Taking advantage of the servants’ break time, the head maid was idly picking up and eating cookies in the kitchen when she suddenly glanced out the window.
A woman was walking across the garden.
‘Who could that be?’
Squinting, she scanned the woman’s modest attire and wondered if today was the day the new maid was supposed to come for her interview.
Then she tilted her head in confusion as she spotted a little girl hidden beneath the woman’s skirt. She looked to be about seven years old.
‘Where did that child come from?’
She was puzzled, but at any rate, the two, appearing to be mother and daughter, were surely not guests invited by the master. The lord of this great mansion came from an illustrious family, and the people who came to visit him were equally distinguished. By contrast, this mother and daughter had neither carriage nor attendants and were dressed most shabbily.
‘I cannot imagine the doorman letting the wrong person in.’
In any case, there was no one but her to deal with these uninvited visitors. Setting down the cookie she had been eating, she wiped her crumb-dusted hands on her apron and rose to her feet.
When she stepped out to the entrance hall, the unidentified mother and daughter were climbing the steps, passing a fountain adorned with a magnificent carved lion spouting water.
“How may I help you?”
Looking closely at the woman’s face, the head maid’s eyes widened. She recognized her.
“You are…”
A woman with black hair neatly combed and tied back in a tight knot and beautiful pale indigo-violet eyes. Her dainty button nose, charming though ill-suited to her gentle nature, instantly brought the head maid’s memory flooding back.
This was the maid who had vanished seven years ago, fleeing in the dead of night amid a sordid scandal involving the former master of the house.
“I hope you have been well.”
The woman smiled awkwardly.
Unlike the eighteen-year-old girl who had first set foot here, her smile now seemed calmer and more composed.
There was weariness, vigilance, and anxiety in her eyes. She had undoubtedly endured hard years. Yet her resolute gaze remained unchanged.
The head maid quickly composed her expression and folded her arms with a cold look.
“I do not know what you are thinking, coming back here. Are you not aware that the former master passed away not long ago?”
“I am aware. I heard the news.”
“Good heavens, and yet you have the audacity to return? You are shameless.”
As if expecting such a reaction, the woman showed no offense and drew a letter from her breast. Assuming she was presenting a letter of recommendation, the head maid scoffed and looked at her with disdain.
“Whatever your reasons for coming, you would do well to leave before the young master, no, the new master finds you here. There is no one here who would be pleased to see you. Do not delude yourself into thinking you will be taken back. If the master sees you, you will be driven out in utter disgrace.”
But the woman simply unfolded the letter and held it out silently before the head maid for her to read.
Having no intention of reading it, the head maid caught sight of an unexpected phrase and stared at the page. Her eyes widened in shock.
—Ivnia Groznyi is joint proprietor of the Gelendzik family mansion, alongside the heir, Arad Gelendzik.
The woman met her gaze with a composed smile and spoke softly but firmly.
“It states that I have inherited the Gelendzik ducal estate.”
On the verge of exploding at what she took to be an absurd prank, the head maid fell silent as she recognized the signature and seal of the late Duke Gelendzik upon the paper.
The woman, holding her daughter’s hand firmly, looked back at her with steady resolve.
“We have traveled far and are both weary. Will you please step aside so we may enter our home and rest?”
Seven years earlier, this was the dignified return of Ivnia Groznyi, the maid who had fled in the dead of night, concealing her pregnancy from the world to escape vile rumors.
***
Ivnia was shown directly to the reception room by the butler, who informed her that Arad Gelendzik, the new Duke, was away and requested that she wait.
She swallowed hard as she was led not to the ground floor chamber where unannounced visitors were received, but to the reception room on the second floor reserved especially for those granted audience with the master himself.
‘I had expected to be turned away at the door.’
It appeared the butler had recognized the authenticity of the seal upon her letter.
In truth, she had come here full of doubt, wondering if the extraordinary document might be a forgery. She felt a measure of relief; at the very least, she would not be laughed at and cast out.
The reception room was exactly as it had been seven years ago, as though time itself had stood still. Nothing had changed save for the newly replaced seasonal upholstery.
It was the same throughout the entire Gelendzik estate.
The butler stood as straight as ever, older yet otherwise unchanged, as was the head maid. Elegant wall hangings, portraits, floor ornaments, and statues lining the corridors—all appeared frozen in time.
Ivnia could almost believe her years away had been nothing but a dream, and that she had now woken to find herself back in reality.
Then a child’s voice broke the spell.
“Mother, are you quite all right?”
