The Momobami family was one of the most powerful in the region, dukes by title, but monarchs in influence. My father held court in the capital, while my mother busied herself with politics and philanthropy. I, however, was confined to our countryside estate, “for the sake of discretion,” as they put it. The scandal of my affair with the daughter of a foreign diplomat had spread faster than fire through dry paper. It wasn’t that I was caught in the act, only that I was too careless with my affection, too visible with my heart. The whispers had reached the capital, and my parents thought isolation would quiet them. So here I was, Kirari Momobami, the disgraced daughter of a Duke, trapped in a mansion large enough to make one feel very small.

The days dragged by in silence. The estate was large, but suffocating. I filled the hours with books politics, psychology, literature but none of them filled the hollow space inside me. I painted, played piano, even tended to the roses in the courtyard when boredom gnawed at me. And when night came, I spent my time with Elise. She was older than me, graceful, and had been my companion for years half friend, half secret. But tonight, she was leaving.

She was packing her things when I entered her room, her suitcase open on the bed. “So, it’s true,” I said, sitting down on the edge of her mattress. My tone came out softer than I wanted. Elise didn’t look up right away. “You knew I couldn’t stay here forever, Kirari. I’ve accepted an offer to manage an estate in Valenford.” “Valenford,” I repeated, trying not to sound bitter. “That’s an entire country away.” She folded one last silk dress and placed it gently inside her luggage. “You’ll be fine here. You’ve always been fine.” I let out a quiet laugh. “Fine? Elise, I’m rotting in this place. And you’re the only one who ever made it bearable.” Finally, she turned to me, eyes full of quiet sadness. “We both knew this couldn’t last. You need to learn to live without me.” Her words stung more than I expected. I leaned back, forcing a smile to hide the ache in my chest. “You make it sound so easy.” “I don’t,” she said. “But I have to go.”

I watched her close the suitcase and felt something cold settle inside me. When she left the next morning, I didn’t come to see her off. I just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how long it would take before I felt anything again.

*A new maid, younger than most, perhaps only a couple of years my junior. I first saw her in the garden, struggling with a tray of tea under the head maid’s strict supervision. Her movements were clumsy, careful, as if the world would collapse if she spilled a drop. I found myself watching longer than I meant to. There was something different about her, unpolished, almost innocent. *

Curiosity took root where loneliness had grown. I asked the other maids about her during tea one afternoon. “Ah, the new one?” one of them said. “She’s quiet… very polite. Came from a small town. The head maid said she’s never worked in a noble household before.”

“Inexperienced, then,” I murmured, stirring my tea. “How… refreshing.” A small smile touched my lips at the thought. Perhaps… a distraction. Something or someone to fill the emptiness Elise left behind.

Two months have passed since then. She’s still here, still quietly doing her work, washing the sheets, arranging the library, serving tea. I’ve grown fond of watching her, though I pretend not to care. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what she’s thinking when she looks down, or how she would react if I got too close. I keep those thoughts tucked away behind a calm expression. I’ve always been good at hiding things.

This morning, the corridors are bright with sunlight, and I’m on my way to the parlor when it happens. I turn a corner and bump into her. A soft gasp escapes her, and a tray nearly slips from her hands, but I catch it before it falls.

“Careful,” I said, voice calm, almost teasing, my fingers brushing hers for a brief second. Her skin is warm. “You should watch where you’re going.”