Chapter 9: Claire and Jennifer/ the soup incident
*Author pov*
As Theodore hurried back to his simmering soup, saving it from overcooking, he took a tentative sip. The flavours still danced on his tongue—perfectly balanced, like a well-practiced waltz.
Meanwhile, Alex scanned the bustling scene—the kitchen bench where Eveline sat, her laughter mingling with the other maids. His heartbeat, usually steady, faltered as Eveline's gaze met his. She moved her hand in a graceful arc, greeting him with a smile—a sunbeam breaking through the clouds.
Alex approached the bench where Eveline sat, his smile warm and genuine. He exchanged pleasantries with the other maids, their voices blending in the sun-dappled air. But his gaze remained fixed on Eveline—a secret he held close.
Finally, he mustered the courage.
"Could we talk?"
He asked, his cheeks betraying his nervousness. Eveline nodded, and they stepped aside. The height difference between them made her look up, her emerald eyes curious.
"What do you need me for?"
she inquired, her voice soft. Alex's heart raced; he had rehearsed this moment a thousand times.
"Michelle wants to see you in her main office,"
He stammered, the words tumbling out.
Eveline repeated Michelle's name, her mind racing through memories, trying to pinpoint any misstep. Why would Michelle want to see her? The weight of uncertainty pressed upon her, etching lines of worry on her face. But Alex's laughter, like a gentle breeze, eased the tension.
"Not that serious, I guess," he assured her.
Lost in her thoughts, Eveline still wondered about Michelle's intentions. And then, Saerom snapped her back to reality, her voice sharp with curiosity. Alex stepped in, explaining the situation
Eveline hesitated outside of Michelle`s main office in the mansion, her knuckles poised to knock. But before she could, the door swung open, revealing August. His disdainful gaze swept over her, and he muttered,
"Such a frog." The insult hung in the air, leaving Eveline stunned.
As she turned away, ready to respond, Michelle's voice intervened.
"Take a seat," she instructed.
Eveline seethed with indignation. August´s insult—calling her a frog—stung like a hidden thorn.
Michelle sat across from Eveline, her expression composed.
«Thank you for coming,"
Michelle began.
"You see, Amy is unwell, and she's been responsible for Duke Akai's clothes and room maintenance."
Her gaze held a hint of expectation.
"For the next two weeks, this task will be yours."
Eveline nodded, her heart fluttering. The weight of responsibility settled upon her
"You have to Clean the room very well" Michelle emphasised.
"Take and bring the clothes from the dryer". Eveline nodded.
And then, the final instruction: "Do what he asks for and then leave the room".
Eveline's curiosity simmered, but Michelle's stern gaze reminded her of the gravity. This was no ordinary task.
Michelle's next words surprised her:
"You'll need to work overtime in the upcoming weeks."
Eveline's heart fluttered; this was no ordinary task. But Michelle's reassurance followed:
"Don't worry. I'll keep track of your hours, and you can take a rest another day."
The golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky, casting long shadows across the elegant dining room. The crystal chandeliers sparkled, their prisms refracting the fading light. The mahogany table stood adorned with fine china, polished silverware, and delicate crystal glasses.
The maids moved gracefully, arranging platters of succulent roasted meats, steaming vegetables and Theodore´s special soup as the main show of the evening.
Claire and Jennifer, their dresses rustling softly, stepped across the threshold into the opulent dining room. The chandeliers above them shimmered, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.
Duke Akai, perched atop the table, Across from him, Claire sat regally and Duke Zella and Jennifer, seated facing each other.
In the bustling kitchen, Theodore, the seasoned head chef, orchestrated the culinary symphony. His voice, a blend of authority and passion, cut through the clatter. Pots simmered, knives danced, and flames leaped in response to his commands. The kitchen was his domain.
Reem, sleeves rolled up, scrubbed dishes with practiced efficiency. The water splashed, and steam enveloped her
Floral, the sous chef, moved with grace. She arranged delicate canapés on porcelain platters, each morsel a miniature masterpiece. Her fingers, deft as a pianist's, placed micro greens and edible flowers with precision.
Amidst this orchestrated chaos, two figures sat on the sidelines, their roles less conventional. Eveline and beside her, Saerom, they nibbled on pineapple, the sweetness a brief escape from the kitchen's intensity.
"Eveline," Saerom prompted, "what happened in Michelle's office?"
Eveline's laughter tinkled. "August," she began, "that insufferable man, he accused me of being a frog."
