Chapter 4
Workplace Reconnaissance (Oh No, He's Hot)
"The green day dress, I think," Carol said, examining the options Daisy had laid out. "Something comfortable but presentable."
Daisy and Millie exchanged another one of those looks—the kind that said they were trying to figure out if their lady had been possessed by a friendly ghost.
"The green is lovely, my lady," Millie said softly, helping Carol out of her nightgown. "Are you certain you're feeling well? You've seemed... different this morning."
"I'm feeling better than I have in a while, actually," Carol said truthfully. She caught sight of Lumi hovering near her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile. Missy was sulking near the window, clearly unhappy about the direction things were going.
As the maids helped her dress, Carol studied them more carefully.
Daisy was indeed the more expressive one—her face showed every emotion clearly, and she had a tendency to fill silences with chatter.
Millie was quieter, more observant, her eyes constantly scanning the room as if looking for threats.
Both of them clearly cared about Original Caroline, despite everything. That was... something. At least she had two allies in this house.
"There," Daisy said, stepping back to admire her work. "You look beautiful, my lady."
Carol looked at herself in the mirror. The green dress brought out the amber in her eyes, and her honey-blonde hair had been swept up in a simple but elegant style. She looked like a proper duchess.
Now to act like one.
"Perfect. Thank you both." Carol turned to them with a smile. "I'd like you to accompany me on a tour of the estate. I want to see everything—the halls, the common areas, the kitchens, the gardens, and the training grounds."
Daisy's eyes widened. "The training grounds, my lady?"
"Is that a problem?"
"N-no, my lady," Daisy said quickly. "It's just... you've never wanted to go near there before. His Grace trains there with his men."
"All the more reason to see it," Carol said. "This is my home now. I should know what goes on in it."
Millie and Daisy exchanged glances again, but both nodded.
"Of course, my lady," Millie said quietly. "Shall we begin?"
◆◆◆
The first thing Carol noticed as they left her chambers was how the servants reacted to her presence.
A young maid carrying linens saw her coming down the hallway and actually yelped, pressing herself against the wall and ducking her head so hard her chin nearly touched her chest.
"G-good morning, Your Grace," the girl stammered, not making eye contact.
Carol stopped, and the maid flinched.
"Good morning," Carol said gently. "What's your name?"
The maid's head shot up, her eyes wide with shock. "I... my name, Your Grace?"
"Yes. I'd like to know who you are."
"Annie, Your Grace," the girl whispered, looking like she might cry.
"It's nice to meet you, Annie." Carol smiled. "Have a good day."
She continued walking, leaving a very confused Annie behind. Beside her, Daisy and Millie were staring at her like she'd grown a second head.
"What?" Carol asked.
"You've never asked a servant's name before, my lady," Millie said carefully.
"Well, that was rude of me," Carol said. "I should know the people who work in my home."
"This is so BORING," Missy said from her shoulder. "Why are you being nice to everyone? Caroline never did this."
"She's being kind," Lumi corrected, beaming. "This is wonderful!"
They continued through the halls, and the pattern repeated. Servants scattered at the sight of her, pressing themselves against walls, ducking into doorways, practically trembling. Carol's heart sank a little more with each encounter.
She really had been terrible, hadn't she?
The dining room was elegant but clearly designed for formal occasions.
Carol remembered—no, Original Caroline remembered—the disastrous dinner where she'd tried to poison Caspian's wine.
They'd been seated at opposite ends of a long table, the distance between them as vast as the emotional gulf in their marriage.
"You rarely use this room," Daisy offered, noticing Carol's expression. "His Grace prefers to take his meals in his study or with his men."
"And I've been taking mine in my chambers," Carol finished.
"Yes, my lady."
Of course. Two people living in the same house but never actually seeing each other. That would have to change.
The kitchen was next, and Carol's stomach twisted with guilt as they approached.
The cook—a stout woman in her fifties with gray-streaked hair—looked up as they entered and immediately went pale.
"Your Grace," she said, curtsying quickly. "I wasn't expecting—is something wrong with your meals? I can prepare—"
"Nothing's wrong," Carol interrupted gently. The woman flinched anyway. Carol took a deep breath. "Actually, I came to apologize."
The kitchen went silent. Every servant in the room stopped what they were doing to stare.
"Apologize, Your Grace?" the cook repeated, clearly not believing her ears.
