Eventually, the Female Lead Ran Away (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15

“I never want to lose Debbie again.”

Afraid Deborah might sense his feelings, Zen suppressed his emotions and spoke lightly.

“Well, alright. I did promise to have whatever you wanted for breakfast, so I should keep my word. It’s not exactly difficult either.”

“Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease.”

Deborah gave a cheerful smile. Staring straight at that smile, Zen spoke.

“However, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember what I said two days ago?”

Zen twisted the corner of his lips in an unpleasant manner.

Come to think of it, asking if she remembered something he’d said two days ago? It was impossible to recall every word Zen had spoken, but she had a good idea which specific statement he was referring to.

[You went through the interview, and I chose the candidate I liked. I’ve already finalized the schedule. And now you say you don’t want to work? That means I’ll have to call all the applicants back and waste even more of my precious time. Who’s going to compensate me for that loss?]

Zen had certainly said those exact words.

‘Guess he was rather shocked. It’s coming back to me vividly.’

Back then, she’d been too flustered to respond properly, but today was different. She’d had plenty of time to think and was now calm and collected.

With a relaxed smile, Deborah opened her mouth.

“Mr. Baker—am I obligated to compensate you for that loss?”

Zen’s arrogant smile vanished instantly. Stripped of that smirk, his face oddly resembled that of an innocent young man rather than a cunning, cold-hearted noble.

“I haven’t signed any contract, nor have we made a verbal agreement.”

Just as Deborah had said, she bore no such obligation. Did Zen not know this? Of course he did. He understood it perfectly well.

“Of course, you could always file a lawsuit against me for damages—but even if you seized every last possession of a lowly working-class widow like me, it wouldn’t cover even a fraction of your claimed loss. Unless, of course, you intend to throw me in prison.”

Deborah chuckled softly, cheerfully uttering those threatening words.

‘Still, he’s staring at me so intently.’

Deborah assumed Zen couldn’t take his eyes off her simply because he found her audacity baffling.

“Anyway, when may I sign the employment contract?”

Her voice was steady, her back straight, and her hands clasped modestly before her. Her eyes, clear and kind, unmistakably belonged to someone who firmly rejected any hint of impropriety.

Everything about her declared she was not weak.

‘Though truthfully, for someone so delicate—so small and frail—’

Yet Deborah never hesitated to throw herself into danger for those weaker than herself.

Zen’s mouth felt so bitter it was as if his tongue were burning. If only he could touch Deborah’s neatly folded hands, this torment would vanish without a trace—but he dared not even hope for that.

He knew all too well such a thing would never be permitted until everything was resolved.

“…”

Zen closed his eyes tightly, then slowly lifted his eyelids.

“The butler will return soon, and I’ll give you the official employment contract then. Your salary will be increased as well.”

“No, the pay is already sufficient. Honestly, five hundred crowns is far more than my experience warrants.”

“After serving the Marchioness of Forea?”

When Deborah’s lips parted slightly in speechless surprise, Zen allowed himself a satisfied smile.

“Your duties have increased, so naturally your compensation should too.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Just as it seemed Zen had finished speaking, he opened his lips once more.

“Oh, and just so you know—your salary calculation began two days ago.”

“What? That’s unnecessary. It should start from the day I sign the contract and officially begin work…”

“Didn’t I say I’d hire you that day? I keep my word. Unlike certain people, I’m not petty.”

Zen spoke, twisting his lips bitterly. Deborah swallowed a dry laugh.

“Which of my actions seemed petty to you?”

“Do you really not know? Bringing up Lady Saint’s name like that?”

“It wasn’t just for show.”

“Go deceive someone else. I know better than anyone that she isn’t nearly as kind as you claim.”

“Surely not. The lady is exceedingly kind.”

“Ha! So it wasn’t that you deceived me—you were the one deceived.”

Deborah didn’t mind Zen’s crooked smile directed at her, but she disliked how he belittled the gentle Lady Saint. Though not enough to lose her temper over it.

“Anyway, are those the terms then? You don’t want anything else from me?”

Zen pressed the question forcefully.

“I thought I’d made such an excessive request that you could call me arrogant and I’d have no defense…”

Deborah felt she’d already achieved her goal, but before she could finish her sentence, she realized she had another favor to ask.