Saerom raised an eyebrow. "You, A frog?"
The kitchen, a whirlwind of activity, froze as Lexi's voice cut through the clamour. All eyes turned toward her
"Listen up," she declared, her gaze sweeping the room. "Michelle has spoken. "Changes has been made."
Lexi's eyes darted, seeking out two specific figures. There they were: Eveline and Saerom
"You two,"
Lexi announced, her voice carrying. "Eveline, Saerom, Vicky, and Armengard—you're on serving duty. The butlers, remain the same."
As the girls prepared to carry out today's special—the steaming soup—Theodore, the head chef, issued a gentle warning.
Eveline, met Theodore's gaze
"Don't worry, Teddy," she said.
"We'll handle it with care."
Claire, reminisced about past joys—the echoes of shared moments. Jennifer nodded, her eyes reflecting memories.
And then, like a procession of secrets, Eveline and Saerom entered, bearing trays of steaming soup. Behind them followed Vicky and Armengard, their roles less visible but no less significant.
A couple minuts ago:
"Serve Duke Zella,"
Lexi instructed, her tone edged with annoyance while she was looking down at Saerom
Eveline, beside her, received her own directive. Lexi's voice the same tone as she said,
"Serve soon to be wife Claire."
Vicky, quiet and efficient, was assigned to Miss Jennifer
And then there was Armengard, who got told to serve Duke Akai.
Armengard blushed as she heard Lexi telling her to serve Duke Akai.
As Claire's eyes traced the path of the serving maids, Akai and Zella exchanged a subtle glance. Their surprise remained veiled
Zella's gaze, however, lingered on a particular maid—Saerom. Her curls bounced as she moved, a whirlwind of efficiency. Zella hadn't expected to see Saerom in this role.
Saerom, her apron slightly askew, moved with purpose. Zella's gaze, like a hawk tracking its prey, followed her every step.
Armengard, the silent sentinel, led the way. Her movements were precise, the soup bowl placed before Duke Akai with reverence. The steam curled upward, a fragrant offering to nobility. Armengard stepped back, her duty fulfilled with a smile on her face.
And then it was Saerom's turn. She approached Duke Zella, her heart racing. Zella, regal and composed, awaited his portion. Saerom's curls flowed in the air as she moved, and she felt Zella's gaze—sharp, assessing.
With deliberate intent, Saerom placed the soup bowl before Zella. But her foot, hidden beneath layers of fabric, had other plans.
She stepped on Zella's polished shoe, her heel digging in with just the right amount of force. Zella's eyes widened imperceptibly, a flicker of surprise.
«Thank you,"
Zella managed, his voice strained. He fought to maintain his composure, the pain masked by politeness. Saerom's satisfaction bubbled—a victory won in the quiet theater of the dining room.
Eveline, her wavy hair cascading like a waterfall, stepped toward the table where Miss Claire sat. The room held its breath—a moment suspended in time. Claire's hidden spark flared brighter, and Akai's gaze followed Eveline's every move.
As Eveline approached. The soup bowl balanced on her tray, she felt the weight of expectations. Claire's smile was like a crescent moon, hinted at something more—something devious , then it happened—the soup slipped
Most of it splashed onto Eveline's hand, scalding her skin. The rest found its way to Claire's dress and the pristine floor. Eveline froze, her heart pounding. Claire, ever composed, stood from her chair, tissue in hand. Her surprise was fleeting, replaced by practicality.
Eveline's apologetic gaze met Claire's
Saerom, the curly-haired friend, rushed to Eveline's side. Concern etched her features.
"Are you okay?"
Eveline nodded, her fingers trembling. Claire, however, had other thoughts. Her words, like a gentle reprimand, filled the room.
"oh my heaven, Eveline, are you okay "
Claire, her hidden spark still flickering, watched as Eveline and Saerom left the room. Eveline's apology hung in the air, and Claire's response was gracious.
Akai and Zella, still recovering from the surprise, exchanged glances.
Akai's mind raced—had Eveline been scalded? Was she truly fine? His concern, hidden beneath his composed exterior, gnawed at him. Zella, who sensed Akai's turmoil, whispered
"She will be fine"
Akai`s gaze following the departing maids.
Duke Akai still concern, but nodded for hoping the same.
But Claire turned the attention on her and her priceless dress.
She stood before the gilded frame, her reflection revealed more than fabric and frills. The dress, once a symbol of elegance, now clung to her like a reminder. Its delicate lace bore the weight of spilled soup, a stain etched into its very fibers.
