The forest of spring was beautiful as if time had stopped.
Yerpi Deilang walked through the mystical forest along a shallow stream, gazing at a landscape now familiar to her.
All around her, great and small spirits lived and breathed, following Yerpi.
It wasn’t merely the spirits.
The flowing water. The sparkling sunlight.
Even a single blade of grass with dew clinging to it seemed to watch only her.
As if she had become the center of the entire universe.
Walking along the stream, she soon found herself surrounded by thick mist.
Perhaps this was the heart of the spring forest.
There, Yerpi could once again meet the master of this place.
The mysterious spirit who kept calling her through dreams.
It was at that moment when Yerpi’s eyes met those of the deer of spring.
‘Ah.’
Before her eyes, the mystical forest naturally crumbled away.
It was the moment she returned to reality.
An unfamiliar ceiling and a large bed.
Even the wallpaper in soothing green and gold hues.
This was the Duchess’s chamber.
Cool morning breeze drifted in through the window left slightly ajar the night before.
Dawn had now broken over Growen Castle.
Gazing drowsily at the brightening window, Yerpi gradually distinguished dream from reality.
That dream again.
Lately, Yerpi had been dreaming not of the original girl’s tragic life, but of wandering through a new realm—the domain of spring.
‘Why am I having this dream?’
Though it was better than unconsciously experiencing another woman’s sorrowful life, she still couldn’t be certain how to interpret this dream.
Yet she cautiously ventured one guess.
‘Perhaps it’s a hint to meeting the master of spring.’
Though the spirit lands were divided by each season, each domain was vast and immense.
Even past Dukes of Growen could count on one hand those who had met every seasonal master.
Moreover, the masters possessed high intelligence and self-awareness; even if someone sought them across seasons, they could simply vanish at will.
But conversely, that also meant they might choose to reveal themselves first.
‘I should look into this more.’
Specifically, the place she had dreamed of.
But first, she had to face the morning as the Duchess.
Yerpi pulled the cord beside her bed.
Soon after, a light knock came, and the door opened.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
Three maids entered, offering their greetings, their faces different from those who had attended her bath the previous day.
The maids kindly inquired after her well-being.
“Did you rest well? We’ll prepare your washing water right away.”
“We’ve prepared warm towels in advance. Please give me your hands.”
In Growen, a lady’s maid was a treasured role—serving the Duchess directly, acting as her hands and feet.
Such status came with privileges and a touch of power, so the maids were unwilling to miss this rare chance for advancement.
Each region of Growen had noble families who served as advisors to the ruler.
Here too, the gap between nobility and commoners was clearly defined.
Those working in the castle mostly came from minor noble families, their status secure, and some had specifically applied to become castle maids in hopes of becoming the Duchess’s personal attendant.
For those of minor noble blood, serving as the Duchess’s maid was one of the few paths to compete with women of higher noble houses.
‘So this place isn’t so different from the outside world.’
Having lived so long ignored and overlooked, commanding others was unfamiliar to her.
But her belief was that, to hold even a temporary position as Duchess, she must make the effort.
Unconsciously offering a faint smile, Yerpi’s gaze fell upon the window. The curtains hadn’t yet been drawn, and sunlight filtering through the gap cast a long line across the brown carpeted floor.
‘It would be nice to let the sunlight in.’
Growen’s center boasted clear skies and mild temperatures, unlike the imperial capital.
To Yerpi, accustomed to constant clouds and brief afternoon sunlight, even a small ray of brightness felt like an irreplaceable treasure.
Yet even that sliver of sun was blocked by the busy maids.
Beyond the figures bustling before her, another maid caught her eye.
‘Was her name Pepe?’
Earlier, during introductions, this girl had stood out for her quiet demeanor and few words.
While the other maids attended to Yerpi, she silently drew back the curtains and opened the window wider, filling the entire chamber with morning light.
When her eyes met Yerpi’s, she bowed her head and quietly retreated to the wall, waiting.
‘Was that coincidence?’
Or was she simply perceptive?
Yerpi’s curiosity about Pepe hadn’t yet been resolved.
