Chapter 5

Serving Jeremy turned out to be less challenging than Velita had anticipated.

In fact, it was easier than attending to Selina.

Jeremy didn’t require her to play hide-and-seek or read stories as if she were caring for a child.

Instead, he often took Velita horseback riding or invited her to sit on the sofa and share tea while they talked. Their conversations always began with Jeremy’s playful teasing but inevitably ended with him asking her questions—questions that seemed to peel back the layers of who she was.

As time passed, Velita found herself spending more and more time with Jeremy. Surprisingly, she didn’t dislike the arrangement.

But it seemed this new dynamic had begun to provoke Emma.

One late afternoon, an incident occurred.

While passing through the kitchen, Velita noticed someone had accidentally dropped and shattered a dish. Without hesitation, she hurried over, kneeling to pick up the shards.

There was no real reason for her to help a fellow maid who often shunned her, but Velita was alone, and the others had numbers on their side. She had no choice but to try and get along.

Her actions were born from a flawed calculation: the belief that offering help might soften the hostility of the other maids, or at least prevent it from escalating.

“Ah…!”

Velita’s thoughts shattered as suddenly as the glass when a foot pressed down on her hand, grinding it into the shards below.

Pain surged through her hand as she instinctively yanked it free, but not before cuts covered her palm and the back of her hand.

“Oh dear, how clumsy of me.”

Slowly, Velita raised her head.

It was then she realized who had dropped the dish, who she had been helping, and whose foot had just crushed her hand.

Emma.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Velita hissed through clenched teeth, shaking the remaining shards from her hand as she stood.

“Why so angry? It was an accident,” Emma replied with feigned innocence.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Velita had endured their cold shoulders and dismissive attitudes thus far because it had never escalated to outright bullying. But this—this was different. If their disdain for her turned physical, it was something she could no longer ignore.

“You can get angry after all,” Emma remarked, a mocking smile curling on her lips.

“…Emma Collin.”

“I thought you’d stay silent, pretending to be all innocent and harmless, even when stepped on. Guess I was wrong.”

Emma’s taunting tone was like a match to dry kindling. Velita’s patience had worn thin, and the sting in her hands only fueled her rising anger.

Velita wasn’t entirely clueless as to why Emma harbored such hostility toward her.

Janice had once given her a hint.

“This is about the young master, isn’t it?”

Her words were whispered, low and deliberate, as she leaned in closer to Emma. Sure enough, Emma’s eyes flickered, betraying her unease.

Swallowing the laugh that threatened to escape, Velita met Emma’s gaze and issued a clear warning.

“Don’t compare me to you.”

“Compare?”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“…”

“I don’t throw myself at men for money the way you do.”

Velita thought Emma would react with shame, that her face would twist in embarrassment.

But Emma’s response was far from what she expected.

Her face did contort, but it wasn’t shame—it was anger.

“Ugh…!”

Emma’s grip tightened painfully around Velita’s injured hand, the glass shards still embedded in her skin pressing deeper as Emma glared at her fiercely.

“You think this is just about money?”

“Can you honestly say it isn’t?”

Velita vividly remembered the pained expression Jeremy wore when he spoke of Emma. Whatever their arrangement was, it was an agreement between two adults. Velita didn’t judge him for it. But Emma’s approach—assuming everyone else shared her motivations—was grating.

Emma’s eyes burned with animosity, but Velita met her glare with equal intensity.

At last, Emma released Velita’s hand, gritting her teeth as she leaned in close and hissed,

“Velita Grandel. Stop pretending to be innocent. If there’s something you want from the young master, you’d better take it while you can. Jeremy Ryles grows bored quickly.”

This time, it was Velita whose face burned with humiliation.

Emma was utterly convinced that Velita had—or would soon have—a scandalous relationship with Jeremy.

But Velita swore she had no such intention.

Emma’s world was tainted, and she could only see others through that lens. She likely assumed everyone was as opportunistic as she was because that was how she lived her life.

But Velita had a different future in mind.

She wanted to save up honestly and, if Daniel was alive, build a modest home in a quiet place where they could live without worrying about their next meal.

If she had truly wanted wealth at any cost, she would have resigned herself to the forced marriage her mother had tried to arrange.

It was infuriating to be so unjustly branded as immoral and opportunistic.

Worse still, she was being treated like someone disposable, someone who could be swept away at any moment.

‘I won’t let it end like this.’

Velita didn’t want to walk away feeling defeated, unable to respond to Emma’s words. Yet, explaining herself would do no good. Emma had already made up her mind, and Velita saw no reason to justify herself to her.

Emma’s opinion of her didn’t matter. But the way Emma had humiliated her—and the thought of Emma’s growing fear of losing Jeremy’s favor—stoked her anger.

“Are you scared he’ll get tired of you?”

“…What?”

Emma, who had turned to leave, froze in place at Velita’s low, cutting words.

“Is there something you want to take quickly?”

“…”

“Is that how you’ve manipulated people all this time?”

“You little…!”

Emma marched toward Velita, her fury unmistakable. Her movements were so aggressive it looked as though she might raise her hand any moment. Startled by Emma’s sudden reaction, Velita instinctively took a step back.

“Velita Grandel!”