"This,"
she muttered,
"was one of my favourite dresses."
Her voice, usually composed, now held an edge.
As the dining room settled back into its rhythm, Duke Akai couldn't stop wonder.
Claire's hidden spark—the one that danced in her eyes—was a puzzle. What lay behind her gracious facade? What secrets simmered beneath her composed demeanour?
The grand hallway echoed with Saerom's hurried steps, dragging Eveline along. The darkness outside pressed against the windows, a silent witness to their urgency.
Saerom burst into one of the rooms, her voice calling for the nurse—an echo swallowed by silence. Jars were opened, searched, and found wanting. Bandages remained elusive.
Eveline, left alone, replayed the scene—the spilled soup, Claire's knowing smile. Had it been intentional? Lost in her thoughts
And then, a familiar voice—Akai—interrupted her reverie. He stood there, a shadow softened by moonbeams. His gaze, like polished obsidian, admired the girl before him. Her emerald eyes reflected uncertainty, pain hidden behind a brave facade.
"Does it hurt?"
Akai's voice, serious yet gentle, cut through the room. Eveline met his gaze, her hand concealed. She whispered that she was fine, but her eyes betrayed her
He longed to comfort her, to offer solace for the scalded hand and the ache hidden behind her brave facade. But his bride, the one who held his heart, stood between them.
Akai nodded—an unspoken agreement. He turned away, the moonlight following him like a loyal companion.
Eveline standing there, the room's silence wrapping around her like a shroud.
Duke Akai's unexpected presence lingered—a comfort to her wounded situation. Very much unexpected of someone like him.
She whispered to herself saying "Maybe I should not judge a book by its cover"
Her thoughts scattered as Saerom burst back into the room, bandages in hand.
As she wrapped the bandages, Eveline's mind raced. Akai had left an impression His serious demeanour held layers—perhaps more than the polished nobility allowed. Eveline wanted to know more.
As the girls stepped outside, laughter and chatter enveloped them. The dorm's courtyard buzzed with life, and there, in the midst of it all, was Floral—balancing on roller skates. Her determination was evident, her movements tentative yet spirited.
Eveline and Saerom exchanged glances. Their eyes sparkled—a shared desire to try those skates.
But the line formed, a queue of eager skaters waiting their turn. Saerom, about to ask if they could jump ahead, was halted by the others. They reminded her:
"Wait your turn."
Eveline nodded, her smile acknowledging the fairness of it all.
And then, as they joined the line, they wished Floral a happy birthday. The roller skates, a gift from her parents
The pleasantries echoed through the mansion, reaching every nook and cranny.
Claire, perched on the balcony on her room with Jennifer and Clarie`s cat Bella nestled in her lap, wondered about the source of mirth. As they heard some commotion, they descended down the stairs, Zella joined them, equally curious. The courtyard embraced them, laughter enveloping the night.
Jennifer's voice filled with disgust
"Is this how commoner enjoy their time?"
She asked Claire, beside her. Bella purred, a feline spectator to the human comedy. Claire nodded, her gaze following.
"I guess so,"
She murmured, her fingers absently stroking Bella's fur.
Duke Zella, beside them, rolled his eyes.
"And what's wrong with that?"
he quipped.
"It actually looks fun."
Jennifer, sensing his annoyance, tightened her grip on his arm.
"Zella, my dear"
she chided,
"don't say that. Let's just get inside"
She continued
"I want to tell you what happened at Miss Victoria's tea party. You won't believe it."
Duke Akai, immersed in his work, was a fortress of concentration. The office walls held his focus, and the world beyond blurred into insignificance. And then, a knock—a disruption to his fortress. "Come in," he said
Claire entered, her eyes searching. Akai's gaze remained fixed on the paper, the ink flowing from his pen. She approached his leather chair
Undeterred, Claire leaned in—a feminine touch, the pen, now in her hand, bridged the gap. Her face, near his, and his scent enveloped her.
Akai, the stoic figure, stood as Claire prepared for her next move. His gaze shifted to Bella, the cat perched on one of the chairs. Bella, with her feline curiosity, observed the unfolding drama.
Duke Akai took a few steps, retrieving his jacket from the chair Bella had claimed.
And left the office. Claire, still seated and perplexed, watched Bella- her child. Their eyes met, and then, as if in agreement, Bella leaped from the chair, following Claire out of the office.
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