Irene had indeed struck her nanny.
It happened right before my eyes — and at the sight, I literally froze in place.
I had not witnessed the beginning of their argument, only its peak: the girl’s small fist suddenly shot up and hit the old woman in the face with a dull thud as she tried to restrain her.
Mrs. Farris gasped softly and recoiled, pressing her palm to her cheek. She said nothing — only her lips trembled, and her gaze dropped downward, as if she were ashamed of even this moment itself.
Irene, however, looked at her nanny quite differently.
Her eyes blazed with anger, resentment, and stubbornness — so strong that I barely recognized in this angry girl the same little angel with the doll-like face I had met a few days ago.
"...I am not going anywhere!" she shouted in a voice trembling with fury. "And do not even try to make me!"
With these words, Irene spun around sharply and dashed up the stairs.
Of course, on the way, she ran into me — I was still standing in the middle of the steps, as if rooted to the spot, unable to go either up or down.
But Irene herself seemed not to pay it any mind. She merely glanced at me briefly with an unfriendly look and then ran past without slowing her pace. Her shoes thudded loudly on the steps, and a few seconds later, a door slammed forcefully upstairs.
And then silence fell over the mansion.
Heavy. Ringing.
It took me a few more moments to recover from what I had seen.
Irene... this little girl with huge eyes and an angelic face... Had she really just raised her hand against her own nanny?
Of course, I had understood before that behind her sweet appearance hid a far from easy character. But still... I could never have imagined she would go this far.
That this fragile, little girl could actually hit someone.
But perhaps even more shocked than I was Mrs. Farris herself.
After her charge left, the old woman remained standing motionless in the middle of the living room, as if not fully comprehending what had happened. Her shoulders slumped, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor.
Only then did I notice that Irene’s school bag lay nearby. Textbooks, notebooks, and a pencil case were scattered across the carpet in complete disarray. And that was enough to roughly understand what had happened here.
Irene did not want to go to the academy.
The nanny tried to persuade her.
And in the end, the argument ended... like this.
I cautiously descended the stairs and approached.
"Mrs. Farris..." I called softly. "What happened here?"
The old woman flinched, as if only now noticing my presence. She hastily looked away, as if she were uncomfortable meeting my eyes.
"Ah... Miss Rider, it is you?" Her voice trembled slightly, although she was clearly trying to speak calmly. "No, nothing special... Just a little trifle."
"But I heard shouting," I objected. "And I saw Lady Irene hit you! That does not seem like a ’trifle’ at all."
After my words, Mrs. Farris sighed heavily.
There was no point in denying what had happened — I had seen too much. And yet even now, she spoke of the incident with obvious reluctance, as if trying to protect Irene until the very end.
"As I said... nothing serious," she repeated quietly. "The young lady simply does not want to go to the academy. Children can be stubborn sometimes."
"So stubborn that they start raising their hands against others?" I could not help but let indignation slip into my voice. "Forgive me, Mrs. Farris, but is that normal?"
The old woman flinched noticeably, as if my words had hurt her far more than the blow itself.
"Miss Rider... you yourself know that the young lady has a difficult character..." she said almost guiltily.
"Yes, but that does not mean she is allowed to hit people," I frowned. "Tell me honestly... has Lady Irene done this sort of thing before?"
After this question, the woman fell silent.
Her fingers nervously clutched the edge of her apron, her gaze again slid away, and her shoulders seemed to droop even lower. She clearly did not want to answer.
But I waited patiently.
I was not going to pressure her or force her to speak against her will. But I was not going to back down either.
Because no matter how much I adored Irene and no matter how easily I forgave her whims, rudeness, or outbursts of temper... even that had a limit.
Hitting her own nanny — the person who had cared for her since childhood — that was too much!
I did not want Kayla’s younger sister to grow up into someone capable of hurting those who genuinely loved her.
I did not want this sweet child to gradually turn into someone cruel and embittered.
Mrs. Farris was silent for a few more seconds before finally sighing heavily.
"Sometimes..." the woman answered with great reluctance. "But it does not happen very often. Only when the young lady is truly very angry."
I fell silent for a while, thinking.
But this was only about school...
What could be happening at the academy that made Irene resist so fiercely even the thought of going there? Was someone bullying her? Or was studying difficult for her? Or perhaps... the reason lay in something else entirely?
In the end, I decided to ask directly:
"Mrs. Farris... please tell me, why does Lady Irene not want to go to the academy?"
After my question, the old woman’s face darkened noticeably.
A deep furrow appeared between her brows, and her lips pressed into a thin line. And this time, I immediately understood: she was not going to answer as easily as before.
On the contrary — it was as if she had instantly closed herself off from me.
"Miss Rider..." the nanny hesitated, clearly choosing her words. "This is quite a personal matter. And I am not sure I have the right to discuss such things. Forgive me... but I cannot simply tell you about it like that."
It was said in a calm but dry tone — the kind that usually ends a conversation, leaving no room for further questions.
After that, Mrs. Farris quickly bent down and began gathering Irene’s belongings scattered on the floor. Textbooks, notebooks, pencil case — one by one, everything disappeared back into the bag. Her movements were surprisingly dexterous and hurried, as if she wanted to occupy her hands with anything, just to avoid continuing this conversation.
