Chapter 127: The Heart Beneath the Mask

Chapter 127

The grand hall had not been this crowded since Sigrid’s arrival at the northern fortress. Men and women from the surrounding villages stood in orderly rows beneath the towering stone pillars, their modest garments bearing the marks of hard labour and harsher winters. A few children had accompanied their parents, their curious eyes wandering across the hall’s lavish furnishings. Some appeared hopeful, others anxious, and several seemed prepared to turn on their heels should the duchess reject them.

Sigrid sat upon the raised seat at the head of the hall, her expression composed as she examined the applicants before her. Maude approached with a thick bundle of reports held against her chest and bowed respectfully. "Your Grace, these are all the residents who expressed a desire to enter your service. I have gathered what information could be obtained concerning their former employments, reputations, and conduct. However, I beg leave to ask whether Your Grace truly intends to examine every applicant in person. There are considerably more than I had anticipated."

"Pray, do not trouble yourself over their number, Maude. These people have come seeking honest employment, and I shall grant them the courtesy of being heard." Sigrid gestured for her to place the reports upon the table. "Let us begin. I would sooner devote an additional hour to choosing my servants than spend the coming months lamenting a hasty decision."

Maude bowed and distributed the applicants’ names among the reports. Leo settled at a smaller table nearby, quill in hand, ready to record each successful candidate. Sigrid began with the simpler positions, calling the applicants forward one by one. She questioned the cooks concerning their experience in noble households, asked the stable hands how they would tend to horses through the bitter northern winters, and examined the references of those seeking positions as guards, attendants, and cleaners. Whenever an applicant approached, she consulted Maude’s findings before reaching her verdict.

Those with suitable experience and honest references were accepted. Others were dismissed with a courteous explanation, while a handful were instructed to return once they had acquired the necessary skills. Sigrid required neither an illustrious pedigree nor years of service from every applicant. She sought people who were dependable, willing to learn, and capable of fulfilling their duties without allowing personal grievances to disturb the household.

Leo’s quill scratched steadily across the parchment as the list of accepted applicants grew. By the time the final groups had been examined, nearly every position had been filled. Only a few remained, among them the most important household appointment of all, the head maid who would eventually assume help soften Lilith’s duties.

Lilith had served Sigrid faithfully, but the duchess’s affairs had grown increasingly complicated. Between political correspondence, preparations for court, and the delicate business of managing her enemies, Lilith could scarcely be expected to oversee every corner of the fortress as well. Sigrid required someone capable of maintaining order among the servants without needing constant supervision.

Her crimson eyes moved towards the remaining applicants. Two young women stepped forward.

The first carried herself with a composed demeanour, her hands folded neatly before her. Her features were mild, and she offered Sigrid a respectful curtsy. The second stood beside her with her chin slightly raised, her expression bordering on haughtiness. She was not openly insolent, but there was a boldness in her gaze that suggested she would sooner defend her convictions than lower her head without question.

Sigrid studied the pair in silence. She had already begun to favour the more mild one deciding based on only first impressions alone. There was something about the young woman’s manner that caught her attention. Brashness alone was hardly a virtue, but neither was meekness proof of competence. Before reaching a decision, Sigrid resolved to test them both.

"Tell me, ladies, in your estimation, what quality ought a head maid to possess above all others?"

The mild-looking woman answered first. "Diligence, Your Grace, and the discernment to know when a servant must be corrected. A household cannot prosper if its servants neglect their duties, nor can order be maintained if its mistress permits disorder to take root."

Sigrid inclined her head slightly before turning towards the other applicant.

"Loyalty," the second woman replied without hesitation. "A servant may be taught her duties, Your Grace, but no amount of instruction can make a faithless heart trustworthy."

For the first time that morning, Sigrid’s expression changed. Her crimson eyes widened a fraction as she considered the answer. It was a simple response, perhaps too simple for someone seeking such a position, yet it struck a chord within her. Diligence could be taught, and discipline could be enforced, but loyalty was far more difficult to secure. A capable servant who secretly served another master could bring greater ruin upon a household than a dozen incompetent ones.

Before Sigrid could question the young woman further, the first applicant turned towards her with a sharp frown.

"Nyla, have I not cautioned you against such pride? You stand before the Duchess of the North. Pray, remember your station and conduct yourself accordingly."

The second woman’s bold expression faltered. She fiddled with the hem of her clothes and lowered her head, shame colouring her cheeks.

