“Such a strange girl…”

Lisa muttered softly, her gaze fixed on the ceiling from beneath the blankets.
The familiar darkness and stillness enveloped the room, but today, somehow, the silence felt less heavy.

‘Cecily.’

Repeating the maid’s name in her mind, the soft syllables lingered lightly on her tongue.
Oddly, her head felt dizzy. A sensation of being caught up in something. An unfamiliar feeling.

“It’s… reassuring, isn’t it…”

She had just met her.
Yet why—
why did a corner of her heart feel so at ease?

‘It was her who made the meal.’

The fried rice had been undeniably delicious.
Her stomach finally felt comfortable, and with each bite, she found herself wanting more.
But she didn’t want to admit it.

She didn’t want to acknowledge that such a simple meal, made by a kitchen maid of the villa, could bring her satisfaction.

Yet.

Once she knew it was Cecily who had prepared it, she oddly felt reassured.
Somehow… to an almost disconcerting degree.
Without realizing it, an irrational belief had taken root: ‘If it’s her, it’s alright.’

“That girl… is different. Here in this villa, only Cecily.”

Lisa closed her eyes.
In the darkness, Cecily’s face emerged in her mind.
Her unusually sharp gaze. Her quiet yet sincere tone. And the polite habit of knocking every time she stood at the door.

The way Cecily approached, strictly observing boundaries, came to mind.
She would only enter when permitted, act only when requested.
She never intruded silently, never approached rudely.

And when she brought meals, the way she handed over the plate silently—
it was clearly not duty, but care.

“A sense of being treated with respect…”

Her lips moved unconsciously.
How long had it been since someone treated her like that?
Not because she was the daughter of a noble, but because she was a person.

It had once been normal.
Now, it felt alien, and thus, more frightening.

“…That makes it even more dangerous.”

The feeling of being briefly returned to those happier times unnerved Lisa.
The carefully built walls of her heart seemed ready to crumble too easily.

‘What if she betrays me?’

Just thinking it tightened her chest.
Though she knew the worry was irrational, her mind had already run ahead.

“Can I trust you… Cecily?”

In the quiet room, Lisa’s whisper lingered mournfully in the air.

“I want to trust you… but trusting is scary…”

Her voice trembled.
Some warmth seeped in, and the long-frozen ice within her cracked slightly.
Faith was slowly lifting its head once again.

Yet if wounds seeped in through that crack,
she feared she might never recover.

Lisa burrowed deeper under the blankets, closing her eyes.
Even so, she did not want to forget the warmth of the meal Cecily had prepared.
It might be the last warmth she’d ever feel, perhaps never coming again.

The lingering sensation on her tongue remained like an aftertaste.
The night was calm and cold, as always.

The moment she closed her eyes, the familiar scene returned.
The reins slipped as she stepped back, her vision tilting, suspended in midair.
And then—the impact.

Even in a dream, Lisa felt it vividly.
A deep numbness spreading below her waist.
A crushing weight wrapping her upper body, as if determined to suffocate her forever.

She repeatedly apologized in her dream, bowing to unknown figures, pleading for another chance.

“I am sorry for bringing shame to my family’s name.
Never… never again will I disappoint you.”

The voice echoed in the empty space, fading like a receding echo.
Upon waking, her forehead was beaded with sweat, her lips unconsciously pressed tight.

It was the same today.

In the deep of dawn, writhing in pain and breathing shallowly—
an unfamiliar touch reached her.

A gentle, careful hand wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Feeling the presence behind her eyelashes, Lisa shivered as the towel brushed across her skin.

A whisper stopped her eyelids from moving.

“Poor lady… you’ve suffered so much…”

The voice was tentative, yet sincere.
Familiar.
The only warm voice in this unfamiliar villa.

‘…Cecily?’

Though unsure, a strange twinge shot through her chest.
Even half-asleep, the girl’s face appeared vividly in her mind.

The small hand that brought her meals, the habit of knocking before entering,
and the gentle words that came with a smile.

‘Why… is Cecily here…?’

There was no reason for the maid to care so attentively.
Yet, she stayed cautiously at Lisa’s side.

She treated Lisa as a human first, not merely the noble daughter of a house the Drnold Marquis had abandoned.
She seemed to see the stigma as nothing more than a wounded girl.

Lisa could not understand it.
How could this girl be so warm?

She lay still, saying nothing.
Even awake, she kept her lips pressed, her breathing silent,
wanting to feel the warmth remain a moment longer.

A warning somewhere in her mind still echoed—
yet part of her heart could not deny it:
Cecily’s presence was slowly thawing her.

Commoners lived quietly under the cogs of noble society.
But if the title of ‘noble’ offered neither protection nor authority?
People turned away in silence. The heiress of the Drnold Marquis, Lisa… forgotten.
Neither noble nor commoner, who would care for this ambiguous existence?

The villa’s maids, servants, cooks, even the head maid—treated her like air.
An inconvenient air, best ignored.

Cecily—
had to do the same. To survive long here, she had no choice. Everyone did it, so she did too.

“Pretty face, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Her words floated gently through the room, feeling oddly strange.
Lisa didn’t move, but listened.

As if to confirm that this voice was truly meant for her.
She heard it. The girl knew exactly how she was treated in this space.
What her existence had been reduced to.

