After my meeting with Haisley, I wasted no time in assigning her as my head housekeeper.
In the hushed corridors of my manor, her appointment felt like a deliberate turning of a page—one where I could no longer rely solely on Abelard. He, after all, was already burdened by his duties as my butler and leader of the information guild. The lingering scent of polished wood and ancient parchment in my study reminded me that each role, however menial, had its purpose.
Haisley would begin her service tomorrow and reside in the manor as she worked side by side with me.
Yet even in the half-light of expectation, I noted an unmistakable tension between her and Abelard. Every time their eyes met, I could sense her judgment in the steely glimmer of her gaze and his measured reply—each too conscious of the social divide, with Abelard ever careful not to utter a single discourteous word.
