I had to talk to Kayla about this situation as soon as possible. It did not matter whether she would get angry or not. The important thing was for her to learn the truth.
After all, Kayla had to understand what Irene was going through. She had to see how hard things were for her younger sister... and that she could no longer simply close her eyes to it.
And, to be honest, I myself could no longer calmly watch what was happening. Pretending that nothing had happened felt wrong.
I had to do something for this family.
So I firmly decided: I would talk to Kayla the very next day, during the purification procedure. I even rehearsed in my head how exactly I would start the conversation, choosing my words, structuring my phrases.
I truly thought I had thought everything through.
But...
As is usually the case, reality decided otherwise.
The next morning, I had just woken up and barely had time to get myself ready when a noise came from the first floor. Sharp. Loud. And all too familiar.
My heart clenched unpleasantly.
Without a second thought, I rushed out of my room and almost ran down the stairs.
And then I froze.
Before me unfolded a scene that took my breath away for a moment.
Irene. And Mrs. Farris.
And between them — an obvious conflict.
"...Stupid maid!" Irene shouted, trying to break free from the nanny’s grip, who was holding her tightly by the wrist. "How many times do I have to tell you that I am not going anywhere?!"
"Lady Irene..." Mrs. Farris’s voice trembled, but she did not let go. "You cannot miss the academy for the third day in a row! You know the rules... you could be expelled for this!"
"So what?!" The girl’s eyes flashed. "I do not care!"
"But... this is your future! Your education! You cannot just give it all up!"
"I do not care!"
"Please..." The old woman’s voice now sounded desperate. "Go just for today! Even for just one lesson! If it is too hard, I will pick you up right after it..."
"I told you to leave me alone!" Irene snapped, and her voice echoed through the hall. "How many times do I have to repeat it?! Let go! Leave me alone!"
In the end, this scene pained me as much as the one I had witnessed not long ago.
And it seemed that now Irene was even angrier than she had been then...
I pressed my lips together for a moment.
If things went the same way as last time...
Irene might lose control again.
Fearing that the previous incident would repeat itself and that she would actually hit Mrs. Farris, who was already holding on by a thread, I hastened to intervene.
"...Lady Irene," I said, stepping forward, "please calm down!"
I quickly approached and, without hesitation, stepped between them, shielding Mrs. Farris with myself. Behind my back, the old woman flinched — her face was wet with tears, and her hands shook so badly she could barely keep her balance.
But Irene’s reaction...
Was instantaneous.
The moment she saw me, her anger seemed to flare up anew.
"It is you...!" she hissed through her teeth. "What are you doing here? This is none of your business!"
"I heard the noise," I answered calmly, trying not to add fuel to the fire. "You were shouting so loudly that it seems the whole house heard it. Perhaps you could explain what is going on? Let us talk calmly."
Irene’s amber eyes narrowed dangerously.
"That is none of your business!" she snapped abruptly. "Get out of here. Right now!"
"My lady," I did not move from my spot, "perhaps we could just talk first? Tell me what is bothering you. Maybe I can help."
Irene flared up even more.
"Why should I discuss anything with you?!" Her voice broke. "You are nobody! Just a hired worker! Get out and stop bothering me!"
"I can leave, but first you promise me that you will stop shouting and try to talk calmly with Mrs. Farris."
"You!" She trembled with anger. "Who do you think you are to order me around?!"
"My lady, I..."
"Shut up!" she screamed, covering her ears with her palms. "I do not want to listen to you! I do not want to!"
The shouting continued, Irene thrashed and stomped her feet, and it seemed this chaos would never end. But sooner or later, such a noise could not go unnoticed and was bound to attract someone’s attention. And it did.
"...What is going on here?" came a cold, impassive voice from above.
I turned around and saw Butler Gerald. He was hurrying down the stairs, maintaining his dignity, and his gray eyes behind his thick glasses sparkled with displeasure.
"Her Grace is still asleep," he continued, lowering his voice to an icy whisper. "So why are you making such a racket here?"
As soon as the old butler appeared on the scene, the shouting stopped in an instant. Such a silence fell that you could hear the wind tapping against the window.
I noticed how Irene, who a moment ago had been ready to tear me apart with her gaze, suddenly faltered. Apparently, compared to ordinary servants, this man commanded some respect from her. And Gerald himself had a very formidable and cold look that made even me, an adult woman, uncomfortable. Not to mention a child.
