“Are you alright?” the maid asked softly.
Her gaze swept over the mess scattered across the floor.
“I heard some noise… What happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
Prim wiped her tears, trying her best to compose herself and not look so disheveled.
“You can leave now. Let me be alone.”
The maid did not leave.
Instead, she entered the room.
She carefully stepped around the shards on the ground and crouched down in front of Prim.
“Your Highness the Princess,” her voice grew even softer.
“I… I saw something earlier.”
Prim lifted her head. “What?”
“I saw Miss Ingrid go to the garden.”
The maid parted her lips and spoke in as calm a tone as she could manage.
“She went to see Lord Abel. The two of them talked in the gazebo for a long time. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.”
Prim’s eyes widened.
“And,” the maid continued, “when Miss Ingrid left, I heard her humming a song. She looked to be in a very good mood.”
“That bitch—!”
Prim shot to her feet. But her foot stepped on a shard, and she stumbled, nearly falling over.
The maid hurriedly supported her.
“Your Highness, please calm down a little…”
“Calm down?!”
Prim’s voice turned sharp.
“How am I supposed to calm down?! That bitch framed me and destroyed everything I had. Now she’s still cozying up to Abel right in front of him! She’s gloating! She’s happy! While I—”
She could not continue.
Tears welled up in her eyes once more.
The maid helped her sit down on the edge of the bed, then crouched in front of her and looked up.
A strange gleam suddenly flashed through those brown eyes.
“Your Highness the Princess,” her voice dropped even lower.
“Are you really willing to accept things as they are?”
Prim was stunned. “What?”
“Being framed, being wronged, having everything stolen from you…”
The maid spoke each word deliberately. “Are you really willing to just give up and admit defeat like this?”
“What if I’m not willing? What can I do about it?” Prim smiled bitterly. “I have no evidence that she did it. Abel doesn’t believe me at all right now…”
“No evidence? We can create some.” The maid said.
Prim froze.
She looked at the maid before her and suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity.
The face was the same face, but those eyes… The things flickering within those eyes sent a chill through her heart.
“You… What are you talking about?”
The maid stood up.
She walked over to the window and turned her back to the light.
Sunlight streamed in from behind her, plunging her face into shadow.
“Fight fire with fire.”
A trace of eerie amusement colored her voice.
“She tried to frame you, so you can frame her in return. She wants Abel to hate you, so you can make Abel hate her instead.”
Prim’s heart began to race.
“But… but I don’t know how to do that…”
“It’s very simple.”
The maid turned around.
Her expression was difficult to read in the backlighting.
“Who is the person she trusts the most right now?”
“…Aiko, probably? After all, the two of them are such good friends…”
Of course, Prim had no idea about the near-rupture conversation the two had in the small forest.
To her, they were as close as sisters who wore the same pants.
“Exactly.”
The maid smiled.
“If Aiko discovers that her ‘suddenly repentant good friend’ hasn’t actually changed one bit and is still plotting how to harm others behind the scenes… What do you think will happen?”
Prim’s eyes gradually began to brighten.
“Moreover,” the maid went on, “the person she wants to get close to the most right now is Abel. If Abel finds out that her approach toward him has a hidden agenda… What do you think he will think?”
Prim suddenly stood up and grabbed the maid’s hand.
“How do we do it?! Tell me how to do it!”
The maid looked at her.
The corners of her mouth curved upward.
That curve… was a little too wide.
It was so wide that it didn’t look like an expression a normal person could make.
But Prim was too excited to notice.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness the Princess.”
The maid gently pulled her hand back. Her smile bloomed like a flower.
“We need to wait for the right opportunity! Take things slowly. We have plenty of time.”
She walked toward the door.
Just as she reached the doorway, she suddenly stopped, turned her head back.
The sunlight happened to fall directly on her face, illuminating her eyes.
In that instant, those brown eyes seemed to transform into a strange, star-like shape.
“By the way, Your Highness the Princess,” she said. “What was my name again?”
Prim was taken aback.
“Aren’t you called Siglika? What’s the matter?”
She felt a bit puzzled.
What kind of question was that?
This maid who had served her for several years—what was suddenly going on with her?
“Ah, sorry. I suddenly forgot for a moment.”
The maid smiled.
“Siglika, right? Nice name. I’ve committed it to memory!”
She pushed open the door and left.
Before going, she stuck her tongue out at Prim and flashed a very bright, radiant smile.
It was the kind of smile that screamed she was here for the fun.
Only Prim remained in the room.
She stood dazed amid the wreckage, a strange feeling rising in her heart.
How many years had that maid followed her?
Three years? Five years?
Why did she suddenly feel so… unfamiliar?
***
After “Siglika” left Prim’s room, she walked down the corridor with light, quick steps.
Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows and fell upon her, dancing across her chestnut hair.
She hummed a slightly off-key little tune. Her mood was so good she felt like she might float away.
First, I’ll go meet that green-haired little brother.
She mentally sketched out the perfect script: First, sincerely explain things for the princess to win his trust, and then…
In the garden, Abel remained seated in the gazebo.
The cup of tea Ingrid had brought him still sat on the table, long since gone cold.
He had not touched it.
He merely glanced at it from time to time, as though deep in thought.
Footsteps approached.
He looked up and saw a chestnut-haired girl in a maid’s uniform walking toward him.
“Lord Abel.”
The girl stopped in front of the gazebo and curtsied respectfully.
“Forgive this intrusion. I am truly sorry.”
Abel set down the book in his hands. “You are… Her Highness the Princess’s maid?”
“Yes, my name is Siglika.”
The girl raised her head. Her face wore a perfectly measured expression of concern.
“I… I have something I wish to tell you. It’s about what happened this morning.”
Abel regarded her.
Those brown eyes were clear and limpid, brimming with sincere worry.
Yet for some unknown reason, he always felt that something else lay hidden deep within those eyes.
“Go on.”
The girl took a deep breath, as if steeling her courage.
“Lord Abel, I know you must be very angry with Her Highness the Princess. However… please believe me, Her Highness truly did not intend to harm you!”
She took a step forward and spoke urgently.
“She admitted that she had some improper thoughts and wanted to use certain… underhanded methods. But it was definitely not poison!”
Abel arched an eyebrow. “What methods?”
The girl hesitated for a moment.
She reached into her bosom and took out a small paper packet, offering it with both hands.
“It was this ‘Witch’s Secret Potion.’ Her Highness originally planned to use this… to make you develop favorable feelings toward her.”
Abel accepted the paper packet and opened it for a look.
Inside were two small packets of powder.
They looked identical, with no markings of any kind.
“‘Witch’s Secret Potion’?”
He frowned.
“Does something like this actually exist in this world?”
He found it hard to believe.
In his previous life as a gamer, he knew the game had various items that increased favorability.
But those were all properly priced system products.
Something like this in reality?
It sounded exactly like a con artist’s trick.