Veronica closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips, the delicate rise and fall of her chest almost serene.
The tension that was in the room seemed to dissolve as she let out that quiet breath.
When she opened her eyes again, they were warm, gentle, like the eyes of a kindly elder watching over a lost child.
"That's a relief, then," she murmured, a faint, almost motherly smile touching her lips.
"For a moment, I thought you might be an assassin." Her voice was light, a soft chuckle following the words as if she had just shared a silly, harmless joke. "But my suspicions are clear now. Thank you for answering me. You may leave."
And just like that, she turned away, her attention returning to the man lying on the grand, ornately carved bed.
Veronica's fingers delicately adjusted the sheets that was covering the him, her touch careful, almost reverent, as if she were handling a fragile relic.
But for the maid, no, the intruder, Veronica's sudden dismissal felt like a cold wind, a chill running down her spine.
Relief should have washed over her, should have flooded her senses at the idea that she was free to leave, but instead, dread gnawed at her.
'Leave?'
Her heart began to race.
Her gaze drifted to the door, the large, imposing frame of polished mahogany with its intricate silver designs.
It was a door she had looked at several times already, but now, as the seconds ticked by, it seemed like she knew nothing about it.
She stepped forward, one hand reaching out to the handle.
Cold metal met her fingers.
She twisted gently, but it didn't still budge.
Her breath caught.
She tried again, this time a little harder, but the result was the same, locked, solid, unyielding.
Her throat tightened.
Had she missed something?
Was there a hidden latch?
A trick to it?
She scanned the edges of the door, her eyes catching the small panel at the side, a subtle, almost invisible keypad, faintly glowing with soft blue light.
The password tool.
'Of course… the damn security measure. How could i have been so foolish to forget about this when I just found out about it earlier?'
She had saw it earlier, a quiet, unassuming thing by the doorframe, a safeguard they had supposedly installed after the failed assassination attempt.
But she had never learned the code.
No one had told her.
And now, Veronica had returned her attention fully to the lord on the bed, her back to the room, her gentle hands adjusting his blankets, her soft voice whispering calming words to the unconscious man.
It was as though the maid didn't exist, like she had already faded into the background.
A slight tremor ran through her fingers as she stood there, frozen between the door that refused her escape and the woman who seemed to have forgotten her entirely.
'What should i do?'
She could ask.
She could speak up, pretend to be confused, maybe say something about forgetting the password.
But would that work?
Would Veronica even believe her?
Or worse, would asking only deepen the woman's suspicions?
A bead of sweat traced a cold path down her forehead.
Her gaze darted back to the door.
"Is something the matter?"
Veronica's voice cut through the silence, and for a heart-stopping moment, the maid's breath seized in her chest.
But when she turned, she saw that Veronica hadn't even looked at her.
The maid was still focused on her lord, her hands gently brushing his dark hair from his face, her expression tender and sorrowful.
"N-No… nothing," the second maid managed, her voice catching, but she quickly masked it with a forced calm. "I was just… I thought I might have dropped something."
"Ah, I see," Veronica said, not even turning her head. "Be careful not to disturb him. His condition is delicate enough as it is."
The maid's fingers curled into a tight fist, hidden by the folds of her apron.
Panic gnawed at her, a slow, insidious dread.
She needed to get out.
She needed to escape.
But how?
Veronica remained a calm, immovable presence, her gentle voice a quiet murmur of reassurances whispered to the unconscious lord.
The maid forced herself to breathe, to think.
Her mind raced, analyzing every possibility, every escape route.
But each plan seemed to crumble beneath the weight of uncertainty.
If she fumbled, if she showed fear, it was over.
For now, she would have to be patient.
She would have to stay calm, watch for an opening, and when the time came… she would take it.
The maid's eyes never left Veronica, her expression calm but her thoughts a storm beneath the surface.
Her fingers moved slowly, almost instinctively, behind her back, her fingertips brushing against the cold, hidden steel strapped beneath the folds of her maid uniform.
'It looks like I'll just have to deal with her now,' she thought, her grip tightening, her heartbeat a steady, controlled rhythm.
She calculated the distance between them, the steps she would need, the precise strike that would silence Veronica for good.
But just as she shifted her weight, preparing to lunge...
A sudden, sharp gasp filled the room.
The figure lying motionless on the grand, ornate bed moved.