Philippe watched her reaction, his dark eyes narrowing slightly at how easily she cowered. His tail rested still against his chair, his icy voice dropping an octave as he looked at her frail, trembling frame.
"You apologize too much," Philippe said coldly. "You may be a lowly human, but you are our wife in name now. Do not act like a servant."
Blair pursed her lips tightly, still clutching the faded hem of her shirt. "I know I was wrong... so I have to apologize."
"Who said you were wrong?" Lukas asked, clicking his tongue in irritation. His white fox ears twitched violently as he rolled his eyes. "The constant apologizing is getting annoying. It’s just clothes. Why are you even apologizing?"
"I’m sorry, I—" Instinct kicked in before she could stop herself. The moment the word slipped past her lips, her eyes widened in absolute panic. She tried to scramble and cover up her mistake with the exact same mistake: "Sorry! No—I mean, sorr—"
Realizing she was about to apologize for apologizing, Blair slammed both hands over her mouth, her eyes darting downward nervously. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She was messing up, completely getting on their nerves, and making everything ten times worse.
Pfft.
A quiet sound broke the heavy silence.
Blair’s eyes snapped up. Philippe had his hand resting near his jaw, a tiny, rare smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as a low laugh escaped his chest. It lasted for barely a second before his face went completely stoic again, returning to his usual icy, impenetrable expression as if nothing had happened.
Lukas stared at her for a moment, then let out a sharp, dramatic huff, pointing a finger directly at her.
"Human wife," Lukas declared, his fox ears flicking upward with a hint of begrudging amusement. "You’re funny."
Blair stood frozen, her hands still covering her mouth, completely bewildered as the tense air suddenly transformed into something unexpectedly light.
"I’ve got to get to work now," Lukas said, glancing down at his watch before adjusting his coat collar.
"Me too," Philippe added quietly, shifting his high-tech wheelchair toward the main exit.
Even though nobody asked her to, Blair reflexively stepped forward and followed them toward the double doors at the entrance, trying her best to fulfill the role of a proper, standard housewife.
Standing near the grand entrance, she pressed her hands together in front of her skirt, her timid voice barely carrying over the quiet hum of the foyer.
"Have... have a good day at work," she murmured slowly, soft and polite.
"Sure," Lukas replied casually, his fox tail flicking once behind him as he stepped outside.
Philippe simply gave a small nod of his head with a faint, low hum, his expression stoic as his chair rolled past her. Sebastian, walking a few steps behind, merely glanced at her through the corner of his eye, leaving without uttering a single word.
Click.
The front doors shut, leaving the massive mansion completely silent.
Blair stood alone in the grand hallway, letting out a long, quiet breath. She looked around the expansive space. If she wanted to survive here—and if she wanted to truly earn her place and build up her life points—she couldn’t just guess what they liked.
She needed to know their habits, their daily routines, their triggers, and what their bodies needed.
Her eyes landed on Butler Thomas, who stood near the side hall with his hands folded neatly behind his back.
Blair walked over to him with soft, determined steps. "Thomas?"
"Yes, Mrs. Deruno?" the butler replied, bowing politely.
"Could you... help me?" Blair asked quietly, her clear eyes looking up at him with earnest sincerity. "I want to learn everything about them. Their daily schedules, their habits, and what bothers them most. I already learned about their diet from Chef Henderson, but I believe these details, you know them best. I want to make sure I don’t disturb them... and that I can take proper care of them."
Thomas looked down at her fragile face, noting the genuine warmth and dedication in her eyes. After a brief pause, a subtle, respectful smile touched the corner of his lips.
"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Deruno," Thomas said softly. "Follow me to the study, and I will share everything you need to know."
He took a step forward, but then paused. "Wouldn’t you like to change first, Mrs. Deruno?" Thomas asked gently, glancing down at her faded, thin rags.
Blair looked down at her clothes and gave a sheepish, modest wave of her hand. "Oh, I’ll get to that later. Right now, learning how to take proper care of them is more important."
Thomas’s eyes softened with quiet approval, and he led her directly to his private office near the study. What was meant to be a brief overview quickly turned into a deep, engrossing lesson. Blair opened her notebook, hanging onto every single detail Thomas shared.
She jotted down their subtle habits, the things that irritated them most, their specific allergies, and the tiny physical cues that showed when they were pushing past their limits. Time flew by without her even noticing.
She ate her meal, something prepared by chef Henderson specially for her, ordered by Thomas since he knew she would be at it for a while, given how focused she was.
After the meal, she went back to learning, and even went into the history of the Derunos, just to know the family she married into better.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sudden sound broke Blair’s concentration.
She turned toward the doorway and blinked in surprise. Standing behind Thomas was a maid dressed in a sharp, shadow-gray uniform. Blair hadn’t even realized the mansion had other house staff beside Thomas and Henderson.
Unlike the noisy, visible servants in high-society dramas, these maids moved like ghosts—almost invisible, slipping through the mansion’s vast shadows only when strictly necessary... For the convenience of the masters they served.
"Mr. Thomas," the maid reported in a low, respectful voice, her chin tucked. "Miss Maya has arrived in the main parlor. She is accompanied by Miss Vivian Hartfield and another guest."