Mireya returned to the workers' quarters when the day had begun to lean toward evening. She quickly washed herself, then sat silently at the edge of her narrow bed. Her gaze remained fixed on her hands, folded in her lap.
Silence crept in, dragging her thoughts back to the encounter in the vineyard that afternoon.
“That was Duke Leonard Eisenwald.” Mireya murmured softly. “His face… is far too cold for a human being. From then until now.”
Aunt Molly's image followed, along with the threat that still pressed against her chest. “If the Duke gets angry and reprimands me, you're finished.”
Mireya's heart began to race. She lowered her head, her fingers twisting together.
“I hope the Duke doesn't make an issue of anything,” she whispered hopefully. “I'm the one at fault for getting in his way.”
Not long afterward, Mireya's bedroom door was tapped softly.
“Mireya, it's time for dinner. Don't miss it,” a woman's voice called from the other side of the door.
It was Aunt Mala, the kitchen servant responsible for preparing the plantation workers' meals.
Mireya rose and left the room. She made her way to the dining hall, which was already filled with female workers. The smell of warm food filled the air. Mireya stood in line, lowering her head as usual.
After receiving her food ration, she sat on one of the long benches.
“I heard you made a mistake in front of His Grace today, Mireya?” one of her friends asked.
Mireya nodded. “I did.”
“If the Duke gets angry,” another woman quickly chimed in, “you're finished, Mireya.”
Mireya lowered her head. She knew that. The rumors circulating all this time said that His Grace, Duke Leonard Eisenwald, was a stern, cold man who forgave not even the smallest mistake. And she had known that about him since long ago.
“Besides,” another worker interrupted, “why did His Grace suddenly come to the vineyard? That's extremely rare. It might even be the first time.”
“Maybe he came to choose the finest grapes himself,” another replied. “For the drinks at next year's nobles' banquet—and perhaps the banquets in the years to come.”
Mireya quickly finished her meal. She did not respond to a single conversation about the Duke. In her heart, there was only one simple prayer. May the Duke not be angry about what happened that afternoon.
After finishing her meal, Mireya intended to return to her room. But as she passed through a narrow corridor, a voice stopped her.
“I heard you met His Grace, Duke Leonard Eisenwald, today, Mireya.”
Mireya turned. Aunt Sophia stood there, her large body blocking the way. Her expression was flat, but something unpleasant lurked in her eyes.
Mireya nodded slowly. “I did, Aunt Sophia.”
Aunt Sophia gave a thin smile, then stepped closer until they were standing far too near each other.
“What do you think,” she said softly, her voice sharp, “His Grace would do… if he found out that you're the daughter of the person who killed his father?”
Thud. Mireya's heart seemed to stop beating. Her body turned to stone. The secret she had buried so deeply beneath the name “Mireya” suddenly tightened around her throat.
“His Grace won't find out if no one tells him, will he?” Mireya said, staring straight into the greedy woman's eyes.
Aunt Sophia smiled thinly, a sickening smile filled with triumph. “Smart girl. So, to keep me quiet, there's naturally a price you'll have to pay, Mireya.”
“I already give you my breakfast ration every morning,” Mireya cut in quickly, exhaustion evident in her eyes. “What more do you want from me?”
“I need money,” Aunt Sophia whispered without a trace of guilt. “So… starting next month, you'll hand over half your wages to me.”
Mireya's eyes widened. Half her wages. She shook her head fiercely. “I can't, Aunt Sophia! Don't you know that every penny I earn goes toward supporting my mother and buying her medicine?”
Before Sophia could reply, the echo of another servant's footsteps approached from the end of the corridor. The conversation abruptly came to an end.
But before she could truly turn away, Aunt Sophia took one step forward, leaned in, and whispered right beside Mireya's ear in a cold, poisonous voice.
“You have no other choice, Mireya… or I'll tell everyone that you're the child of a damned murderer.”