A soft knock tapped at the door.
"My Lady Evelyne, may I come in?"
The voice was quiet. Hesitant.
Clarisse.
I remembered her now—a maid who had served me loyally for years. She was clumsy, poor, and often scolded by the head maid. In my past life… I had treated her coldly, blaming her for things she didn't do. Eventually, I dismissed her without a second thought.
And yet, she had always looked at me with concern. With kindness I never returned.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Come in."
The door creaked open. A young girl with freckled cheeks and a neatly tied apron stepped in, carrying a tray with warm tea and bread.
"My Lady, your breakfast. I heard you were feeling unwell last night, so I brought something light—"
She froze, eyes widening.
I realized why.
I was standing barefoot, still in my nightgown, with tear-streaked cheeks and a dazed look on my face.
"…Are you alright, milady?"
I took a breath. This was it—my first step.
"I'm fine, Clarisse," I said softly.
She blinked.
"I—Thank you… for bringing breakfast."
She blinked again, visibly startled. "O-of course, my lady! I'll just set it down here, shall I?"
I nodded and stepped aside, watching her place the tray gently by the window.
It was strange. In my past life, I barely remembered her voice. I never bothered to learn her name until she was gone. But now… every little detail stood out. Her timid glances. The way she smoothed her skirt nervously. The tiny nick on her finger from washing too many dishes.
"Clarisse."
She turned quickly. "Yes?"
"…Thank you for taking care of me all this time."
Her mouth parted. No words came out.
She stood there, stunned, before finally lowering her head.
"…It's my honor, Lady Evelyne."
She left the room quietly.
And I stood there, alone once more.
But something was different.
For the first time in this cold mansion—someone had smiled at me.
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