A minute later, the bag was fastened and clutched tightly in her hands.
The old woman straightened up, and I immediately understood: she was about to leave.
No... rather, to run away. From my questions. From the need to explain anything.
"Miss Rider," she said, avoiding looking me in the eyes, "with that, I think I will be going. And... thank you for your concern. Truly."
With these words, the woman hurriedly headed to the stairs and went up to the second floor, clutching the bag to her chest. Her footsteps sounded rushed, and within a few seconds, she had disappeared around the corner of the corridor.
I remained standing in the middle of the hall, thoughtfully watching her go.
Everything inside me was boiling.
Now that I had accidentally witnessed this scene, I could no longer simply pretend nothing had happened and calmly return to my own affairs.
Even if Mrs. Farris did not want to talk to me. Even if she had left, leaving behind only more questions.
I was still going to get to the bottom of it.
Whatever was happening with Irene — I intended to find out!
After all... I had already meddled enough in this family’s life.
So why should I be afraid to meddle even deeper?
***
The next day, I left Kayla’s room right after finishing the purification.
And, to be honest, my mood was simply wonderful.
No, seriously... after meeting my beloved character, how could it be otherwise?
What made me even happier was the fact that I had still not been killed. Or even dismissed!
Although after that nighttime stunt, I had indeed started to worry about my future in this house, it seemed that everything had somehow worked out. And I had little doubt that Butler Gerald had a hand in it.
The old man, despite all his dislike for me, still knew how to look at the situation soberly.
And he understood perfectly well that my dismissal would bring his mistress far more harm than good.
So, it seemed, he had ultimately managed to convince Kayla as well. It surely had not been easy... but the main thing was the result.
I could still stay in this house!
I could still see Kayla every day!
And just the thought of this made my heart feel wonderfully warm.
Ah... how many more happy days by my beloved character’s side awaited me?..
Just thinking about it made my heart start beating faster.
But I tried my best to remain calm. Composed. Professional. Being near Kayla, touching her during the purification, I repeatedly reminded myself: I was not a pervert.
I was not a pervert.
I was not...
Just then, the flow of my happy thoughts suddenly stopped.
Because as I headed down the stairs, I noticed Mrs. Farris below. Irene’s nanny was standing in the hall already dressed to go out — in a dark cloak and street dress — and, it seemed, was about to leave somewhere.
Before she could leave, I hurriedly called out to her:
"Mrs. Farris!"
Suddenly hearing my voice, the old woman turned around in surprise and saw me quickly descending the stairs toward her.
"Miss Rider?.." A slight bewilderment sounded in her voice.
"Good afternoon," I greeted, slightly out of breath after the descent. "Are you going somewhere?"
The woman blinked in surprise, then slowly nodded.
"...Ah, yes."
In any case, it was not hard to guess. Mrs. Farris was already dressed to go outside the estate — in a warm cloak and a simple street dress. And in her hands was a roomy shopping bag, clearly not intended for an ordinary walk in the garden.
And, as it turned out, I was not mistaken.
"...Today is my day off," the old woman explained with slight awkwardness. "So I decided to go into town and take care of some errands while I am at it."
"Day off?" I asked, frowning slightly. "But today is a weekday. Do you not need to accompany Lady Irene to school?"
"Well... um... that is..." The woman noticeably hesitated and looked away. "The young lady is not going to classes again today."
"What?" I blinked in surprise. "Why?"
This was beginning to look strange.
Irene had skipped school for the second day in a row...
And that brought back an unpleasant anxiety within me.
"...Surely Lady Irene is not ill?" I asked quickly, feeling my heart clench worriedly.
"Oh no, not at all!" Mrs. Farris hurriedly waved her hands, as if frightened by my conclusions. "The young lady is perfectly fine. She simply... does not want to go to the academy."
...Does not want to go?
But that only made things look even more suspicious.
Why was Irene so desperately avoiding school?
I involuntarily pressed my lips together, feeling the anxiety inside me grow stronger and stronger.
Nevertheless, the moment I looked at Mrs. Farris’s face, I immediately understood: as before, she was not going to explain anything directly. The old woman was too devoted to her charge to discuss her problems with an outsider.
So I decided to act differently.
"Mrs. Farris," I began as casually as possible, "in that case... you would not mind if I came along with you, would you?"
"...What?" The old woman stared at me with genuine surprise.
"I have already finished treating Her Grace for today," I explained. "So I have no more business. And sitting in my room all day staring at the ceiling is rather boring. So I thought it would be nice to get some air and go into town."
"..."
Mrs. Farris pressed her lips together slightly.
Her face showed that the proposal had caught her off guard. It seemed she had not at all planned to take anyone with her, but on the other hand, refusing me directly would probably have been awkward.
I just smiled softly and added:
"Besides, it is always more fun together. And I can help carry the heavy bags!"
The old woman was silent for a few more seconds, clearly hesitating, and then finally gave in.
"Well... if you really want to... Then of course, we can go together."
I nearly beamed with joy.
Excellent!
"Then I will change quickly and be down in five minutes!" I announced happily and, without waiting for an answer, almost ran back to my room.
A day off in town with Mrs. Farris?
To be honest, I had a feeling this trip could prove very interesting.