As soon as the butler joined us, a tense silence settled over the hall. The old man was the first to break the silence: he frowned, gave us all a long, searching look, and asked a question that brooked no objection:
"So, will someone explain to me exactly what you have been doing here? I am waiting."
Apparently, I was the only one who had maintained enough composure at that moment to speak up.
So in the end, it was I who explained:
"Lady Irene is upset because she does not want to go to the academy. Mrs. Farris and I were trying to calm her down, that is all."
It was an honest answer.
I spoke these words, even though I could feel Irene’s practically tangible, scorching gaze on the back of my neck. The girl seemed to want to burn a hole through me, but she remained silent.
After my explanation, the butler’s gray eyes narrowed even more.
"And that is the only reason?" he asked coldly. "You caused such a commotion throughout the house just because of that?"
"Um..."
Nevertheless, at that moment, Irene suddenly twitched. She lunged forward and, to my complete astonishment, rushed to Gerald, hiding behind his back.
"Gerald!" Her voice, which a moment ago had been rough and angry, now turned capricious and whiny. "These insolent servants dared to treat me disrespectfully! They grabbed me and shouted at me! I demand that you punish them! Immediately!"
She pointed at us with a trembling finger, an expression of wounded dignity frozen on her face. Mrs. Farris turned completely pale at these words, clutching her heart. As for me, a bad feeling also began to creep in.
After all, until this moment, I had had no doubt which side the butler would take. Of course, he would support the young lady of this house. That was logical. The old man would listen to her and, perhaps, actually punish us in some way, although, to be honest, Mrs. Farris and I had not done anything wrong.
Were attempts to reason with a capricious child considered a crime?...
In any case, a heavy pause hung in the air. We all froze, holding our breath, awaiting the verdict of the second most important person in this house.
And finally, Gerald spoke.
"...Lady Irene," his voice was quiet, "it seems to me that the disrespectful behavior just now was yours."
"What?" Irene stared at him as if he had struck her.
"You allowed yourself to shout throughout the house and make such scenes, which is entirely unbecoming of a noble lady," he continued, without raising his voice. "Therefore, my lady, it is you who should seek an excuse for your behavior."
After these unexpected words, Irene’s sweet little face instantly flushed crimson — whether from shame or anger. She recoiled from the old man as if from fire, and genuine, deep hurt flickered in her eyes.
"You...!" Her voice trembled. "Gerald, how dare you speak to me like that?! You are... you are supposed to be on my side!"
"My lady," the butler enunciated coldly, "I am on the side of order in this house. And you would do well to learn to speak according to your status."
"How dare you...!" Irene shook with anger. "Gerald, you are just a servant too! You have no right to speak to me like that!"
"My lady, if you intend to continue shouting here," his voice turned icy, "I cannot allow that. You will wake Her Grace. And I cannot permit that."
"...What?!"
"Please, shout and throw tantrums as much as you like in your own room," he said calmly. "There, you will not disturb anyone."
And then something completely unexpected happened.
The butler suddenly bent down, effortlessly scooped Irene into his arms as easily as if she weighed no more than a feather, and with the same imperturbable expression, headed up the stairs.
Mrs. Farris and I froze, literally struck dumb by what we saw.
Irene kicked desperately, flailed her legs in the air, pounded her little fists against his back, but the old man did not even change his expression.
"Gerald! Let go!" she screamed. "How dare you treat me like this?! I will have you thrown out! Thrown out, do you hear?!"
"You had better calm down, my lady," his even voice floated down from above. "Shouting will get you nothing anyway."
Somewhere upstairs, a door slammed, and the shouting subsided, turning into muffled, stifled sobs.
The old woman and I stood downstairs for a long time, exchanging puzzled glances.
"Well... that was..."
"Yes... that was... a bit unexpected."
Our thoughts, it seemed, were completely aligned at that moment.
None of us had expected Butler Gerald to act in such a way, and from the outside, it looked shocking. But, on the other hand... perhaps he was right? Sometimes children need not softness, but a firm hand. Sometimes they just need to know that there are boundaries that cannot be crossed, even in anger.
I swallowed quietly and suddenly thought: perhaps now was the right time to do something. Not to run to Kayla, as I had initially planned, but... to try to talk to Irene herself.
With that in mind, after a while, when the last sounds of struggle had died down upstairs, I went up to the second floor, approached her room, and, gathering my courage, knocked softly.
"Lady Irene... May I come in?"