New Way of Life

Aima helped Bree put on loose-fitting trousers after removing her corset. The freedom Bree had been anticipating allowed her to breathe more freely.

"I think this is not a good idea," Aima muttered hesitantly while tying the fabric pants. She then assisted Bree in putting on a lighter dress.

"I don't need your opinion. I know this is not a good idea," Bree half-snapped at Aima while donning a long coat to cover her figure.

Not wearing a corset made her feel free, but at the same time exposed and vulnerable. She had never worn outer dresses without a corset since she was ten.

"But people will look at you strangely, and..."

"So what if people find me strange? Will anyone dare to stop me? If they do, let them try!" Bree retorted.

"But Lady Irene..."

"You've seen these past few days that I don't care about her opinion, haven't you? I don't care!"

Bree emphasised making sure Aima remembered this. Since the confrontation during breakfast a few days ago, Irene has been trying to subtly criticise everything Bree did, although she didn't dare be open about it.

The secret about Blanche made her too afraid to confront Bree, but Irene couldn't just stay silent, seeing Bree clearly daring to challenge her. In the end, there were only bitter taunts that Bree completely ignored. Bree wouldn't care about the voices of the insects she had stepped on. One more stomp, and Irene would lose. Irene was not a threat to her at the moment.

Bree chose to focus on other matters that needed fixing—the murder of her father.

According to Bree's previous memories, there were still about four months before the murder happened, and currently, there is nothing she can do to fix it. Because Bree didn't know the origin and reason for that event. Bree just hoped she could save her father in time.

To achieve that, Bree would do some things she believed would help facilitate that plan.

First, she had to learn horseback riding. It might sound trivial, but this skill was crucial because it could make it easier for her to move around. Bree remembered feeling helpless when she had to run and couldn't do it. She could only run so far on her legs, making it easy for others to find her.

Bree didn't expect she would need to run again, but that was the worst-case scenario. And Bree would strive for change, even on the smallest scale. Those small changes might save her life later.

Bree jumped in place once, ensuring her clothes were comfortable. Everything is ready for her new plan.

"You have a hobby of painting," Aima suddenly remarked, and Bree turned to look at her.

She apparently opened a large box among the items Bree brought from Le Mans. A box that had been ignored for several days.

Neatly arranged in the box, which was found in a leather bag, were rolls of leather canvas and tools for making dyes. Tools to crush fruits and leaves and filter their results into ink. Next to these tools, there were other leather rolls containing brushes made from various sizes of horsetail hair. Bree had arranged everything here, and it remained unchanged. Never touched by her.

"Yes, but I don't want to do it anymore. Close it!"

Bree sounded curt again. Bree wanted to avoid a reminder of something that currently makes her feel vulnerable. Bree and painting were inseparable in the past. Bree could spend a day or two, sometimes forgetting to eat, when finishing a painting, searching for fruits and leaves with unique and suitable colours for her artwork.

Before, that habit hadn't changed. Bree always avoided trouble by painting when she felt heartbroken and desperate due to the treatment of the residents of this house.

Now, of course, it had to be different. Bree wouldn't fill her time with such 'useless' activities. She intentionally forgot and suppressed her desire to paint and do something more useful.

"Come on!"

Bree shook her head, dismissing her longing to touch everything in that box. That was one of the few sacrifices she had to make in order to survive.

***

"Won't you get into trouble with Duke Valios?" Aima still tried to warn as Bree crossed the side yard of the castle, heading towards the stable near the boundary wall.

"Aima!"

Bree turned around, snapping at Aima, who almost collided with her because she stopped abruptly.

"Are you going to keep protesting? If so, you don't need to accompany me anymore! I'll find another servant, and you can go back to serving Irene!"

Bree actually wanted to replace Aima more inconspicuously, but irritation got the best of her due to all the objections. Bree stared at Aima sharply, while the girl looked back at her in panic, blinking quickly.

"But I never served Lady Irene. I only started working in this castle because Duke Valois asked me to serve you. Before this, I worked in the fisherman's port."

Bree frowned while observing Aima. She didn't seem to be lying; Aima didn't understand what Bree was talking about.

"But why are you close to Irene and reporting all the activities..."

Before finishing her sentence, Bree's lips pressed together. She understood.

Aima didn't become her servant because Irene ordered her to be a spy. Aima became a spy because Irene asked her after Aima had served her. This was a power struggle.

In the previous timeline, Irene managed to 'control' Aima because Aima followed the orders of the winner, the ruler of the castle. This meant the way out was easy. Bree just had to make sure Aima understood that she was the winner here, in control of Irene's fate, not the other way around. That way, Aima wouldn't shift her loyalty.

Aima was the type of servant who was loyal to the stronger one. For this timeline, she had already 'attached' herself to the employer, who was clearly stronger.

"Forget my words earlier. I will continue practicing horseback riding. You don't need to worry about Irene and what she says. I'm the one who holds the title of Duchess now, not her."

Bree said firmly, while Aima bowed deeply.

"I understand, Duchess."

"Good if you understand now."

Bree turned, continuing her steps towards the stable. It was already midday, although the sun wasn't visible due to the cloudy weather. Bree didn't want to waste any more time.

However, her steps stopped again, and this time Aima really bumped into Bree's back.

"What's wrong, Duchess? Oh..." Aima didn't need an explanation; she could also see what had caught Bree's attention.

Bree looked at the horse-drawn carriage waiting silently on the stone-paved road at the back of the castle. The road ended at the back gate of the castle. A gate that was usually only used for entrances other than guests. The gate would be opened if there were deliveries of food, firewood, or perhaps when a servant entered. 

Something passing through that gate could be considered unusual, but what Bree was witnessing now made it seem normal in the Marseilles castle, as no one else cared about it except for Bree.

Bree hoped not to care after realising what she was really seeing, but it was too late. Bree had already seen the woman, who had just spent the night with Rad.