"And you know full well that this position shall not be yours," the older girl continued. "Why, then, have you insisted upon presenting yourself here?"

Sigrid’s brows drew together. The girl had not fully acknowledged her presence before beginning to reprimand the other girl, as though Sigrid were no more than a spectator to a private quarrel.

The young woman turned back towards Sigrid with an apologetic smile. "I beg Your Grace’s pardon for my sister’s behaviour. This is Nyla, my younger sister. I cannot fathom why she troubled herself to come. She has ever been of little use, and I fear she would prove no more useful to your household."

Nyla’s face fell. "I merely wished for the opportunity to try, Felicia," she murmured.

"Then you ought to have known better than to waste Her Grace’s precious time. Pay her no heed, Your Grace. I assure you that I am far better suited to the position."

Nyla pressed her lips together, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. After a moment, she raised her head and looked directly at her sister. "You cannot possibly know that."

The older girl stepped towards her, prompting Nyla to retreat instinctively. Unfortunately, she bumped into another applicant standing behind her.

"I beg your pardon," Nyla said quickly, turning around.

"Have you no eyes in your head?" the woman snapped, glaring down at her. "Take greater care of where you walk!"

Nyla’s expression hardened. The timid girl who had lowered her head moments earlier suddenly looked ready to defend herself, but before she could speak, her sister seized the opportunity to scold her again.

"Have you no shame, Nyla? To behave so disgracefully before Her Grace herself! Must you bring embarrassment upon our family at every turn?"

"It was an accident, Felicia. You know very well that I meant no offence."

Felicia scoffed. "You disappoint me more with each passing day."

Maude, who had been standing beside the dais, finally stepped forward. Her stern gaze swept over the sisters. "That is quite enough. You will conduct yourselves with proper decorum in the presence of Her Grace. This is an audience for employment, not a gathering for airing private grievances."

Both women straightened immediately. Felicia curtsied and turned towards Sigrid, wearing an expression of carefully manufactured humility.

"I offer my sincerest apologies for my sister’s conduct, Your Grace. I trust it has become apparent that she is ill-suited to such a responsibility. Should it please Your Grace, I would be honoured to undertake the office myself."

Sigrid stared at her for a moment, genuinely at a loss. The girl had spent the entire interview belittling her own sister, yet she appeared utterly convinced that she deserved to oversee an entire household. Had Felicia not considered how she might treat the servants placed beneath her authority? A head maid who humiliated others merely to elevate herself would bring nothing but misery to the fortress.

Sigrid turned her attention to Nyla, who stood with her head bowed.

"You shall be appointed the next head maid of this fortress, once Lilith has finished preparing you for the responsibility."

Silence fell over the hall.

Nyla’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. Felicia, meanwhile, stared at Sigrid as though the duchess had just declared the world upside down.

"On what grounds?" Felicia demanded, anger breaking through her carefully maintained expression.

Sigrid tilted her head. "Must I furnish you with grounds for every decision I make within my own household?"

"Your Grace, surely you cannot be in earnest!"

"And what, precisely, leads you to believe otherwise?" Sigrid countered.

Nyla hesitated before speaking, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "Y-Your Grace... why should you entrust such a position to me?"

Sigrid regarded her with a gentler expression. The question was not unreasonable. Nyla had displayed little confidence, and she had allowed her sister to speak over her repeatedly. Yet beneath that timid demeanour, she had shown enough courage to challenge Felicia when pushed too far. More importantly, Sigrid recognised something painfully familiar in the way Felicia treated her younger sister.

Maria had done the same to her in her previous life. Though Sigrid had been the rightful heiress in her own household, Maria had perfected the art of appearing innocent while making Sigrid seem cruel, selfish, and unworthy of affection. She had belittled Sigrid behind closed doors, then presented herself as the injured party before others. In time, those around them had begun to believe the performance. Sigrid had once mistaken such behaviour for the ordinary quarrels of sisters especially since Maria was a great actress and would pretend to favour her. She would never make that mistake again.

"Because I have no need of a head maid who mistakes authority for permission to trample upon those beneath her," Sigrid answered. "A household is not strengthened by fear alone, nor is loyalty won through humiliation. Nyla has shown me more promise in the few words she has spoken than you have shown throughout this entire interview."

She then looked directly at Felicia, her voice cooling. "I have no place in my fortress for one whose chief talent is to demean others without cause. Your application is rejected. You may take your leave."

