Deborah furrowed her brow and tilted her head slightly as she asked.

“Pardon?”

Zen elegantly crossed his long legs and parted his arrogant lips.

“I was thinking of hiring you, no, I have hired you.”

“What do you mean you suddenly hired me?”

“Suddenly? I decided earlier. Surely you noticed that the long line stretching down the hallway had cleanly disappeared?”

Deborah stared at his haughtily curved lips and tried to calm herself.

‘Stay calm. No need to respond in agitation. Just speak slowly.’

Soon regaining her composure, Deborah opened her lips.

“Mr. Baker. As you can see, I am not suitable to be a lady’s maid.”

Traditionally, a lady’s maid should be sensitive to fashion trends and exceptionally beautiful.

The impressive maids that nobles want to hire tend to be older, but they have the experience, connections, and knowledge of gossip that can either delight or trouble the nobility.

If one cannot reach that level, it’s better to hire a young lady’s maid accustomed to change. After all, this is a sensitive time when trends are changing faster than ever before.

However, Deborah didn’t fit into either category. Her appearance might be passable, but that was all.

She was neither a veteran maid familiar with fashion and noble society, nor a young maid likely to be sensitive to trends. Moreover, she was a widow who would have to wear mourning clothes for another year.

Was there any reason to choose such a woman?

‘Not at all.’

Having organized her thoughts once more, Deborah said:

“Surely there are many people better than me. Do you intend to miss out on those options?”

“Hm, I haven’t seen anyone better among those I’ve met so far.”

“There must be someone who would satisfy you among those you haven’t had a chance to interview yet.”

“Well, I glanced over them earlier, and they all seemed much the same.”

Zen replied without avoiding Deborah’s calmly shining eyes. He even smiled as if amused.

“…Let me say again, I’m not suit-”

“Whether you’re suitable or not is for me to decide.”

His golden eyes blazed hotly. This must be how a predator looks at its prey.

Swallowing a sigh, Deborah said:

“Mr. Baker. Please understand my intentions.”

“Well. I don’t know what your intentions are.”

“I am a very inadequate person.”

“Countess Forea’s letter was full of praise for you. If you lower yourself like this, wouldn’t it be insulting the judgment of Countess Forea… no, your ‘Madam Saint’? Is that alright?”

Deborah’s lips parted slightly before closing again. Glancing at those lips before discreetly shifting his gaze to the teacup, Zen continued:

“Anyway…”

Zen moistened his throat with tea. Perhaps he was also moistening his heart.

“You had an interview, and I chose an interviewee I liked. So I’ve cleared all the interview schedules. But now you say you don’t want to work? Then I’ll have to gather interviewees again and forcibly set aside my precious time. Who will bear that loss?”

Zen spoke coldly. Not to be outdone, Deborah deliberately put on a troubled expression to appear pitiful.

In her heart, she wanted to shout, ‘You should bear it, since you sent away the interviewees without finishing the interviews!’ But she couldn’t.

‘Honestly, I didn’t expect him to go this far. Am I some kind of talent he wants to acquire even if he has to threaten me? That can’t be it.’

Zen only took the best of everything. Even Dia, though lacking in ability, had the best face in the kingdom. She also had good lineage.

‘Why is this man so fixated on flawed me?’

Deborah’s mind was in turmoil. But she couldn’t just stay silent.

“Mr. Baker.”

“Yes, speak.”

Deborah belonged to the weaker class in this world, and she was also a wise person. She knew all too well that in ‘most situations’, it was easier to bow her head even if it felt unfair.

But she wasn’t the type to be swept along without saying a word in a frustrating situation. She had to at least struggle to escape.

“Regardless of the interview results, the fact remains that I must return to Madam Saint.”

Deborah’s eyes were unwavering as she spoke.

If Deborah were truly an ordinary successful candidate, she would have had to return home to pack her belongings. She would also need to hand over her current duties. That was common sense.

Of course, Deborah planned to plead with Madam Saint that she couldn’t do this job once she returned, and she was even considering running away if necessary.

‘I hope it doesn’t come to that.’

The reason Deborah was being so difficult was because the story of Zen and Dia was that horrific. To watch it up close with her own eyes? Deborah didn’t have the confidence for that.

At that moment, Zen raised one beautiful eyebrow and asked:

“Is there any particular reason you must make such a long journey?”

“Well, I need to pack my belongings, don’t I?”

“I’ll have someone bring them for you.”

