- Pov seline, third wife -

The air was laden with strangeness. Clara, my loyal maid, had yet to return. A considerable amount of time had passed since I sent her on a simple task. Her delay was intriguing, and it left me uncomfortable.

"What do you think? Which dress should I choose?" The melodious timbre of the first wife echoed through the room.

I turned my gaze to her, a familiar and beloved figure from my childhood. She was gazing at her reflection in the mirror, holding in each hand a dress - one red as the fire of dusk, and the other blue, reminiscent of a clear sunny day's sky.

"Choose the red," I replied, my voice sounding strangely distant. "It matches your eyes and hair." Thoughts about Clara continued to plague me. What could be delaying her? Had something happened?

"Hey, is something going on? You're quieter than usual." The voice of the first wife pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked at her, finding a pair of eyes full of concern. That expression transported me back to our childhood days. 

An involuntary smile formed on my lips. The image of a red-haired little girl, running barefoot through the verdant and flower-filled garden of the baron's son, flooded my mind. The days of innocence and laughter seemed so distant now, but the memory was still capable of bringing a sense of warmth and joy.

"Clara is really taking a while to bring that servant we met yesterday here," I commented, allowing a light tone of concern to infiltrate my voice. I noticed the first wife, with a subtle movement, raised an eyebrow, but did not express surprise. It seemed more as if she had been anticipating my unease.

"You took your time. I thought you were going to talk to him yesterday itself," she said, a touch of disappointment tingeing her words. I could not help but wonder what this fire-haired creature thought of me at that moment.

"I was tied up with Leon, so I couldn't. But, do you think everything's okay?" I asked, shifting my gaze to her. The first wife knew exactly what I was talking about - the incident from last night, which still remained fresh in our memories.

"I just wanted to see how he would react, there was nothing more behind it. I just didn't expect him to want to touch me and that such a genuine smile would spread across his face," she said, her voice soft, but laden with emotion. She traced her finger along her nose, a gesture I know well: a clear sign of her nervousness or discomfort when confronted with complex feelings.

This habit, which she often displayed when we were younger, took me by surprise. I thought she had abandoned these idiosyncrasies of her childhood, but there it was, manifesting again. A tangible reminder of our days of innocence, a reminiscence of a simpler time that now seemed so distant.

"Putting these concerns aside for a moment," the first wife articulated, her voice charged with barely disguised curiosity, "what have you planned to surprise our husband?" Her eyes gleamed with anticipation, as if she were eager to partake in a secret.

Surprise? I had one up my sleeve that I knew he would appreciate, but I had no intention of sharing it with her. A veil of mystery seemed more appealing at this moment. "I haven't planned any surprise. And you?" I in quired, keeping my voice casual and indifferent. However, I noticed she narrowed her eyes in my direction. She had detected my lie, but would not reveal my secret.

"Oh, I have something prepared that he will certainly love. Did you know that before he left, he asked me to do something that none of us other wives ever did?" She said, presumption tingeing her voice. Curiosity pricked me, what could that be?

Her face transformed into a triumphant expression, clearly enjoying the fact that I was curious. "Okay, what's your surprise?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

A mischievous smile formed on her lips. "He asked me not to shave. That's exactly what I did. And there's something more that I won't reveal now." She spoke, a soft laugh dancing in her voice. That woman, she knew how to instigate others' curiosity. She not only made me more intrigued, but also made me question what else she might be hiding.

Knock knock

"Ma'am, I have arrived." With an echo of insecurity permeating each syllable, Clara's voice reverberated from the other side of the door, bathing the room's silence with a layer of tension. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Clara had arrived. However, there was something strangely different about her tone. It felt like she was carrying the weight of fear in her voice.

"Come in, Clara," I said, attempting to keep my voice calm and steady. The door slowly opened, revealing Clara in her servant's dress. Something I noticed almost immediately was her solitude. Where was the servant I had asked her to bring?

Noticing my confusion, Clara quickly explained, her eyes averting from mine. "Ma'am, I went to the servant's room, as you had ordered. However, when I was halfway here bringing him, Miss Celeste intercepted us and asked the servant to perform a task."

My surprise at hearing Clara mention Celeste was indeed a shock. Celeste, the person who declaredly despised this place and never visited, was here. Moreover, although she was the daughter of our husband's sixth wife, she was already married. However, the essential problem did not lie in her family ties or her marital status, but in Celeste herself.

Celeste, the most feared of all daughters, had a skill that put her in a position of power: she has a class called seer. With the ability to look into the future, Celeste could anticipate events, make the best choices for herself, and manipulate the people around her. This ability instilled deep fear in everyone who knew her - a fear of the unknown, of what she could predict. Because of this, I always acted with extreme caution when dealing with her.

"Clara, you can go now," the first wife said, her voice sounding soft and calm. "We will talk to the servant later."

The maid lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting mine. I saw the fear etched on her face, the same fear I felt when I thought of Celeste and her ability.

"Clara," I spoke, my voice sounding softer than I expected, "you don't need to be afraid. I'm not angry at you. You did the best you could."

She nodded, visibly relieved, but there was still a shadow of fear in her eyes. She gave a small bow and then turned to leave the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

In the silence that followed, I looked at the first wife. Her gaze was fixed on the door through which Clara had exited. There was a thoughtful expression on her face, her red eyes glowing in the dim light of the room.

"What do you think about all this?" I asked the first wife, my eyes fixing on the thoughtful expression on her face. I couldn't help but feel there was something strange about that servant.

"I don't think it's just a coincidence," she replied, her finger tracing the outline of her nose, a clear sign of her nervousness. "Celeste would only pursue him if he had something special. She always seeks what brings her the greatest return."

Curiosity sparkled in her eyes, mirroring my own. "I want to see this servant now," I confessed, unable to contain my curiosity.

"Do you think if we asked Celeste, she would tell us what she had him do?" The first wife asked, a look of doubt crossing her face.

I thought for a moment, but soon shook my head. "That would be foolish. Celeste would never reveal her plans to us. She would have foreseen that Clara would seek the servant and would have planned to intercept her. Speaking with her would be a waste of time."

The first wife traced her finger along her nose again, a clear sign that she was particularly nervous. However, her eyes were full of curiosity. "Now I'm really curious," she said, her voice low and thoughtful. "Because Celeste, who always goes after something if that something brings a big return to her, then this servant must be very important, right?"

"Yes, he must be," I agreed.