A Princess in Distress
The middle-aged woman in the gray dress led Kayla back to the room with its deep turquoise walls, her eyes wide as she scanned the unfamiliar, intensely private space.
She had been the housekeeper of Archerfield’s grand ancestral estate.
She had just guided Kayla inside after that quick introduction.
Her gaze lingered on the bed’s headboard emblazoned with the twin-eagle crest.
Will I actually sleep here?
A faint bead of sweat formed on her brow, born of the sudden, unwelcome worry that her somnambulism might once again send her wandering through the halls of the mansion.
“The private sitting room, dressing room, and bathroom all open directly onto this bedroom.”
Her eyes followed the sky-blue canopy draped over the bed, imagining how it might tie her hands and feet.
She straightened at the housekeeper’s voice and answered with a gentle smile.
“My things…”
“Lord Carl will bring them later.”
By the time she and Carl had returned from the library after submitting her resignation, the reporters had already turned the entire estate into chaos.
They had simply turned the carriage around and driven straight to Archerfield.
As expected, the servants gathered there—except for the butler and the housekeeper—could barely hide their astonishment.
Even Kayla, who had never imagined returning to Archerfield in this way, felt little different from the rest.
She had been even more unsettled after learning that Duke Gerard was still at the hunting grounds.
A mansion with no master at all was an uncomfortable place to be.
A maid entered carrying a silver tray, set it on the table, and poured the tea while stealing quick glances at Kayla.
She backed away once the tasting appeared complete, her brows furrowing slightly.
That was enough to keep Kayla from reaching for the teacup.
“You look very much like someone I once knew.”
The housekeeper’s voice, suddenly soft and laced with quiet sorrow, cut through the air.
“Would you like to come with me?”
Curious, Kayla followed her into the dressing room.
White fur stoles, shoes, bags, and gowns in every shade of elegance lined the walls.
Even someone unfamiliar with such things would recognize these as pieces far beyond the reach of ordinary means.
Yet unlike the sleek, modern styles in vogue today, these garments emphasized the waist and hips in a way that felt as if they had already passed out of fashion.
While Kayla watched, the housekeeper returned from within carrying a modest dress of warm chestnut lace.
“Try this on. It should suit you without petticoats.”
“…It’s all right as it is.”
“Allow me to help you. Come along.”
Pressed by the gentle insistence, Kayla accepted the dress and slipped behind the screen to change.
In the full-length mirror, the garment looked as though it had been tailored for her exactly.
The straight-cut shoulders revealed no awkward contours, and the deep brown shade, flecked with gray, harmonized beautifully with her hair while lending an air of dignified vitality that sharpened her natural grace.
Though she had always preferred modest attire, the reflection was not entirely displeasing.
The housekeeper seated Kayla at the vanity and began combing out the pins from her long, loose hair.
“It seems the master is here.”
“Of course. Not right now, but soon.”
Through the mirror, the housekeeper offered Kayla a small, knowing smile.
“This room has stood empty for twenty-four years. The previous master was Lady Isabella, the Duchess’s mother.”
“…What?”
Kayla’s exclamation came a moment too late.
She whipped her head around, scalp tight with shock, yet the pain was nothing compared to the jolt.
“Does wearing the late master’s clothes trouble you?”
The housekeeper’s lips parted in surprise; she smiled reassuringly.
“Just wear it until your things arrive. Once the duke takes over, you’ll use this room anyway.”
She was speaking as if Kayla were the true bride.
Yet the distinction between occupying the space and wearing the garments was clear.
“The young miss had hair as deep gold as the duke’s, though her manner was gentler, more like a lady’s.”
The words sounded almost dreamy.
“…It must be because your figures are so similar.”
“I thought so too, but no. That is why the duke was drawn to her as well.”
The rest of the sentence sounded like a private murmur; Kayla chose to ignore it.
“I understood you had never met her because she passed away when you were young.”