Yet still, she acted as if she were ‘Miss Lisa of the Marquis House.’
Knocking, waiting for permission, preparing meals…
Even when speaking to herself, she was careful, quietly sitting by Lisa’s side.

Lisa opened her eyes, gazing at the ceiling beyond her still pupils.
She breathed. Today, too… just breathing.
The wind from outside lifted the edge of the blanket slightly.

A trace of movement passed. Cecily’s gentle scent.
Soft laundry soap, sun-dried fabric.

Lisa wondered suddenly what kind of life the girl had led.
How she could blend so naturally among people.
How she could smile like that.

Cecily treated her with awareness, yet never pityingly.
Neither sympathy nor avoidance. Just human to human, eyes meeting.

That—
made her more uneasy.

‘You’ll leave eventually, too.’

The next morning,
as always, a cautious knock came first.
Lisa assumed Cecily had slept beside her, but she had already risen and prepared everything again.
‘No sleep?’

‘Tap, tap.’

As if following the only remaining rule in the world,
the two precise knocks reached Lisa’s ears without fail.

“Yes.”
“Miss, the sun is up today. I’ll open the window slightly.”

Permission was needed for the door to open.
Silent footsteps, the soft rustle of her skirt.
Lisa knew that rhythm now.

The girl was always consistent.
Her voice soft and bright, her movements carrying a comforting warmth.

Every time Lisa faced Cecily, a corner of her heart felt uneasy.
The reason was clear. She feared the kindness she had long awaited. Too long abandoned to coldness, warmth made her anxious.

Thus, Lisa rarely spoke.

Cecily, however, never faltered or tired from Lisa’s silence.
She only approached with a bright smile and gentle demeanor.

“Miss, the weather is quite nice today. The room may feel stuffy, so I’ll open the window slightly.”

Cecily gently pushed the window, letting cool air flow in.
Lisa frowned slightly, murmuring:

“…Cold.”

“Just a little ventilation, then I’ll close it. Fresh air is necessary. I can’t handle the room’s air alone, no matter how fresh I am.”

Though joking, Lisa didn’t even smile. She simply turned her head quietly.

Cecily, accustomed to this, quietly sat beside Lisa’s bed.

“The blanket is a bit wet. I heated some warm water. I’ll wipe you down soon.”

At that moment, Lisa’s fingertips clenched the blanket.
Embarrassment in such a situation never became familiar.
Biting her dry lips, she muttered softly:

“…Leave it.”

Her words carried both pride and resignation.

Yet Cecily never simply followed Lisa’s words. Instead, she gently patted Lisa’s hand with her small, warm palm.

“Stay still. It’ll be over soon.”

Even this ordinary comfort felt strange.
Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

Cecily’s hands were gentle and skilled. She removed the damp blanket, brought a warm cloth, and carefully wiped Lisa from thigh to toe.

Lisa barely registered the warmth, her brow slightly furrowed, yet she didn’t resist.
Cecily’s touch had an odd stability. It never disrespected or mocked her dignity.

“Now, put on your new clothes. Today’s outfit has a wider neckline, so it will be more comfortable.”

Hearing this, Lisa shifted slightly, complaining with mild discomfort.

“…I don’t need this. It’s just annoying.”

Cecily smiled slightly, appearing troubled.

“But I picked it for you… hearing a little praise motivates me.”

“…What am I supposed to do with that.”

Despite Lisa’s cold grumble, Cecily continued smiling.

“Just one compliment will do. It’s rare to hear a kind word from you, Miss.”

Lisa sighed softly.

“Do you need praise to work?”

“No. Just because it makes me happy.”

Lisa looked at Cecily silently, then let out a very small breath.
After a brief silence, her tiny, faint voice slipped out between her lips:

“…Thank you.”

“Huh?”

Startled, Cecily blinked. Lisa turned her head and muttered softly:

“I won’t say it twice.”

Cecily’s expression brightened immediately.

“One time is enough. My memory’s quite good.”

“Hurry up, stop chatting. It’s cold.”

“Yes, yes, understood.”

Cecily finished wiping away the dampness, helped her change into dry clothes, and wrapped the wet ones to leave by the door. She planned to wash them later.

“These new clothes are a bit larger, so they’ll be more comfortable today.”

Her tone carried an unspoken: ‘Because you should be comfortable, Miss.’
Even unspoken, her sincerity reached Lisa.

Lisa closed her eyes.
Her breath trembled ever so slightly.
Yet she hoped Cecily wouldn’t notice.

Even that was embarrassing.

Lisa didn’t know.
Why did this girl manage all this so naturally?
Why so calmly, and so kindly?

Cecily tidied the room without making a sound.
Her mere presence seemed to lighten the room slightly.

For someone to accept her without suspicion or caution,
Lisa’s heart had been frozen far too long.
Yet, despite everything, just a little—
like dust wiped off a windowsill. Even if new dust settled, she could feel a fleeting cleanliness.

Lisa felt it in her chest until the moment Cecily’s footsteps left the room and the door closed.
Something small was ringing quietly inside her.

Whether it was warmth, faint hope, or mere fatigue,
she could not tell.

But one thing was certain:
the girl who quietly entered the room that morning left a completely different warmth than yesterday.

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