“Ranelli.”
Ivnia looked down at her young daughter, who was her very image, yet upon closer inspection bore subtle, distinct features all her own.
Her hair, neatly parted and tied in two braids, seemed at first as black as her mother’s, yet held a faint reddish glow. Her clear eyes, a warm golden hue, bore a striking resemblance to her father’s—though Ivnia had somehow persuaded herself, and the girl, that they were soft green.
Ranelli wore a grave expression, wise beyond her years. Leaning her head against her mother’s breast, she looked up with concern.
“Are you cold? Your hands are so cold. And your face is pale.”
Realizing she had betrayed her nervousness, Ivnia forced a smile.
“I am perfectly well. Now, Ranelli, what did I tell you to say if anyone asks your age?”
“That I have just turned six.”
“That is right, exactly.”
“But I am seven…”
Ivnia flinched, gently placing a finger to the girl’s lips and glancing toward the door. Assuring herself they were alone, she spoke firmly. The child drew back, eyes wide.
“Children of seven are considered too old to stay always with their mothers. If anyone discovers you are seven, you might be sent away to boarding school while I am here. Do you understand?”
Ranelli nodded, looking frightened.
Ivnia hated to alarm her, yet she saw no other way. She had to invent something frightening to ensure the truth never passed the girl’s lips.
She had her reasons. The girl’s father was here in this house.
If he saw Ranelli, he would count the years and suspect the child was his.
Ivnia trembled at the thought, at the risk of losing Ranelli to him.
‘Get rid of the child. Then all will be as it was between us. As though nothing ever happened.’
‘Not her. Anything but her. I cannot bear that.’
She could still hear his voice, cold and distant, so unlike the man she had loved.
Seven years ago, she had vanished not because of the rumors, but to protect the life growing within her.
He had never wanted a child. If she returned now with his daughter, there would be terrible misunderstandings.
‘I did not want to bring her here, for fear he would harm her…’
She looked down at Ranelli with deep misgiving.
Ivnia had no choice but to bring her daughter here, a secret too great and terrible to share with a soul.
Ranelli clambered onto her mother’s lap. Ivnia held her close and soothed her.
“Mother, when shall we go home?”
“After twenty nights of sleep, we shall return.”
“Twenty whole nights?”
Ranelli counted on her fingers and sighed, a span of time beyond her imagining. Twisting the ribbon at her mother’s chest, she asked:
“Will I be well again after staying here twenty nights?”
Ivnia fell silent, taken aback by the question, then smiled gently.
“Why do you ask that, my love?”
“I heard you speaking to Grandmother. You said there was a way to make me better, and that we must leave at once.”
She had overheard Ivnia speaking to her mother the night before they left for Gelendzik.
“I thought you were fast asleep.”
“I woke up when I heard my name. Will I really be well again?”
“I intended to tell you more once we were certain.”
Ivnia considered how best to explain things in terms a child might understand.
Ranelli was ill, afflicted with a cruel hereditary sickness that slowly consumed the mind. Though still mild, the symptoms would worsen, and eventually madness would take hold.
Yet Ivnia clung fiercely to the belief that Ranelli could be cured.
It was said to be incurable, but she knew of one person who had inherited the affliction and yet lived a whole, healthy life.
Ranelli’s father.
And that was the other secret, the reason she dared bring her daughter here, at such risk.
‘I do not care for the estate itself.’
She did not know why the late Duke had bequeathed it to her. He had been known as an eccentric, and his motives were beyond her understanding.
She had not come trusting entirely in the inheritance, nor for the wealth itself.
She had come to see him with her own eyes, Ranelli’s father, living a normal life and to find hope for a cure. The letter was no more than a pretext, a means to return.
Bearing this heavy truth alone, Ivnia smiled brightly, letting no shadow of worry show.
“Ranelli, there is medicine hidden in this beautiful house that can make you well. That is why we have come, to find it. Once we do, you will never be sick again.”
Her voice was soft as a fairy tale. Ranelli’s eyes widened as she pictured her mother searching the great mansion for a secret cure.
“Truly?”
“Truly. But it is very large, so it may take time. While we are here, we must keep our secret.”
Ranelli pressed a finger to her lips and whispered:
“About my age, and about being sick? I shall not tell a soul. I shall say I am six.”
“Shall we make a promise?”
Ivnia held out her little finger. Ranelli’s small one curled trustingly around it.
At that moment, a low voice cut through their quiet pact.
“So you have returned, Ivnia.”