“I have many precious belongings. Things I can’t entrust to others…”

“I’ll have someone even more meticulous than you bring everything, down to the last speck of dust, so don’t worry.”

Deborah was at a loss. She hadn’t expected the conversation to be this impossible.

‘How can he be so selfish!’

Deborah’s head was throbbing, but she didn’t show it.

“But shouldn’t I at least say goodbye to Madam Saint?”

Mirroring her smile, Zen also smiled. Of course, it was far from a peaceful smile.

“That will be taken care of too.”

Deborah, who had been answering readily until now, finally frowned.

Zen looked at her pupils and thought for a moment.

Deborah Johnson. Or Deborah Berker. Her name was common, and her damned surname was common too, but her black hair and black eyes were anything but common.

Brown hair might be unremarkable, but hair as pitch-black as hers was very rare, and as rare as it was, it was attractive.

Her husband probably lovingly grasped that black hair and kissed her lips. Each time, Deborah probably smiled with the ends of her eyebrows drooping as if troubled.

“…”

Zen’s hand clenched tightly. If he had been holding a teacup right now, it would have been pitifully reduced to powder.

“…Deborah.”

In contrast to his grim expression, Zen’s voice calling Deborah’s name was beautiful.

To her, who was blinking quietly, Zen said firmly:

“I’m afraid you cannot leave. Not ever.”

* * *

Recalling Zen’s gaze as he said those words, Deborah shuddered as if she had eaten something sour and shook her head.

“Good grief.”

Why was Zen so obsessed with her? If she had done anything wrong, it was only taking the interview. And she didn’t even think she had done particularly well in it.

‘Could it be because of Madam Saint?’

Was it difficult for him to reject someone recommended by Madam Saint, that is, Countess Forea? A recommendation from Countess Forea would certainly carry that much weight.

‘But during the interview, he sneered at me, saying I was unlucky?’

Her head started to ache. Was it alright for such a sudden storm to hit her life like this?

As Deborah was groaning and holding her forehead, someone knocked on the door.

“Miss. May I come in?”

“Oh, of course.”

The person who came to Deborah’s room was a maid. About twenty years old? Young, but not an entirely youthful face.

As if she had been doing this job for quite some time, the maid knew how to give a gentle smile to a guest, and Deborah responded with a smile of her own.

“Good evening, Miss. We’re about to prepare dinner. Is there any food you like or any ingredients you need to avoid?”

“No! I’m fine without eating.”

The maid looked troubled at Deborah’s refusal.

“Before leaving, the master repeatedly instructed us to take care of everything for you, including your meals, with the utmost sincerity.”

‘Zen did?’

Deborah imagined his face as he would have given orders to the maid, frowning. He must have been strict, telling them not to tarnish the honor of the Baker family.

“I’m sorry. I’m really full.”

Deborah smiled awkwardly as she once again expressed her refusal. She wasn’t lying this time. Deborah really felt like she was about to burst.

* * *

Earlier that afternoon, after arbitrarily deciding everything, Zen had said to Deborah:

“So, please eat for now.”

Zen placed a slice of cake, lavishly topped with rich cream and glistening fruit, onto Deborah’s pristine plate as he spoke.

Deborah stared at the cake without even thinking of picking up her fork. Suddenly eat cake? In this situation?

“Do you dislike cream cake? Then I’ll give you something else.”

“No, that’s not it…”

Deborah didn’t love desserts, but she liked them well enough. Taking a bite of this extravagant treat would make her happy, if only for a moment.

But now wasn’t the time to eat cake. She had no appetite, and her mind was in turmoil.

“Are you uncomfortable because of me, making it difficult to eat?”

Surprised by Zen’s unexpected words, Deborah’s eyes widened.

With her large eyes fixed on him, Zen said:

“I’m afraid I won’t leave until you finish eating this. So give up and eat.”

What nonsense was this? Deborah blinked for a moment. True to his words, Zen was making Deborah uncomfortable right now. But she couldn’t outright admit that he was making her uncomfortable.

“No, I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just-”

“If I were you, I’d start moving my fork before making excuses.”

Cutting off Deborah’s excuse, Zen gestured with his chin towards the mountain of desserts and sandwiches piled on the table and said:

“If you’re going to eat all of this, shouldn’t you start eating quickly?”

Zen really looked like he had no intention of leaving his seat unless Deborah ate.

‘I have no choice.’

Deborah smiled awkwardly and said:

“I’ll eat with gratitude.”

Deborah swallowed the discomfort pooling in her mouth and made room for the cake.