Lily hesitates for a brief moment before a soft, genuine smile breaks across her exhausted face.
"Alright, my Lady, I will follow your order," Lily says softly. "But at least let me finish feeding you this porridge. Once the bowl is empty, I promise I will go straight to my quarters. Are you satisfied with that compromise?"
I offer her a gentle, relenting nod. "Yes, obviously I am satisfied. But you have to promise me that you will actually sleep and rest. Don't worry about anything else—you don't need to stress over chores or duties while you're off. Everyone else can handle the estate work. You are my personal maid, which means you answer to me, and right now, my explicit order is for you to take care of yourself."
"Obviously, my Lady," Lily murmurs, her eyes crinkling with amusement and a profound sense of relief.
As she finishes feeding me, we exchange a few light, easy words. Sitting here in Lily's comforting presence, I feel a rare surge of happiness straight from the bottom of my heart.
A little while later, the bowl of porridge is completely empty. Lily sets it aside on the bedside table and dips her head respectfully.
"Well, my Lady, you have finished your meal," Lily says gently, taking a step back. "So, I am taking my leave now, exactly as promised. You should get some more rest, too."
I point a playful, mock-threatening finger at her from beneath the blankets. "And you better actually go rest, just as I ordered! Do you know what happens if you disobey a direct command from your mistress? Otherwise, I'll have to think of some very creative punishments for you."
Lily lets out a soft, melodic laugh, bowing her head one last time. "Yes, my Lady. I will obey."
With that, she turns and quietly slips out of the room, leaving the heavy double doors closed behind her.
I sink back down into the plush mattress, pulling the thick, embroidered blankets up over my shoulders. Staring up at the ceilings and the intricate carvings on the rooftop, my mind begins to wander, drifting back over everything that has happened since I arrived in this body.
I think about how cold, hostile, and threatening the Valerius family felt when I first stepped foot into this estate and look at them now. The difference in their behavior is staggering.
Suddenly, a memory flashes in my mind: the mysterious, ethereal voice that lured me here, whispering promises that I would be welcomed warmly. At the time, I completely brushed it off as some hallucination or a cruel trick. But experiencing their recent shifts in attitude like the Duke's paternal concern, Orlando's teasing care, and even this peaceful room proves that the voice was telling the absolute truth.
How could she possibly know? I muse inwardly, my analytical mind spinning. Even I had no idea they could be capable of such warmth. How could a voice predict this exact outcome?
A strange thought tickles the back of my mind. Could she possess some kind of divine power? Is she a deity or something?
I immediately mentally shake my head at the absurdity of it. No, no, that's impossible. If she was truly a god, how could she be so humble and down-to-earth when she spoke to me?
And if she really is a god, my thoughts continue to spiral, how could she just hand her powers over to me like that?
I didn't have to beg or shout or offer a grand sacrifice. She just lent them. If she was really a deity, how could she do something so foolish without even thinking twice? She just accepted my proposal and handed over her abilities just like that. How is that even possible? I almost find it hard to believe.
Wait, wait, wait.
My eyes snap wide open in the quiet room as the realization hits me. Powers.
How could I completely forget a thing like that! She lent me some powers, and I still haven't checked them yet. How could I be so foolish? How could I possibly forget something so critically important in the middle of all this chaos?
I should check these powers right now.
I push myself up against the headboard, sitting upright in the bed, my mind racing. How am I supposed to check these powers?
In all those noble romance and reincarnation stories I used to read back on my world, the heroine, the villainess, or whoever gets transported to another world always sees a glowing system floating right in front of them, or they have to summon a status window with stats and everything. But how am I supposed to trigger something so crazy? I don't even know the proper commands or how this interface works.
Let me think, I tell myself, pressing my fingers to my temples.
What should the first thing be? How to invoke the system is one question, but what do I actually want to know right now?
A sudden, sharp curiosity pierces through my thoughts. I want to see what is happening back in my original world. I want to see my old body, the hospital room where I left off.
"Show me," I whisper aloud in the empty room, commanding the thought with absolute intent. "Show me my original world, the hospital bed where my body is lying."
Instantly, the air in front of me ripples, and a crisp, high-definition screen, resembling a floating television display, materializes right out of thin air. It looks precisely like a live CCTV monitor. On the screen, I see the sterile white walls of the ICU, the rhythmic blip of a heart monitor, and there, lying motionless beneath the crisp white sheets, is my original body, hooked up to a dozen tubes and wires.
In the bottom corner of the floating screen, a digital timestamp glows quietly, confirming that time is still moving, even though I am thousands of miles or dimensions away.
My eyes lock onto the glowing digital timestamp in the corner of the floating screen: 11:14 PM.
A deep frown lines my forehead as my mind races to calculate the math. I remember closing my eyes back in the hospital ward right around 10:30 PM. That means it's not even an hour in my original world.
Yet, in this strange, sprawling fantasy estate, it feels like it's been a while. Between waking up in Eleanor's body, navigating with the Duke, surviving Orlando's teasing, dealing with Mr. Lucius, and being aggressively betrayed by my own starving stomach, easily three or four maybe more hours must have ticked away here.
I bite my lower lip, casting a glance around the dimly lit, antique-furnished bedroom. Without a smartphone, a digital clock, or even a ticking wristwatch to rely on, I have no way of knowing the precise local time of this world. But the vast discrepancy between the two realms is undeniable and the time moves differently here.
If an hour back home translates to several hours here, I muse, staring intently at the glowing hospital feed on the screen, then I have a massive advantage. But I need to figure out what else these powers can do before my mind gets too overwhelmed.