Felicia’s face twisted with fury, but Sigrid had already turned away from her.

"Nyla, you will speak with Lilith before you depart. She shall acquaint you with your prospective duties and determine what training you require. Return in three days’ time to begin your service. Your wages shall be settled once the terms of your appointment have been properly arranged."

Nyla stared at her, hardly daring to believe what she had heard. Her eyes filled with tears, but this time they were born of relief rather than humiliation. She bowed so deeply that her hair slipped over her shoulders. "You have shown me a kindness I don’t know how to repay, Your Grace. I shall work diligently and prove myself worthy of your trust."

"See that you do."

"How could you do this to me?" Felicia suddenly cried.

Sigrid turned back just as Felicia seized Nyla’s arm. "You knew how dearly I desired this position! How could you allow her to take what ought to have been mine?"

"I have taken nothing from you," Nyla protested, attempting to free herself.

"You always do this! You are nothing, Nyla. Nothing! All your life, you have contrived to rob me of what is rightfully mine, and now you have stolen the one opportunity I deserved!"

Felicia released her sister and rounded on Sigrid, her expression contorting with resentment. "And you! You foolish woman. You have no notion of what you have done!"

Before she could advance another step, Chester seized her from behind and forced her to the floor. The surrounding applicants recoiled, startled by the sudden commotion.

"Unhand me!" Felicia screamed, struggling against the guard’s hold. "I was to be the head maid! The position was meant for me!"

Sigrid frowned. Such desperation over a household appointment was strange enough, but Felicia’s words carried an intensity that went beyond wounded pride. Why was she so obsessed with a position she had not yet earned?

Her crimson eyes suddenly brightened and her gift had awakened without warning.

A searing pain tore through Sigrid’s head as the grand hall vanished before her eyes. In its place appeared a modest room, where Felicia stood before a mirror, studying her reflection with an expression of naked ambition. Nyla stood nearby, her hands clasped nervously.

"Once I am appointed head maid, I shall find a way to draw the Duke’s attention," Felicia declared, smoothing her hair. "With his favour secured, ridding myself of that disgraced southern duchess shall be a simple matter. In time, I shall take her place."

Nyla looked at her sister uncertainly. "But why would you wish to do such a thing, Felicia?"

"Why, you ask?" Felicia laughed. "That woman is wholly undeserving of him. She has been embroiled in one scandal after another and is scarcely fit to stand beside a man of his station. Besides, she is a southerner. What makes you believe she holds any respect for the North? She likely regards him as a monster, just as the rest of them do."

Felicia leaned closer to the mirror, her smile sharpening.

"And we both know she married him for his wealth. Once I become head maid, I shall see to her removal. His Grace deserves a woman who understands him, and I intend to be that woman."

The vision shattered.

Sigrid’s fingers tightened against the armrest as the pain surged through her skull, forcing her to wince. For a moment, she could scarcely hear the commotion around her. Then the agony receded as abruptly as it had come, leaving her breathless and cold.

She looked down at Felicia, who was still struggling beneath Chester’s grip. The mild countenance she had worn moments ago seemed almost laughable now. Beneath it lay a heart consumed by entitlement, ambition, and a willingness to betray the very household she had sought to enter.

"Chester," Sigrid said, her voice quiet enough to make the nearest applicants fall silent. "Take this woman to the dungeons."

Felicia stopped struggling. "Your Grace, you cannot do this!"

"Cannot I?" Sigrid rose from her seat, her crimson gaze fixed upon the woman. "You intended to betray your own duchess and scheme against the Duke’s marriage. Had His Grace been present to hear your ambitions, I suspect your fate would have been considerably less merciful."

Felicia’s face drained of colour.

Sigrid approached her and bent just enough to ensure that only Felicia could hear her next words. "And to think you imagined you had the slightest chance of winning my husband’s affections. He is mine, and mine alone."

Felicia’s eyes widened with disbelief. "This is unjust!"

"Then perhaps you ought to have considered justice before deciding that everyone else’s place in this world existed merely to make room for you."

Sigrid straightened. "Perhaps I ought to inform the Duke of your intentions. I imagine he would be most interested to learn that a prospective servant was already plotting to undermine his household."

"No." Felicia’s voice faltered. "No, Your Grace. I beg you, do not tell him." The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Whatever resentment she harboured towards Sigrid, she understood that Duke Soren was not a man to be trifled with.

