Chapter 69 : You don’t know how to slack off!

The ornate carriage halted before the carved iron gates, its wheels crunching softly on the gravel path. Though Ailiya had seen many grand noble estates, the Winter family’s mansion never failed to stun her. This wasn’t a home—it was a miniature city. A cluster of white villas, each unique yet harmonious, sprawled before her, each with meticulously sculpted gardens and fountains spraying crystal droplets that caught the sunlight, forming tiny rainbows.

Following Clara, Ailiya’s steps echoed on polished marble, feeling like a mouse in a giant’s realm. Her gaze drifted past lifelike angel statues to the towering dome above, adorned with a vibrant mural of a mythic war, so grand it nearly snapped her neck. Obscenely rich…

“Miss Ailiya,” Clara’s voice pulled her back, “I’ll take you to Lady Liliane’s chambers.”

They traversed a long corridor lined with priceless portraits, each figure boasting the Winter family’s signature silver hair. They passed an indoor garden, exotic blooms framing a delicate jade bridge over a babbling stream—almost too beautiful to be real.

They stopped at a white door etched with roses. Clara knocked gently.

“…Come in,” a weak voice called.

Clara opened the door but didn’t enter, smiling at Ailiya. “I’ll leave it to you to explain.”

“No problem.” Ailiya took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The room stole her breath. A massive floor-to-ceiling window dominated one wall, gauzy curtains swaying lightly. A plush bed sat by the window, next to an elegant desk. Liliane reclined against the headboard, a soft quilt over her legs. Sunlight bathed her, highlighting her pallor, softening her usual sharpness. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, glowing ethereally, breathtakingly fragile—like divine porcelain.

Noticing Ailiya, Liliane’s violet eyes widened slightly. “Ailiya?”

Snapping out of her daze, Ailiya approached, explaining awkwardly, “Uh… Clara had work, so she asked me to keep you company.”

Liliane blinked, then smirked playfully. “I know you excel in… certain areas, but caregiving? Forgive my bluntness, Ailiya, but I doubt you have the patience or finesse for it.”

That sharp tongue! Ailiya huffed, cheeks puffing. That fragile beauty was an illusion. Her mouth’s cursed to ruin it the second she speaks. Squinting, she retorted, “You’re lively enough to tease. Almost healed, huh?”

“Isn’t that good?” Liliane replied.

Ailiya opened her mouth, then paused, her big eyes blinking. …She’s got a point. Grumbling, she muttered, “I’m not arguing with a sick person.”

Liliane smiled, saying nothing, and a brief silence settled. Ailiya broke it, hesitant. “Your illness… what’s really going on?”

She’d heard the royal physicians called it a fever, but could a simple fever keep the indomitable Liliane bedridden for days?

“The doctors said it’s just a fever,” Liliane confirmed. “Likely disrupted my magic circuits, causing the relapses. But this morning, my temperature stabilized. A few more days, and I’ll return to the academy.”

She frowned, thoughtful. “Maybe I have been too busy. Should I schedule more rest days?”

Ailiya’s mind flashed to Liliane’s “rest day” in the dungeon. “Your idea of rest is useless!” she blurted.

Liliane glanced at her, a hint of disdain in her eyes. “How rude, Ailiya. Training and study are fulfilling. Calling them rest is perfectly valid.”

That’s exactly why your rest is bizarre! Ailiya screamed internally. Taking a deep breath, she planted her hands on her hips, declaring, “From today, I—Ailiya Winster, St. Freya’s top slacker maid—am taking over! I’ll show you real rest, the kind that turns you into a useless lump!”

This idiot and her nonsense. Liliane sighed, her eyes softening with amusement. Folding her hands, she resumed her elegant demeanor, nodding. “Very well, Ailiya. I leave today in your hands.”