(67) The Black Agriche.

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"........,"

୨⎯ " Sαnɒяα'ʂ ΡσƲ " ⎯୧

"........,"

I stood among the rest of the maids and servants, each of us lined up with our heads bowed in respect as the Grand Duke made his way out of the Manor, ready to depart.

The air was filled with a quiet reverence, a shared pride in the way we had dressed him.

The maids had outdone themselves with his outfit today, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of delight as I watched him walk away.

Our work had truly paid off; he looked every bit the part of the noble he was.

His presence was imposing, even from a distance, and I took in the way the sunlight caught on his carefully chosen attire.

It was always a source of satisfaction to know we played a part in maintaining the Grand Duke's impeccable appearance.

Especially when our work received such visible approval.

As I stood there, lost in these thoughts, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

Turning, I saw Hans leaning in close, his face unusually serious, though his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"I noticed something interesting yesterday,"

"........,"

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"........,"

He said, cupping his hand around his mouth as if sharing a secret.

"When His Grace was changing, I saw some new scratches on his back. Not his usual scars-but fresh ones. And there were bite marks on his shoulders, too. Do you think he fought a wolf? A bear, maybe?"

I stiffened, my smile faltering slightly as I struggled to keep my composure.

Sweat began to bead on my forehead despite the cool air.

Hans's obliviousness to the gravity of what he was saying was almost comical, but it wasn't the time for laughter.

"How many people have you told this to?"

I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Just you," Hans replied innocently. "Why?"

A wave of relief washed over me, though I had to suppress the urge to wipe my brow.

"Just-just don't mention it to anyone else, alright? Promise me."

Hans nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course. Pinky promise!"

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