Chapter 3 – The Maid

The bell rang again, like it knew my name.

My bedroom felt too small for my new face. Dust floated in the morning light, like tiny witnesses. The incense on my desk still smoked, thin and stubborn. My mirror caught the edge of my blond hair, then flashed my villain eyes back at me.

《If I were you, I wouldn’t answer that door…》

My hand froze halfway to the handle, fingers hovering like they forgot how to work. The bell’s echo bounced around my skull, then settled behind my teeth. My heart thumped hard, and I hated how loud it was.

“Why?”

I leaned closer to the door, listening for footsteps. The hallway stayed quiet, which felt worse than noise. Silence in this castle always meant someone planned something.

《That Elizabeth… well, I can’t say much, but she’s trouble.》

My stomach dropped, and my pride tried to catch it. I straightened my coat collar, like that could make me less panicked. It did not.

“That’s my maid.”

I tasted the word maid like it was a bad joke. It sounded too normal for my life. It sounded like I lived in a story with rules.

“She hates me.”

I pressed my ear to the wood, then pulled back fast, like the door might bite. The bell rang again, sharper this time. It felt like a countdown.

《Be careful with her.》

I swallowed, throat dry.

“Cool, yeah, super helpful.”

I dragged my fingers through my hair, and the blond strands slid through like silk. It felt wrong, like stolen clothes. My eyes in the mirror looked too sharp, like they were ready to start problems.

..
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.

I paced three steps, then hit my desk. The desk held an open book, a chipped teacup, and a bowl of cold incense ash. A small black crow figure sat beside the cup, carved from stone, watching me like it had opinions.

“Okay, talk to me.”

My voice came out low, like I feared the walls.

“What changed.”

I stared at the door again, then at my reflection, then at the bed. Blaze’s ghost sat there like a bored roommate, glowing faintly, looking way too calm for someone trapped in my head.

“Something happened, and I need the whole thing.”

My fingers tapped my thigh, fast, like I was sending a distress message in morse code.

“Like, did everyone see me pass out.”

“Like, did you die.”

“Like, did I just become the hero’s twin.”

The bell rang again, and the sound cut my thoughts in half.

《The spell rewrote all memories. Now you are the hero and the villain at the same time.》

The words hit like cold water.

My mouth opened, and nothing came out.

My brain tried to picture it, then immediately rejected the image like it was illegal.

I took one shaky breath, then another.

“That makes zero sense.”

My voice cracked, and I hated that it did.

“That’s not how anything works.”

My hands clenched into fists, then unclenched, because I realized my nails were digging into my palms. The pain grounded me, which was pathetic, but also useful.

“You’re telling me everyone just accepted that.”

The bell rang again, and it sounded closer now, like whoever was outside moved nearer.

“Okay, no.”

I shook my head hard, like I could shake the logic loose.

“No cap, this is a nightmare.”

“Someone will notice.”

“She will notice.”

My eyes flicked to the mirror again, and my reflection looked like it wanted to punch me. Blond hair, hero coat, villain eyes. I looked like a walking plot twist.

《You need to choose what you do next.》

My jaw tightened.

“I choose not dying.”

I stepped to the door, then stopped, because my hand refused to touch the handle. My whole body screamed that opening it was a bad idea.

“Is she alone.”

My throat felt tight, like the question cost me pride.

《I don’t know.》

That answer made my skin crawl.

“How do you not know.”

“You’re literally haunting me.”

“Can’t you like, sense stuff.”

I pressed my fingertips to my temples, as if my skull had settings.

“Do you get any hero perks.”

“Or is it just the trauma package.”

《I told you, I can’t say much.》

My teeth ground together.

“Okay, you are so annoying.”

“Like, highkey, dead annoying.”

The bell rang again, then a knock followed it, slow and polite, like a threat wearing manners.

My spine stiffened.

My lungs forgot how to breathe for a second.

..
.
.

I stepped back from the door, then leaned in again, because my body couldn’t decide. The wooden panels looked solid, heavy, old. The iron handle gleamed, clean and cruel. The gap under the door stayed dark, like it hid a mouth.

“Elizabeth.”

The name slipped out like a curse.

I hated how real it sounded, like she owned space in my life.

I tried to remember her face, the way she stared through me, the way she spoke like her words never wasted air. I remembered her eyes, red and sharp, like she saw every lie before it formed.

My stomach twisted harder.

If Blaze was right, she might see me as him now.

That should have made it easy.

It did not.

Because she would still be her.

And she was trouble, apparently.

The bell rang again, and then a voice slid under the door, calm and cold.

“Lord Blaze, open the door.”

Her voice hit my chest like a shove.

I flinched, then forced my shoulders down, like I remembered to be a person.

I glanced at Blaze’s ghost.