Sigrid allowed a faint, cold smile to touch her lips and quietly whispered in her ears "do not speak." She lifted one hand and gestured for Chester to proceed.

Felicia opened her mouth to protest again, but no sound emerged. Her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes widening in alarm as she discovered that she could not utter another word. Chester hauled her upright and dragged her towards the doors while she kicked and struggled in vain.

The hall remained silent until the heavy doors closed behind them.

Sigrid turned towards Nyla, whose face had gone pale. The young woman stared at her with a mixture of fear and disbelief, her hands trembling at her sides. "I beg Your Grace’s forgiveness," Nyla whispered. "I ought to have spoken sooner. I knew my sister’s intentions, yet I lacked the courage to oppose her."

Sigrid sighed. She could hardly fault the girl for being frightened of someone who had spent years making her feel worthless. "You need not concern yourself on that account. Return home for the present, and come back in three days as instructed. You shall have the opportunity to prove yourself without your sister standing over your shoulder."

Nyla’s eyes widened, and a cautious smile finally broke across her face. "As Your Grace commands! I shall not disappoint you."

Once the remaining applicants had departed and the hall had emptied, Sigrid returned to her carriage. The journey back to the fortress passed in silence, but her thoughts remained fixed upon Felicia’s confession.

So that is what they think of me, she mused, gazing through the carriage window at the vast northern landscape. Because I was born in the South, they assume I look down upon the North. Because I married Soren, they believe I seek nothing more than his wealth. Is that truly how the people here regard me?

The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She had expected suspicion from those who knew little of her, but she had not considered how easily her origins might become a weapon against her. If Felicia’s assumptions were shared by others, then earning the trust of the North would require more than issuing commands and paying wages.

Upon reaching the fortress, Sigrid retired to her chambers and approached the vanity table. Beneath a stack of personal missives lay a folded parchment she had kept hidden from prying eyes. She opened it carefully, revealing a list of thirty names.

Maria. Ragnar. The people who had helped condemn her, the ones who had thrilled from her devotion, and those who had stood silently by while she was destroyed despite her helping them.

Two names had already been crossed out.

Twenty-eight remained.

Sigrid stared at the parchment, her expression clouded by a feeling she could not readily name. The reason for her return to the past had always seemed simple. She had sworn vengeance upon Maria and Ragnar, and upon every person who had betrayed her after she had spent her life strengthening their positions. Yet, as she looked at the list, she wondered whether she had made a mistake by reducing her second life to a collection of names.

"Your Grace?" Lilith asked from the doorway. "Has something troubled you? You have been regarding that parchment for some time, and you seem much burdened by your thoughts."

Sigrid did not answer immediately. Instead, she lowered the parchment onto the vanity and tore it in half.

Lilith’s eyes widened. "Milady, was that document not of great importance?"

"It was," Sigrid replied, rising from her seat. "But it has outlived its purpose."

She tore the parchment again, reducing the names to several useless pieces before letting them fall into the wastebasket. For a moment, she studied the fragments with a strange sense of relief.

How foolish of me, she thought. Why did I believe I needed to keep a written record of those I intended to punish? Was I afraid I might forget them? Was I so consumed by the past that I needed to remind myself of the very people who had ruined me?

A faint smirk touched her lips.

No. I need no parchment to remember what they have done. Their actions shall reveal themselves in time, and when they do, I shall decide how best to answer them.

"Do not concern yourself, Lilith," Sigrid said, turning towards her head maid. "I was merely occupied with a thought."

Lilith hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but bowed her head. "As Your Grace wishes."

Sigrid moved towards the window, where the last of the northern sunlight spilled across the stone floor. Her revenge had not changed. Maria and Ragnar would still answer for their crimes, as would every person who had betrayed her. She had not returned to this world to forgive them, nor would she abandon the promise she had made at the moment of her death.

But there was no pleasure in knowing every step before it was taken.

If she already knew whom she would punish, when she would punish them, and precisely how her revenge would unfold, then what remained to surprise her?

Sigrid’s smile deepened as she watched the fading sunlight disappear behind the mountains.

Her enemies believed themselves clever. Let them scheme, whisper, and plot beneath the illusion that she was merely a duchess preoccupied with rebuilding her household. She would not waste another breath recording their names.

After all, what enjoyment could there be in revenge if she knew exactly what was coming?