Just then, a voice interrupted, saving Velita from the escalating confrontation. Janice had entered the kitchen, calling Velita’s name loudly. She stopped in her tracks as she noticed the tense standoff between the two maids.

“Are you two fighting or something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that! Anyway, why were you calling me, Janice?” Velita quickly denied it, her tone slightly panicked.

Though Janice seemed to understand the situation, she chose to let it slide and got to the point.

“The young master is looking for you.”

It was only then Velita realized she’d been on her way to Jeremy when the sound of the shattered dish had distracted her. She’d ended up getting involved and delaying her errand far longer than she should have.

“All right, I’ll head there right away.”

Without sparing a glance at Emma, Velita briskly left the kitchen and made her way to Jeremy’s room.

The remnants of her altercation with Emma lingered heavily in her mind, leaving her disoriented. She barely remembered walking down the long hallway, grateful she hadn’t tripped or run into anything along the way.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it—she needed to compose herself.

Velita knocked on the door, and upon hearing permission to enter, she pulled down her sleeves to hide the wounds on her wrist and stepped inside.

“You called for me, young master.”

Jeremy was seated with a magnifying glass, reading a letter written in a foreign language. He glanced briefly at Velita before turning his attention back to the paper. Velita quietly stood beside him.

The letter intrigued her. Jeremy usually discarded correspondence without a second glance, so to see him so engrossed in one was unusual.

Whose letter could it be?

Before she could ponder further, Jeremy spoke unexpectedly.

“Where did you hurt yourself?”

Velita froze. She had been careful to conceal her injuries, using her sleeve and keeping her hand out of sight. How had he noticed?

Uncertain how to respond, Velita bit her lip repeatedly, debating whether to answer truthfully. Jeremy, sensing her hesitation, turned his full attention to her, swiveling in his chair.

His gaze traveled from her face to her shoulder, then down her arm to her hand. Velita instinctively moved to hide her injured hand, but Jeremy, calm and deliberate, extended his hand toward her.

Her attempt to shield her injuries felt futile. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his.

The moment his skin brushed hers, the pain from the embedded shards flared.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

Jeremy’s voice was unusually gentle, and it stirred an unfamiliar sadness within Velita.

Emma’s behavior flashed through her mind, and Velita couldn’t help but feel a surge of disdain for someone who would exploit the kindness of a man like Jeremy.

Shaking her head, Velita denied the pain. It wasn’t entirely true—her hand hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Pain was nothing new to her. Her time in the slums and the brief weeks before she was nearly sold had taught her to endure it.

What she wasn’t accustomed to, however, was someone expressing concern for her.

“I don’t like seeing my people with scars,” Jeremy said, his tone casual yet sincere.

The words made Velita’s heart ache in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

“Who did this to you?”

Emma Collin, your confidante, hurt me because she’s jealous.

Velita wanted to say it, wanted to tell him everything like a child tattling to an adult. She had a feeling Jeremy would listen and even take her side. But she wasn’t naïve. Jeremy’s kindness toward her didn’t guarantee he would prioritize her over Emma, someone he had known far longer.

And the two shared a deeper relationship, didn’t they?

But Jeremy didn’t seem ready to let the matter drop.

He picked up the bell on his desk and summoned the butler, instructing him to fetch medical supplies. Then, turning back to Velita, he pressed further.

“This isn’t a simple cut from a glass shard, is it?”

His voice, calm but firm, demanded an answer.

“I-I’m really fine,” Velita stammered.

“You need to tell me if you want me to help, Velita.”

“Please don’t misunderstand. I truly hurt myself by being clumsy.”

Velita desperately tried to lie her way out, but Jeremy wasn’t so easily fooled. He narrowed his eyes, observing her closely before asking in a careful tone,

“Was it Emma?”

Velita’s eyes widened in surprise, and her reaction answered his question better than words ever could.

“I see… I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“N-no, young master, there’s no reason for you to apologize. This is between Emma and me…” Velita flustered, unsure of how to respond as Jeremy lowered his head, running a hand through his hair.

“It seems Emma has misunderstood our relationship,” Velita added, trying to explain.

“She’s made quite a big misunderstanding,” Jeremy murmured.

“…”

“We’re not like that, after all.”

His tone was gentle, but there was something wistful hidden in his words. Velita found herself captivated, her eyes drawn to his.

The way Jeremy looked at her carried the same warmth as his voice, but there was also something deeper, something almost yearning in his gaze. Yet, just as she began to sense it, it was gone.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Jeremy’s attention shifted away from her without hesitation.

“Come in,” he called his tone firm yet composed.

The butler entered with the requested supplies, and Jeremy turned toward him.

“Take care of her,” Jeremy instructed.

“Of course, young master,” the butler replied with a nod.

Jeremy stood and moved toward the door, his steps brisk and decisive, a stark contrast to how persistently he had carried the conversation just moments ago.

Velita watched him leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion. She should have felt glad the uncomfortable moment had ended, yet she couldn’t shake the lingering effect of his words, his gaze, and his tone.

“Do…!”

The word almost slipped from her lips, an impulsive attempt to stop him.

But it was too late. Jeremy had already left, the door closing behind him with a resolute click.

Velita stood in silence, her heart inexplicably stirred by the memory of his kind eyes and the trace of wistfulness in his voice.