“That’s right. She died a year after the birth, right before her honeymoon… but there are portraits and photographs, so you can see what she looked like.”
Guilt tugged at her conscience.
Kayla stood abruptly, pushing the vanity aside.
“Still, this isn’t right. I should have consulted the duke first…”
A sudden commotion outside cut the sentence short.
Both women froze, ears pricked.
“What’s happening?”
Without knocking, the door burst open.
The maid who had brought the tea moments earlier rushed in, pale and out of breath.
“Why the noise?”
“The princess has been hurt. I sent for the doctor, but the housekeeper should see her first.”
“What!”
“Just a moment.”
Kayla caught the housekeeper’s arm before she could dash out.
“Is Princess Theophanie here right now?”
“Yes. She came earlier to hunt with the duke.”
Ah, that explained the strange expressions on everyone’s faces.
The housekeeper had seemed to know exactly why she had been asked to change.
“Let’s go together.”
Despite her shock, Kayla strode past the frozen women and stepped into the hall.
***
“Damn it, where the hell is Anneliese! She’s been gone for who knows how long, and there’s not a sign of her!”
In the echoing hall of the duke’s residence, Kayla stumbled to a halt.
Meanwhile, the housekeeper had already hurried into the open private reception room.
This was the same place she had visited once as a child, hoping to gain the favor of the Maderson duke.
“The Duchess of Maderson’s housekeeper requests an audience with Her Highness.”
Before the words could finish, Duke Gerard spun toward the source of the sound.
His eyes, burning with fury, locked onto Kayla as she followed the housekeeper.
For a heartbeat his gaze widened, then hardened into stone.
“You…”
White, slightly curly hair cascading to his collar, a full white beard framing his face—both features now deepened by age, almost unfamiliar.
Kayla curtsied with perfect grace.
“Kayla Moss, greeting Your Grace the Duke of Maderson.”
The words left her in a voice that cracked under the effort of swallowing pain.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Princess Theophanie Ahint Sprouse.
Though pain surely twisted her features, the unexpected sight of Kayla caused her face to twist in unmistakable contempt.
Yet even in that moment, her striking beauty burned like flame, drawing every eye.
The housekeeper knelt before the long bench where the princess sat with shoulders drawn tight.
The left hand resting on the princess’s knee was swollen all the way to the fingertips.
The duke’s voice cut through the air, thick with displeasure.
“Because a foolish squirrel sprang out and threw me from the saddle.”
Kayla recalled the nursing and first-aid training she had received at the academy for wartime preparedness.
“May I tend to Her Highness?”
Both the duke and the princess turned toward her at once.
She was a commoner; she had no right to touch royalty.
Even as the prospective bride of Duke Niguel, her current status left the boundaries dangerously unclear.
Kayla felt the familiar words you dare hovering unspoken in her throat.
Everyone else in the room watched in silence, heads bowed, eyes darting between the two women now clashing over the duke’s past.
Two women of differing ranks—past and present—standing before the duke; an uncommon sight in this grand old family, the air crackled with the tension of every gaze.
She held her breath for what felt like four full seconds, certain no one would speak.
Yet Theophanie’s face had gone deathly pale.
“Move aside,” the duke ordered, his tone stern but unsurprised.
Only then did the atmosphere shift.
Kayla exhaled slowly.
“I need a splint and kindling. Also fetch some compression bandages.”
A maid nearby brought the requested items without hesitation.
Kayla stepped forward and seated herself beside the princess on the long bench.
As she wrapped the bandages around Theophanie’s swollen hand, the princess’s fierce stare followed every movement.
“Even the duke doesn’t know why. Why are you here?”
“My whereabouts were made known.”
“…”
The princess’s calm tone was so unexpected that Kayla almost missed the hint of frustration beneath it.
She turned her gaze back to the duke, eyes glistening with distress.
“Will you be able to manage on your own for one day?”
A soft inhale echoed from someone nearby.