Why The Maid Inherited The Duke's Legacy- Chapter 9
<9> Like a Moth to Flame
"In my 47 years working here, I've never needed to be told what to do! At this point, there's not a single concern about the gardens left unattended! So let me and the child pass."
Hartland's mocking tone made Arad frown as he glared at the old man. Though Hartland had never seen a young man wield such an intimidating gaze before, he was the type who'd sooner break than bend. He met Arad's contemptuous stare with equal defiance.
‘Kill me if you dare.’
Having buried his wife with his own hands, he had no attachments left to life. His conviction was ironclad: 'A man who won’t take responsibility for the woman carrying his child is nothing but worthless trash.' Poverty, birth, sudden misfortune—none of these were shameful. The only true disgrace was failing to own up to one’s duties. He wasn’t defending Ivnia out of kindness, nor was he angry on her behalf. He was simply furious that the new master he served was such a despicable man.
‘Damn it all. To think this is who inherited Gellenzik.’
This estate was where he’d poured his life’s work, where he’d planned to live until death. He’d married here, raised children here, buried his wife here. He’d lived at Gellenzik far longer than this young lord. And he took immense pride in serving this household. Now that pride teetered on the brink of collapse—because of this pathetic brat. Unable to contain himself, Hartland sneered.
"If you show more interest in Ivnia and this child, people won’t leave her alone."
Arad crossed his arms, indifferent.
"Then let them complain to me."
How easy it was for him to say. Hartland scoffed. At first, he thought Arad was joking—but the man’s eyes held no humor. This spoiled young master clearly had no idea how a scandal-ridden maid was treated in this household.
‘Raised in luxury, what would he know of petty cruelty?’
Hartland delivered a cold warning.
"If you won’t take responsibility, don’t make things worse. We servants handle our own affairs. Stop meddling out of idle curiosity."
Just then, Hampton the butler happened to pass by and overhear. He froze, mouth agape.
‘Has the old man lost his mind?’
This was the same Hartland who normally avoided the Gellenzik family and their guests like the plague. Why was he suddenly picking a fight with the new master?
‘Senility. It must be senility.’
Arad seemed to share the thought. Spotting the butler, he jerked his chin.
"The old man’s clearly unwell. Take him to his quarters to rest, Hampton."
"Yes, my lord."
The butler knew this was an unusually lenient order. Arad was showing rare patience toward Hartland, likely due to his long service. Before the master changed his mind, Hampton quickly grabbed Hartland’s arm—but the old man shook him off and reached for Ranelli instead.
"Let go of me!"
"What’s gotten into you, Hartland? Calm down and step outside!"
"I’ll go! But I’m taking the child!"
Then, to his horror, Arad scooped Ranelli into his arms.
"G-Grandpa…!"
At the girl’s startled cry, Hartland’s eyes bulged.
"What are you doing with her? Give her back!"
Arad scowled, irritated.
"Anyone would think she’s your granddaughter. You have work to do—I’ll look after her. You’re not her nursemaid, are you?"
Panicked, Hartland lost all restraint.
"You’re not her father either!"
"Her father?"
A slow, knowing smile curled Arad’s lips.
"Who’s to say?"
Hartland’s stomach dropped. He stared, momentarily paralyzed, trying to decipher that smirk. His face paled.
"W-What do you mean?"
Arad shrugged. "I’ll take the child to Ivnia myself. No need to worry." With that, he strode past Hartland and vanished with Ranelli. Though strong for his age, Hartland was no match for the young butler’s full strength.
---
Ivnia moved like an automaton, scrubbing laundry until her pruned fingers lost all sensation. A doll, empty of feeling, existing only to fulfill its purpose. Her expression was blank—because she had to empty her mind. If she let herself feel, she’d lose control.
She worked in a daze, unaware of time passing—until suddenly jolting awake with a gasp.
"Ranelli!"
The sun had shifted. Horror seized her. She’d left Ranelli alone for too long.
‘She must be starving.’
The laundry pile remained mountainous, but she couldn’t wait. As she wiped her hands on her apron, the trainee who’d earlier tried dumping extra work on her spoke up snidely.
"Where are you going?"
"Just to check on my daughter—"
"Didn’t you hear Lady Olivia? If you leave before finishing, you’ll be in real trouble."
The girl’s eyes held more guilt than malice. She’d only followed the usual hazing for new maids—but hearing Ivnia beg Olivia had clearly pricked her conscience. Ivnia had no time for her remorse.
"Please, if Lady Olivia comes—just tell her I’ll return right after checking on my child."
"Wait! Hey!"
Ivnia bolted for the barn. Though she knew Ranelli must be hungry, she couldn’t stop by the kitchens. She needed to see her daughter first.
But when she arrived, panting—Ranelli was gone.
Her heart plummeted. Fighting panic, she sprinted to the guesthouse—only to find Hartland hammering at the roof with furious intensity.
"Mr. Hartland?"
Startled, the old man turned. Recognizing her, he climbed down, face grim.
"What are you doing here?"
Ivnia hovered, torn between courtesy and terror. Hartland coughed awkwardly, avoiding her eyes.
"Well… remembered the roof used to leak when my wife and I lived here… Anyway, the child isn’t here."
"You saw Ranelli? She’s missing? Where—?"
Hartland scratched his head, gaze darting.
"Found her starving outside the barn. Took her to eat, was bringing her to you when—ah, the new master showed up. Said he’d take her."
"The master?"
Ivnia turned ghostly white. Why would Arad take Ranelli? Worst-case scenarios flooded her mind, paralyzing thought.
‘Does he know? Will he hurt her? Send her to some orphanage? Oh God—’
Hartland called after her, "He said he’d bring her to you, just wait—" but she was already sprinting toward the mansion like a woman possessed. Servants gaped as she flew past, too shocked to stop her. She hesitated briefly on the fourth floor—then spotted the butler outside the late duke’s study, Arad’s office now.
"Ivnia?"
The butler stared at her wild hair, sweat-drenched face, and bloodless complexion. She looked deranged.
"Ranelli! Ranelli!"
Shoving past him, she threw herself at the door. Hampton grabbed her, aghast.
"Calm down!"
"Let go!"
She fought like a feral thing. The butler barely recognized the meek, obedient maid.
"This isn’t a place you barge into! The child will be returned—guards!"
Three men seized her. The more she struggled, the tighter they held.
‘If Arad learns the truth, he’ll kill Ranelli!’
That fear eclipsed all else.
"RANELLI!!"
Her scream was so heartrending even the guards faltered. In that split second of loosened grip, she lunged for the door—just as it opened.
"What’s this noise?"
"Ah—!"
Ivnia shrieked, colliding with Arad’s chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, braced for impact—but his arm shot out, catching her before she hit the floor. He hauled her upright, studying her with that trademark arrogance.
"Like a moth to flame."
***
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