closely guarded secret from the current staff. Firing anyone would risk self-exposure.

"You grasp it well, so I'll be brief. Neither hiring nor firing is feasible now. To buy time, a slight salary increase would boost satisfaction. Hence, this approval."

The document was for raising servants' pay.

A prompt demanding I choose acceptance or rejection. The outcomes were kindly listed below, making the obvious pick clear.

But that was merely the visible part. Other paths existed.

"Tia. Instead of raising salaries, what if we improved meal quality?"

"Servants' meals, you mean?"

"Yes. Salaries might boost satisfaction easily, but isn't that too mercenary?"

"Hm... True enough."

"So, let's rethink it. We nobles have money to spare. Servants elsewhere might seek better houses for honor. But this is Freyvelric."

Tia pondered my words.

"No higher honor exists... and money is a crass answer."

"Exactly. Improving meals indirectly shows the master cares for their health and nutrition."

"Some servants would settle for cash alone—insufficient to retain them. But extended, quality mealtimes signal the master's attention uniformly... Plus, the Hasupeln Empire hasn't lost last year's bounty, making food cheaper than salaries this year. Financially advantageous too. An excellent alternative."

As expected, one idea sparked two. One had to be this capable to serve Freyvelric.

Of course, my true aim involved dye, but that was secondary.

"An excellent alternative, but... when did you acquire such insight?"

For a split second, my mouth twitched. Well, this was...

No. Don't dwell.

"...Merely reading the duchess's records. Not my own invention."

"Drawing wisdom from the past is wisdom in the present. I'll keep it brief. May I amend the document here?"

"Proceed."

I gestured to the sofa; Tia quickly revised it.

"Since it came up, join the ladies for breakfast today, Your Grace."

And there it was.