Mrs. Molly entered first, followed by Mrs. Bai. Behind them, a man in an expensive suit walked in with calm, measured steps, his aura unmistakably different.
“Allow me to introduce him,” Mrs. Molly began. “This is Mr. Ethan, one of His Grace Duke Leonard Eisenwald’s personal assistants.”
Ethan’s gaze swept across the room. One by one, he calmly studied the workers’ faces. At last, his eyes paused briefly on a girl standing without any adornment, her head bowed at the very end of the line.
“Lift your eyes. Mr. Ethan wants to see your faces,” Mrs. Molly ordered firmly.
In unison, the female workers raised their heads. Their carefully made-up faces stared straight ahead, filled with hope. Mireya was no exception. She slowly lifted her face, calm and free of makeup, her simple, shabby clothes standing out among the glittering dresses.
She was certain of it. A girl like her could never be worthy of serving grapes at the residence of Arkenvale’s highest-ranking noble.
Mr. Ethan stepped forward. His gaze passed over the female workers’ faces one by one. He examined them carefully—the overly heavy makeup, the forced smiles, the eyes brimming with hope.
At last, he stopped. His eyes settled on a girl standing without a trace of adornment.
Mireya.
Mr. Ethan took one step back. He had made his choice.
“I’ve found the one,” he said curtly.
The female workers’ hearts pounded. Some smiled hopefully, while others held their breath. Mireya, meanwhile, lowered her head, her body going rigid.
‘No… not me. God, please save me,’ she prayed over and over in her heart. ‘Take all the good deeds I’ve done, just don’t let them choose me.’
But her prayer crumbled the instant Mr. Ethan raised his hand and pointed straight at her.
“Her.”
The world seemed to stop turning. Mireya’s eyes flew wide. Her body went stiff, and her blood ran cold.
The entire room fell abruptly silent, then filled with disbelieving stares. A shabby girl like Mireya? Chosen by the Duke’s assistant?
“M-Mr. Ethan,” Mrs. Molly finally said. She bowed respectfully before continuing hesitantly, “She’s a worker who often makes mistakes. And her appearance is… rather unsuitable. Could you be mistaken, Mr. Ethan?”
Mr. Ethan turned toward her calmly. “The head servant at the Eisenwald residence will teach her,” he replied flatly. “Madam Elizabeth prefers plain faces. Madam does not like servants who wear excessive makeup.”
No one dared respond. Everyone lowered their heads obediently. Mireya, on the other hand, wanted to laugh at her own misfortune. ‘So my decision not to wear makeup was a mistake—and perhaps the beginning of my ruin.’
The other female workers swallowed their regret. The beautiful makeup they had been so proud of now felt like a burden.
Mrs. Molly spoke again, her voice formal. “Very well, sir. The girl’s name is Mireya, of the Baroned family. A commoner of the lowest caste.”
Mr. Ethan nodded as he accepted the information, then looked at Mireya once more.
“Prepare yourself. After dinner, come with us tonight, Miss.”
Mireya’s heart pounded erratically. Tonight… The fate she had feared all this time had come to claim her of its own accord.
Ethan turned and walked out of the hall. No one in that room knew that from the very beginning, the choice had never truly been under consideration. The other girls were merely a formality. Their faces, clothing, and makeup had never factored into the calculation. The desired name had been given even before Ethan arrived here.
Mireya.
By direct order of Duke Leonard Eisenwald himself. The man standing at the top of Arkenvale was not looking for a servant to serve grapes. Mireya was a girl deliberately drawn in so that she would always remain within the Duke’s sight.