A knock came from outside, and another maid arrived with news of the day’s first appointment.
“His Grace is waiting.”
Hearing that Raymond Growen was waiting to have breakfast with her, Yerpi was surprised.
“Understood.”
Though caught off guard by the unexpected invitation, she had no reason to refuse.
The hands preparing her grew even busier.
Unlike Yerpi, who only wished to dress neatly, the maids were eager to adorn her, even offering to fetch the heirloom jewels passed down through generations of Growen’s lady of the house, but were refused.
“It’s fine.”
“But….”
The maid hesitated, clearly disappointed.
Two maids stubbornly refused to move.
‘I recall they were introduced as coming from rather distinguished families.’
Perhaps that was why they wouldn’t easily give up their insistence.
But anxious at the thought of keeping Raymond waiting, Yerpi pointed to someone.
“You’re Pepe, right? Would you comb my hair? Just lightly, and sweep it neatly to the side.”
The short-haired girl, who had been quietly waiting behind the others, looked up in surprise. But before Pepe could respond, the other maids blocked her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Grace. This girl isn’t very skilled. She’s quite clumsy with hair or decorations.”
“It’s fine. Combing hair isn’t difficult, and His Grace is waiting, so we should go quickly.”
“But she’ll only slow things down.”
“Then I’ll do it myself.”
“What?”
The startled maid questioned back.
Yerpi remained calm, addressing both with steady composure.
“I suspect His Grace would prefer a woman who keeps him waiting less over one overly adorned.”
Most likely, the maids cared less about impressing the Duchess and more about avoiding Raymond’s displeasure.
Whether her meaning was clear, a hand reached through the murmuring maids.
Pepe, hesitating, picked up the brush and began gently combing Yerpi’s hair.
Pepe’s touch was neat and gentle, and contrary to the others’ words, not slow at all.
“It’s done.”
The wavy golden hair lay neatly swept to the side.
Yerpi stood, glanced once in the mirror, then expressed her gratitude.
“Thank you. Let’s go down now.”
Rising, she joined the maid waiting in the hallway and headed down to the dining room.
Breakfast was held in the grand dining hall on the first floor of the west wing.
Upon entering, Raymond was already there.
Raymond, who had been receiving reports from another knight, turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Their eyes met.
Yerpi, gazing at him, hesitated briefly before grasping her dress and giving a light curtsy.
“Good morning.”
Raymond briefly observed her composed greeting, then turned his gaze toward the dining table.
Yerpi, thinking she had been ignored, lifted her head only when his delayed reply came.
“Sit.”
“Yes.”
As Yerpi took her seat, the meal began.
Freshly baked bread with a pale, tender crumb was soft enough to melt in the mouth, and the pumpkin soup with a rosy hue offered a sweet first taste and a smooth, satisfying swallow.
The crisp salad, topped with a perfectly paired dressing and fruit medley, was truly exquisite.
Clearly, the castle’s cuisine, prepared by professional chefs, was of a different caliber than the food she’d eaten on her journey.
‘But why did he call for me?’
It was puzzling, even as she silently continued her meal.
But soon, the reason came to mind.
‘Ah, I remember. I know what he wants to say.’
Just as the thought surfaced, Raymond spoke.
“The budget allocated to the Duchess is combined from castle operating expenses, staffing costs, financial management, and dignity maintenance funds.”
The documents he handed over concerned the budget the Duchess would manage.
The spirit lands were like small nations.
Seasonal villages. Central towns each serving as a heart.
Beside the Duke who ruled them all, Yerpi, as Duchess, was now responsible for managing the inner affairs of the ducal castle.
Was handing her the keyring yesterday meant to signify this?
‘Has he become kind because I was helpful?’
But the thought that came to Yerpi’s mind wasn’t that.
“Is that all?”
Startled, Yerpi asked again. Raymond looked at her with mild surprise.
“Did you expect more to be said?”
But the words were difficult to bring up.
‘Strange. I thought he’d mention it.’
Because.
‘Raymond already has a son.’
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