He stared back, expression flat.

The bell did not stop.

My mouth went dry.

“That is her.”

My voice came out quiet, which made me feel weak.

“She called you Lord Blaze.”

I pressed my fingertips to my lips, trying to think.

If I said nothing, she would keep ringing.

If I opened the door, she would see me.

If she saw my eyes too long, Blaze warned me.

I hated everything about this.

《Do not let her control the pace.》

I stared at him.

“That is rich.”

“She is literally controlling the pace with a bell.”

The bell rang again, like it agreed.

I stepped closer to the door and forced my posture straight. I rolled my shoulders back, then tried to look bored.

My face did not cooperate.

Fear kept sneaking into my expression like a glitch.

I practiced a smirk in the mirror, quick.

It looked arrogant, but my eyes looked scared.

It was a mess.

It was me.

..
.
.

I inhaled, slow.

I reached for the handle, slower.

The metal felt cold, like it had waited for my panic.

I did not open it yet.

I spoke through the wood, hoping my voice sounded like Blaze, or at least like someone who slept at night.

“Why are you ringing my door like it owes you money?”

Silence followed, long enough to make my pulse spike.

Then her voice returned, even calmer.

“Because you did not answer the first time.”

I stared at the door like it was a person.

That response felt like a knife wrapped in silk.

I swallowed.

“Okay, fair.”

My hand tightened on the handle, then loosened, because I realized I was gripping too hard.

“What’s up.”

Her voice stayed steady, no emotion, no warmth.

“Your schedule.”

My brows lifted.

“What schedule.”

Another pause, measured.

“The schedule you requested yesterday.”

My stomach dropped.

Yesterday.

I barely survived today.

I glanced at Blaze’s ghost, and he did not react.

He looked like he expected me to improvise, which was evil.

“Tell me it through the door.”

I cringed at my grammar, then tried to recover with attitude.

“Like, read it to me.”

Silence again, and I could almost feel her staring at the door, unimpressed.

“You want me to read it through the door.”

My ears burned.

“Yeah.”

I forced the word out like it was normal.

“I’m busy.”

I was busy being terrified, but that did not sound heroic.

Her voice lowered a fraction.

“Open the door.”

My chest tightened.

My fingers twitched on the handle.

I pictured Elizabeth stepping in, seeing my hair, my coat, my face.

I pictured her eyes narrowing, her gaze lingering on my eyes.

I pictured her realizing something was wrong.

And then what.

She would call guards.

Or she would smile.

Or she would do something worse.

《Do not open it wide.》

I stared at Blaze, then breathed out.

“Thanks.”

I shifted my stance, then cracked the door open just a sliver.

Light from the hallway slid into my room, bright and thin, like a blade.

I kept my face angled down, letting my hair shadow my eyes.

I did not see her, and that was on purpose.

Her presence still felt there, like cold air.

“Better.”

Her voice did not change.

“Now look at me.”

My throat went tight.

I forced a laugh, sharp and fake.

“Why, you miss me.”

The silence after that felt dangerous.

Then her voice came back, soft, controlled.

“You are acting strange.”

My spine went rigid.

I pulled the door a little wider, then stopped again.

I still did not let her into the room.

I still did not let her see my eyes fully.

“Strange is my love language.”

That joke tasted bitter.

It sounded like me, not Blaze.

It was a mistake.

“That is not funny.”

Her tone stayed flat, but it carried weight.

I felt sweat prickle under my collar.

“Okay, sorry.”

The word sorry slipped out without permission.

I winced.

Heroes did not apologize for existing, Blaze said.

I was cooked.

..
.
.

I shifted my grip, trying to be smoother.

I leaned against the doorframe, trying to look like I owned air.

“Read me the schedule.”

Her reply came fast.

“You have morning training, then council review, then the chapel report.”

My stomach sank with each item.

Training sounded like pain.

Council sounded like getting exposed.

Chapel sounded like a trap with candles.

I nodded even though she could not see it.

“Cool.”

My voice wobbled, so I added attitude like duct tape.

“Anything else.”

“Your uniform needs correction.”

I glanced down at my coat.

The buttons were still wrong.

Of course she noticed.

“I like it like this.”

Silence again.

The bell did not ring now.

That was worse.

“You are not Blaze.”

Her words landed clean.

My blood went cold.

My grip on the door tightened so hard my knuckles hurt.

My brain screamed, deny, deny, deny.

My mouth opened, and nothing came out.

I swallowed and forced sound.

“That is a wild thing to say.”

Her voice stayed calm, almost bored.

“Look at me.”

My heart thumped once, heavy.

I tilted my head, letting my hair fall forward more.

I gave her the smirk again, arrogant and shaky.

“How about you mind your job.”

Another pause.

Her voice softened, and that softness felt like a blade too.

