The morning sun had barely kissed the stone halls of Dunham Manor when the scene unfolded.
A gaggle of servants froze mid-task—buckets hovering, brooms dangling—eyes wide in pure horror.
There stood Lady Lena, the second daugther of House Dunham, sleeves rolled up, hair half-tied, vigorously sweeping the grand foyer like a common maid.
"L-LADY LENA?!"
one stammered, nearly dropping a silver tray.
"W-What are you doing?!"
She blinked up from her work.
Lena: "Uh... cleaning?"
Another servant gasped as if she'd announced she was summoning demons.
"B-But my lady! That's our duty! You're... you're not supposed to—"
The servants exchanged panicked glances. This was either the beginning of an uprising... Or they'd all be out of jobs by next month.
Lena:"Oh... well I just want to sweep the floor that's all~"
The servants stared at her as if she'd transformed into a three-headed dragon. Another maid finally found her voice.
"But... but, why, my lady?" she asked desperately. "It's simply not proper for someone of your standing... you... you have us to do such tasks!"
Lena:"Well...I just want to do the chores because I felt like it! And besides I already ask Sophie's permission, so it'll be no problem".
A collective, pained whimper went up from the gathered servants.
"Sophie—agreed?"
One of them murmured faintly, leaning on a nearby wall. The head maid herself appeared from the halls, wiping her hands on her apron.
"That is correct, Lady Lena has my approval."
The servants traded baffled glances, watching Lena with a mix of awe—and growing dread—as she swept cheerfully in the background. The head maid sighed, shaking her head.
Sophie:"We all know how stubborn Lady Lena is, Once she has her mind set on something, you can't convince her otherwise. Even if it's as ridiculous as..."
Everyone turned to watch Lena, who was now whistling a cheerful tune and sweeping under a nearby table. A hush fell over the servants.
Lena, now casually wiping down a side table with expert precision, hummed like she wasn't causing an existential crisis in the household staff. The head-maid crossed her arms, eyeing her with reluctant admiration.
Sophie:"Laundry folded neatly. Dishes spotless. Floors so clean you could eat off them—not that I'd encourage it,"
She added quickly.
Sophie:"She even reorganized the pantry by expiration date."
One of the maids whispered,
"She did... what?"
Another clutched her chest like she might faint.
Sophie:"And worst of all, she said it was fun."
Her voice softened, almost like she was speaking more to herself than the staff now.
Sohie:"...She doesn't ask for jewelry. Doesn't demand new dresses or servants to wait on her hand and foot."
She glanced toward Lena, who had paused mid-sweep to adjust a crooked painting—gently, carefully—before going back to work.
Sophie:"She helps in the kitchen. She remembers everyone's names. Smiles even when she looks tired..."
A pause.
Sophie:"And yet... sometimes, when she thinks no one's looking... There's something else behind her eyes. Like she carries something heavy we can't see."
The servants fell silent. Because they'd noticed it too—the way Lady Lena would stop and stare at nothing sometimes. The way her laughter came bright—but never quite reached a certain depth. Like she was playing a role no one taught her how to quit.
Sophie:"...Maybe, she's not just acting grown-up."
She whispered
Sophie:"Maybe... she already had to be."
The staff exchanged incredulous looks. Even the servants closest to Lord Dunham had trouble believing the man would willingly allow his daughter to do chores around the house without a fuss. The butler cleared his throat.
"The lord... was okay with this? With Lady Lena... cleaning all on her own?"
The head-maid nodded wearily.
Sophie:"I did bring it up with him, But he claimed she's always been like this. That we should leave her be... and if she gets too carried away we can just stop her."
She held up the cookie like it was a sacred relic—crisp, golden-brown, with just a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. A hush fell over the servants.
Sophie:"...She baked these this morning," Sophie said, voice thick with emotion. "Before dawn. Said she wanted to 'thank' us for letting her help."
One maid reached out gingerly and took a bite. Her eyes widened.
"Oh... oh no, It's perfect."
Another sniffled.
"She didn't just clean... she cared."
The head footman wiped away a tear with his sleeve.
"We're not just serving a noble... we're serving an angel in disguise."
And somewhere in the background— Lena paused mid-sweep, blinked at them all gathered around Sophie like they were having some deep emotional moment over... snacks?
Lena:"Uh... Are you guys okay?"
They didn't answer.
They were too busy quietly sobbing into their aprons and arguing about who got the last cookie.
House Dunham had never been more chaotic—or more warm—since Lena came back from death itself and decided cleaning was fun now.
Some called it madness.
Others?
A miracle in broom form.
***
If someone had told the servants last week that they would ever get this excited about cleaning, they would've laughed in their face.But now—as they bustled around the manor, sweeping, dusting, wiping, humming songs and cheerfully comparing cleaning tips—there was a different air to the place.
Less fear of breaking a fragile vase.
Less whispers about who would have to polish the silver at midnight.
Instead, there was contentment. And it was all because of a stubborn little noblewoman who refused to sit around and look pretty.
Lord and Lady Dunham sat in the sunny morning parlor, sipping tea and nibbling on cookies like proud parents.
James:"I always knew Lena was different, Stubborn. Opinionated. Never afraid to speak her mind."
Amelia:"Our daughter can cook, clean, work... she's kind, clever, and beautiful on top of that. Any noble man in their right mind would be ecstatic to make her his wife."
James:"...I just hope our future son-in-law isn't some womanizer. If he is I'll throw him out of the house!".
His wife raised an eyebrow, swirling her tea with a slow, dangerous grace.
Amelia:"Oh?" And what makes you think you'll be the one throwing him out?"
She set her cup down—clink—a little too deliberately.
Amelia:"I'll have him banished before he even steps on our estate grounds. One suspicious glance at another woman? Gone."
He looked at his wife, suddenly realizing he wasn't the only force to be reckoned with.
James:"...You're scarier than I remember,"
He muttered. While Amelia smiled sweetly.
Amelia:"Motherhood sharpens the claws."
***
IN THE LIBRARY
Lena sniffed, tucking the handkerchief back into her sleeve with a sigh.
Lena:"Bless me, Someone's definitely talking about me again..."
She glanced around the quiet library—sunlight streaming through tall windows, dust motes dancing in the air. Lena immersed herself in the leather-bound world of Beltran Kingdom, devouring each chapter with a historian's zeal.
The rise and fall of dynasties.
The tales of heroes and villains.
The political intrigues, wars, and alliances that shaped a generation.
For Lena, history was more than just dates and names—it was a labyrinth of cause-and-effect, a puzzle to piece together.
Outside the quiet library, though, her parents sipped tea... plotting to add "no multiple husbands" to the "future son-in-law qualifications" list.