It was just this year that Mary had started working as a maid, and she had come to the conclusion that Violet S. Everett was very different from the rumors about her.
The Violet who Mary saw was, to put it simply, a quiet person who kept to herself.
She slept most hours of the day, and when it came to eating, sheâd have to be served food against her will, lest sheâd skip most her meals.
It was in stark contrast to the rumors about how she would go ahead and have a servantâs tongue cut off if they so much say the wrong thing.
You could hardly say that Violet was harsh with the servants. She never yelled at them, and she never nitpicked their mistakes.
She would only keep to herself, as though she was not there.
Perhaps it was because of this that Mary started doubting if Mikhailâs attitude towards Violet, when he had come to the annex the other day, was warranted.
There was a time when Mary herself had her wrist forcibly grabbed by someone she did not wish to see, and so she had come to think that the householdâs eldest son was a very frightening person.
On the other hand, the rest of the annexâs servants were ill at ease around the ducal lady. Some of them had worked for quite a long time here at the duchy, and they had first-hand accounts of Violetâs viciousness.
It was a common notion amongst them that Violet thought of a servantâs life to be lighter than the weight of a single sheet of paper.
They also heard of a time when she had poured scalding tea on her younger sister.
And, there was even a rumor going around that one particular maid, who had been taking care of her thus far, had her eyes mercilessly gouged out of their sockets.
The wicked woman of House Everett. The witch of the century, who had a glacier for a heart.
Nevertheless, in Maryâs eyes, she was simply just a quiet person who seemed to have a lot of wounds.
The head maid repeatedly told Mary to be careful, however she had already stopped being terrified of Violet. Instead, she was even comfortable around her.
And true enough, even as Violet saw just how at ease Mary had become around her, she just let the young maid be.
âThe sunlight isnât enough here.â
âWould you like me to fetch a lamp, Milady?â
âItâs alright. Itâs not to the point that I canât draw.â
At first glance, it seemed as if Violet had a sacred aura about her as she sat there, against the sunâs illumination, drawing silently.
With silver hair gently that meandered along with the passing breeze, with calm, purple eyes that held the depth of an abyss. And, with lips, carefully closed, that contained a hint of persistence.
At least, during this brief moment, as Violet was sketching beneath this sunny spot, her appearance was truly far from the image of the wicked woman from all those rumors.
ââŚPretty.â
Thatâs why the word unknowingly popped out.
At Maryâs murmur, Violet suppressed a chuckle.
Only then did Mary realize just what she said, and she hurriedly covered her mouth.
Violet continued moving her hand, which was holding a pencil.
After she was confined to this annex, not once did Violet endeavor to take special care of her appearance. She didnât try to maintain her clear skin, nor did she even try to control her diet for the sake of her weight.
Thatâs why Violet couldnât figure out why Mary even said that after looking at her.
Still, she did not hate the innocent girlâs admiration. So, she let her be.
Violet sometimes showed her artwork to Mary.
Unlike the bold brushstrokes that she applied onto a canvas that first day, Violet had just been doodling on a sketchbook for a while now.
Well, in Maryâs eyes, they literally were âdoodlesâ. Really, like worms wriggling about on the pageâdoodles that didnât look like art.
âUmm. Iâm sure that it contains Miladyâs feelings, soâŚâ
âYou donât have to force yourself to compliment me.â
ââŚâŚâ
At the sight of the little girl who couldnât bring herself to lie, Violet smiled as she patted Maryâs head. Not long after, Maryâs face grew bright red.
She did those doodles only a couple of days ago, but Violetâs drawing skills had undergone remarkable changes over this brief course of time.
Those haphazard strokes, which looked like wriggling earthworms, were soon infused with much elegance. Those doodles, which previously could not be properly identified, gradually took on proper form.
This wouldnât be possible if you were not a genius of the century.
âMilady, you must truly be a prodigy at art!â
ââŚI donât know about that.â
Itâs only because of her previous life.
An ambiguous smile found its way on Violetâs lips.
After a few days of working hard, she managed to get to a similar level to that of her art skills in her previous life, so it would be more difficult from here on out in her reincarnated life.
The rate at which her skills would improve would plateau now, slowing down without improving significantly.
In any case, this didnât matter to her. Itâs not as if sheâs planning to be a famous painter of this era.
All Violet hoped for was to enjoy a quiet life.
And so, as Violet was adjusting to her new life here at the annexâŚ
âLady A-Aileen has come to visit you, Milady.â