"I threw a plate at you last week," Carol said. "Because the soup was too cold. That was unacceptable behavior, and I'm deeply sorry. You work hard to prepare excellent meals, and you didn't deserve that."
The cook's mouth opened and closed several times. Around them, the other kitchen staff were frozen in shock.
"I... Your Grace, I..." The cook's eyes were actually tearing up. "Thank you. I... thank you."
"You're welcome," Carol said. "And I'd love to have whatever you're preparing for lunch today, if that's alright. It smells wonderful."
She left the kitchen to stunned silence, with Daisy and Millie hurrying to keep up.
"My lady," Millie said quietly once they were out of earshot. "What's happened to you?"
Carol glanced at her. "What do you mean?"
"You've been so unhappy since coming here," Millie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Crying, throwing things, locked in your rooms. And now you're... different."
"I decided I was tired of being miserable," Carol said simply. It was even true, in a way. "Life is too short to spend it angry at everyone."
Especially when being angry is going to get me executed in little over a year, she added silently.
They continued through the estate—the library (gorgeous, clearly unused by Original Caroline), the parlor (elegant and cold), the various sitting rooms (all immaculate and empty). Every room was beautiful, expensive, and utterly devoid of warmth.
Finally, they stepped outside into the gardens.
Carol gasped.
They were even more beautiful up close than they'd been from her window.
Spring flowers bloomed in glorious profusion—roses in every color, dahlias as big as dinner plates, lavender filling the air with its scent.
Stone pathways wound through perfectly manicured hedges, and the fountain she'd seen from her window sparkled in the sunlight.
"This is incredible," Carol breathed.
"His Grace employs the best gardeners in the kingdom," Daisy said. "He wanted you to have beautiful views from your chambers."
Another gift. Another attempt to make her comfortable while keeping her at arm's length.
Carol was starting to understand Caspian Vanthorn a bit better.
He was a man who'd been trapped in a marriage he didn't want, with a woman who'd been obsessed with someone else and made his life miserable at every turn.
So he'd given her everything material she could want and simply... removed himself from the equation.
It was practical. It was sad. And it was about to change.
"The training grounds are this way, my lady," Millie said, gesturing to a path that led around the side of the estate.
Carol's heart rate picked up. "Lead the way."
As they walked, she could hear sounds in the distance—the clash of steel, shouted commands, the organized chaos of military training. They rounded a corner, and the training grounds came into view.
It was a large open area with a packed dirt floor, surrounded by a low stone wall. Racks of weapons lined one side—swords, spears, bows. Training dummies stood at attention. And in the center, a group of men in light armor were engaged in combat drills.
Carol scanned the training ground, looking for—
Original Caroline's memories supplied the answer before she could finish the thought. There. The man in the center with silver hair, sparring with another man.
Her husband.
Caspian Vanthorn was... breathtaking.
Tall—easily over six feet—with broad shoulders and a warrior's build that spoke of years of training.
His silver hair was pulled back in a low tie, the length falling just past his shoulders, though a few strands had escaped to frame the sharp lines of his face.
Even from this distance, Carol could see the focused intensity in his green eyes.
He moved like water and lightning combined—fluid grace one moment, explosive power the next.
His sword flashed in the sun as he drove his opponent back, then spun away from a counterattack with casual ease.
His shirt was unlaced at the neck and damp with sweat, clinging to his chest and shoulders in a way that made Carol's mouth go dry.
"Oh no," she whispered.
"My lady?" Daisy asked.
"He's..." Carol couldn't finish the sentence. He's gorgeous. He's powerful. He's absolutely terrifying and somehow that makes him more attractive and what is wrong with me?
Suddenly, a blue interface window popped up in front of her face:
TARGET ANALYSIS:
Full Name: Caspian Elric Vanthorn
Age: 26
Level: ??? (Target's power exceeds measurement capabilities)
Class: Mage Warrior (Legendary Tier)
Specialties/Role:
● Military Commander (Northern Frostmarch Defense)
● Duke of Vanthorn
● Border Guardian against The Blight
● Master Tactician
Abilities:
● Matter Manipulation (Unique/Legendary Affinity)
● Master Swordsman (Dual-Wield Specialist)
● Enhanced Physical Abilities
● Poison Immunity
● Magic Resistance (High)
Background: