Chapter 3

Half a month after the wedding, news came from the Sinclair Estate. Using Northwarden Manor's need for extra help as an excuse, Mrs. Sinclair sent me there.

To outsiders, she claimed I was only going as a rough servant to help out. In reality, she was sending me there to handle Charlotte's affairs and work like unpaid help.

I didn't refuse. There wasn't the slightest ripple on my face.

They thought I was stupid, obedient, and too spineless to fight back. They were wrong.

I wanted in. I wanted to see how Charlotte would trample over my past and show it off like it belonged to her.

The gates of Northwarden Manor stood tall and imposing. Dressed in coarse clothes, I kept my head down and followed behind the housekeeper.

On my first day in the manor, the housekeeper assigned me the job of washing clothes for the inner courtyard. That courtyard was very close to Alexander Warren's study.

I kept my head down and scrubbed the soaked clothes with care. The skin on my fingertips quickly turned pale from the water, and steam blurred my vision.

Around noon, Alexander Warren returned from outside. He wore fitted training clothes, his posture straight and his presence impossible to ignore.

When he passed the drying racks, his steps were light, but there was a steadiness to them that couldn't be ignored. He paused.

With my back to him, I didn't turn around. I just kept wringing out the clothes in my hands, using more force than usual.

Alexander Warren stood behind me as if for a very long time. My back went ramrod straight in that instant.

I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing on my shoulders like an invisible mountain. At last, he spoke.

"You're from the Sinclair family?"

His voice was low, carrying the kind of pressure that didn't need anger to intimidate.

The clothes slipped from my hands, splashing up a little water. I turned around and bowed my head in greeting.

My posture was respectful, not overstepping in the slightest.

"General, I'm the Sinclair family's eldest daughter. I was sent here by Madam to help out at the manor."

I put extra weight on the words help out. As I bowed, my hand showed slightly.

At that very moment, Alexander Warren's gaze locked onto my wrist. He didn't look away.

His eyes were like blades, cutting straight through my disguise. A chill of being seen through ran through me.

Silence spread through the whole courtyard. That silence was like hardened amber, trapping both him and me inside it.

I realized he was looking at my scar. Instinctively, I drew my wrist back slightly into my sleeve, trying to hide it.

But his voice rang out again.

"No need to hide it."

Just three simple words. Yet they hit my heart like a thunderclap.

I jerked my head up to look at him. His eyes were deep and calm, with no obvious emotion in them.

We faced each other for a moment. Then Alexander Warren turned and left.

His steps were still steady. But this time, I felt that when he walked away, his pace slowed for half a beat.

As if he were waiting for something, or maybe thinking something over. At that moment, it felt like something struck my heart.

That evening, Rose, Charlotte's personal maid, came to see me with a look of open arrogance. She came looking for me.

Her smile never reached her eyes.

"Miss Sinclair, Madam says you'll be helping full-time in the back kitchen from now on."

Her gaze held barely disguised contempt.

"No need to wander around the front courtyard anymore, unless you want to offend someone important."

I smiled and agreed. There was a chill in that smile that was hard to miss.

"Of course. I'll do as I'm told."

But in my heart, I already understood. Charlotte had seen it.

She had seen Alexander Warren stop behind me. She had seen the way he focused on that scar.

She was scared. And that fear was the perfect fuel for my next move.