“…but.”

She awkwardly concluded her sentence.

Zen quirked an eyebrow, his usual arrogant smirk playing on his lips with evident amusement.

‘Well, that was foolish of me to say just now.’

Deborah grew slightly embarrassed, while Zen seemed quietly pleased.

“Yes? ‘I thought, but…’?”

Deborah diligently ignored the rising tide of embarrassment within her and spoke.

“Now that I’m part of this household, I’d like to get along well with the other staff.”

It was the last thing Zen expected to hear. Frowning slightly, he mulled over Deborah’s words before asking with a stern expression.

“Is someone making you uncomfortable?”

Deborah replied quickly.

“No! Ms. Shelley, who’s been caring for me these past few days, and even the Head Chef, whom I haven’t met yet, have both treated me very kindly.”

“Then why bring this up all of a sudden?”

All of a sudden. Deborah swallowed a bitter smile before replying.

“They’ve been far too generous. I’m no longer a guest—I’m now an employee here.”

She continued politely.

“Would it be possible for me to meet the Head Maid? I’d like to greet her, discuss my schedule, and arrange to move to my new room.”

In other words, Deborah intended to live alongside the other staff—eating in the same dining hall, sleeping in shared quarters, and socializing with them, even if her duties differed.

Zen, who understood her meaning all too clearly, replied indifferently.

“So that’s why you went on about how ‘arrogant’ I’d be to call you that—just to make this request?”

“…”

“I’m truly astounded…”

Zen let out a deep sigh and turned his head slightly.

“Apparently, Lady Saint didn’t mention this either—we have no Head Maid. The butler manages everything, but as I said earlier, he’s currently away on business.”

He straightened his head and continued.

“I told you the butler oversees all Baker household staff—but you’re the exception.”

“Pardon?”

“Your duties are fundamentally different from theirs, aren’t they? So you’ll report directly to me.”

Deborah nodded in understanding. Watching her, Zen added calmly.

“And you won’t be mingling with the other staff.”

“Pardon?”

Deborah’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why not?”

“Superiors and subordinates aren’t meant to grow close. The closer they get, the more uncomfortable things become, not less. So if you truly care for them, it’s best to maintain distance—just as you are now. And you’ll keep your current room.”

Deborah was speechless.

“I’m not their superior. Even tutors in noble households usually live alongside the staff. Even if they have private rooms, they’re rarely as nice as the one I’m using now…”

“Other households may operate that way. But here, I set the rules.”

Zen lifted his chin as he spoke.

‘He really won’t let me get another word in.’

Deborah fell silent, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

Noticing her discomfort, Zen asked,

“Is this unpleasant for you?”

“Yes.”

Deborah answered without hesitation, prompting Zen to give a soft chuckle—an ordinary smile, devoid of arrogance.

‘Goodness. So he can smile like that too.’

Deborah admired his handsome features once more—discreetly, of course.

“You’re quite odd yourself. Anyone else would pray every night to keep receiving such treatment.”

“It wouldn’t benefit me to accept what I don’t deserve.”

“Undeserved? Why is it undeserved?”

“Because I’m a commoner—and a widow of a maidservant, at that.”

Anyone on the street could confirm it: they’d be astonished that Deborah was enjoying such extraordinary fortune.

Yet the master of the house—and Deborah’s employer—clearly disliked her answer.

“Nonsense. Worthiness isn’t decided by such things.”

Zen fixed her with a sharp, piercing glare.

‘Hmm. I’m not so sure.’

Deborah disagreed. Equality was right in principle, but this era made such ideals rather unrealistic.

‘Besides, it’s not convincing coming from someone who mocked my station this very morning.’

She smiled calmly and said,

“Please, can you understand my situation? I truly wish to get along well with everyone.”

“Don’t worry. Everyone will treat you well.”

For some reason, Deborah heard his words as, “I’ll make sure of it.”

‘Hmm… I must be imagining things.’

Just as Deborah hoped she’d misunderstood, Zen added coolly,

“If you truly find it unbearable, I suppose there’s no choice. I’ll have to dismiss your assigned maid.”