“My job is you.”

My stomach flipped.

That line had subtext, and I did not like it.

I tried to laugh again, but it came out weak.

“That’s… intense.”

Her reply came quiet.

“It is accurate.”

My palms felt damp on the metal.

I wanted to slam the door.

I wanted to open it and run.

I wanted to disappear.

Instead, I stood there, stuck between the crack of a door and a life I did not recognize.

《Careful.》

I barely moved my lips.

“Shut up.”

I hated how childish that sounded.

I hated that I needed him.

Her voice returned, lower now.

“Your eyes.”

My breath stopped.

My whole body froze.

My eyes.

She was on it.

I forced my voice steady.

“What about them.”

“The way you are hiding them.”

My fingers twitched.

I almost pulled the door shut, then stopped, because that would look guilty.

I stayed still, and stillness felt like a confession.

“I’m not hiding.”

Her voice stayed calm.

“You are.”

I felt sweat slide down my back.

I hated that my body betrayed me like this.

..
.
.

I shifted my stance, trying to change the angle.

I forced my shoulders loose, like I was relaxed.

I let a little more light fall on my face, but not my eyes.

I tried to sound like Blaze would, short and flat.

“What do you want.”

Her answer came immediate.

“To confirm you are well.”

I almost laughed, because well was not a word that belonged to me.

“I’m fine.”

Silence stretched again.

Then she spoke, quieter.

“Say my name.”

My throat tightened.

That question felt like a test.

It felt like she held a knife under the door.

I licked my lips, slow.

“Elizabeth.”

Her breathing changed, just slightly.

It was so small I almost missed it.

“Again.”

My pulse jumped.

“Elizabeth.”

Another pause.

“One more time.”

My skin prickled.

I could not tell if she was mocking me, or checking me, or something worse.

“Elizabeth.”

Silence.

The hallway air felt colder.

My bedroom felt hotter.

I kept my face angled down, like my hair could protect me.

Then her voice came again, soft and controlled.

“You used to say it like you hated it.”

My stomach sank.

That was true.

I hated that she knew.

I hated that Blaze’s memory rewrite did not erase her observation skills.

I tried to recover with a smirk.

“Maybe I grew up.”

Her reply came sharp, quick.

“You do not grow overnight.”

I felt my jaw clench.

I wanted to snap back, to be mean, to push her away.

That habit rose up like a reflex.

It tasted familiar.

It tasted safe.

I forced it down, because Blaze told me to be smart.

“Okay, what do you want me to do.”

Her answer came smooth.

“Open the door properly.”

I breathed out, slow.

“No.”

Silence hit hard.

Then her voice returned, colder.

“You are afraid of me.”

My mouth went dry.

I wanted to deny it.

I wanted to laugh.

I wanted to say no cap, you are the one scared.

I said something worse.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

My voice cracked.

She did not need to see my eyes to know.

..
.
.

The bell stopped ringing.

That should have felt like relief.

It felt like the calm before something.

Her voice came again, quiet.

“Then look at me.”

My chest tightened.

My fingers trembled on the handle.

I stared at the crack, at the slice of hallway light, at the invisible presence waiting.

I thought of Blaze’s warning.

I thought of her red eyes.

I thought of the church, the chapel, the schedule, the lie I now wore like a coat.

I swallowed.

“Later.”

Her reply came instant.

“No.”

The word slammed into me.

My knees felt weak, and I hated that too.

I forced my posture straighter, forcing arrogance like a mask.

“You’re being pushy.”

Her voice stayed steady.

“You are being suspicious.”

My throat tightened.

I did not know what to say that would not expose me.

I did not know how Blaze acted with her.

I only knew how I acted.

And my default setting was disaster.

“Just give me a minute.”

A pause.

Then her voice softened again, just slightly.

“Are you hurt.”

That question hit different.

It almost sounded like concern.

It almost sounded like she cared.

It also sounded like a trap.

I gripped the handle tighter.

“I’m not hurt.”

Another pause.

Then she spoke, low.

“Then why does your voice shake.”

My breath caught.

I forced a laugh, brittle.

“It doesn’t.”

Silence.

Then a soft sound, like cloth shifting.

Like she moved closer.

Like she leaned toward the crack.

“Open the door.”

My pulse jumped.

The crack of light widened a hair, because my hand slipped.

I caught it fast.

My fingers felt numb.

《Do not.》

I barely breathed.

“I know.”

The air felt heavy, like the castle itself listened.

Then her voice came again, calm as ever.

“I will wait.”

My throat tightened.

“Don’t.”

“Why.”

The single word felt like a hook.

I stared at the door, and the door stared back.

My hands shook.

My smirk in the mirror looked arrogant, and my eyes looked terrified.

The handle clicked, just once, like her patience ended.