The escape plan was originally prepared for Flora, so the energy supply system’s recovery was naturally incredibly swift.
In the early hours at the villa, the lighting made the place look exquisite and bright.
The carefully decorated room, and the beautiful blue-haired girl walking through the hallway — such a scene naturally evoked an image of nobility and elegance.
Rinka believed that when she first came here, she must have intended to turn the girl before her into someone who would inspire such associations.
But now, after this brief period of chaotic haste, she realized that such a thought was not hers to hold.
At least as she followed Flora upstairs and watched her walk down the brightly lit corridor toward her room, the girl’s back seemed overwhelmingly shadowed.
[Are you putting on this act just so I won’t be punished? Forcing yourself into such a false performance must be painful, yet as your servant and etiquette teacher, I should feel pleased, right?]
She should be pleased.
But why did it feel so unbearably painful?
It was terrible.
In the past, when carrying out the House of the Main Family’s orders to do some rather dark and extreme things, Rinka had never felt as upset as she did seeing Flora’s smile now.
Rinka wanted to know the answer, but her instincts warned her she was pondering a question no servant should ask.
The door was pushed open, and the two entered the room.
Flora sat on the bed, while Rinka stood not far in front of her.
Neither spoke, and after about ten minutes of silence, Flora finally broke the stillness herself.
“Good night.”
She smiled at Rinka without any intention of further conversation, using only these two words as a way to dismiss her.
She was tired and wanted to rest.
“Miss Flora…”
Rinka opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but the words stuck silently.
She did not know what Flora had been like before.
But she clearly understood what Flora was now, at least knowing she had been part of the chain of events that changed the girl before her.
The painful feeling was actually simple.
She had tried to understand Flora, empathized with her.
Among those she had dealt with before, there had been innocent ones, but to her, they were like wildflowers by the roadside — easy to trample without regret.
But Flora gave her a fleeting fragrance.
In just a single day, with an influence almost like magic, she had shaken her.
“When dawn comes, I want to get energized and learn etiquette from you. Rest early.”
With a smile again, Flora urged her to leave.
The surveillance system had already been restored; their every move would be observed by those watching the feed.
Rinka knew that using her privileges without Moliya’s permission would only bring trouble.
She understood this principle, and Flora understood it even more.
But…“No, Miss Flora, your decision is foolish, marked by a ridiculous kindness no noble should possess.”
Rinka looked Flora in the eyes, her expression reverting to the state when Flora first met her: calm, cold, carrying the ruthless air of a noble’s hound.
“I said I want to rest.”
Flora’s smile faded as she tried to order Rinka to leave, but the maid took out her wand.
“If it’s my fault, then I should be punished properly. Education means correcting mistakes immediately.”
“Get out…”
Before the command could be finished, Rinka cast the controlling magic she had used earlier precisely on Flora again.
Then, expressionlessly but efficiently, she took off her maid outfit.
Following Moliya’s instructions, she wore less clothing.
No shyness, no awkwardness.
As if accustomed to this, wearing only her undergarments, Rinka took out a punishment whip and placed it into Flora’s hands, whose eyes flickered between pleading and refusal.
Flora saw the scars left by whipping and cuts on the maid’s fair skin — on her shoulders, neck, waist, and back.
“Miss Flora, nobles must understand how to punish their servants. Being allowed to punish by hand is actually a form of respect toward me.”
She knelt before Flora without closing her eyes, speaking softly, “So please, whip me as a lesson.”
Setting aside her complicated feelings, just Moliya’s suspicious attitude was enough for Rinka to know she must be punished, lest she face retaliation and reckoning later, and Flora fall into an even more precarious state.
[Hopefully this will help you drop that fake smile.]
The powerful controlling magic combined with silence effects and the supervisory magic’s inherent weakening of resistance to manipulative spells left Flora with no means to resist.
How could she not understand Rinka’s reasoning?
But she truly didn’t want to do this, and she refused to deceive herself with the thought that “Rinka is willing.”
The feeling of having her principles and bottom lines challenged and trampled was unbearable, and the bitterness of someone else getting hurt for her sake was too sour.
Crack—
The first lash fell silently from Rinka, and Flora wanted to close her eyes but couldn’t.
Second lash, third lash…
The maid’s skin showed blood marks, torn and raw, the scent of blood growing stronger with each strike.
This punishment continued until Flora no longer cared to count, numb with pain, before finally coming to an end.
Rinka staggered to her feet, wiped the blood off the floor with a cloth, and lit the incense in the room.
Taking back the whip, she bowed to Flora and whispered good night before tremblingly pushing open the door to leave, without even thinking to tend to Flora’s wounds.
The door closed with a thud, and the controlling magic’s effect remained.
Flora could clearly hear someone stumbling outside.
She wanted to get up and check, to heal the maid.
But exhaustion and weakness eroded her consciousness.
The incense was mixed with medicine; Rinka’s act prevented Flora from breaking her duties and ensured she wouldn’t be unable to sleep after what had happened.
[Why must it be like this? Damn it.]
She still screamed inside, even knowing this was the most appropriate choice at the moment.
The surveillance footage was all watched by two people in the study.
But this time, the one staring blankly at the screen wasn’t Moliya, but Erka.
She found it strange.
Flora’s indifferent and evasive attitude toward her carried clear disgust.
Her performance was flawless, yet the behavior meant to win goodwill only drew colder rejection than Flora’s previous refusals.
She was perplexed, surprised by what Rinka had done.
That maid was truly ruthless; to such an extent, willing to take such actions to gain Flora’s trust.
Erka didn’t know what Moliya was thinking.
She looked toward someone who had just been called “sister” and had zoned out, apparently recovering from the shock, now offering her a faint smile.
[Even her smile seems more genuine than Flora’s, tsk…]
Erka couldn’t hold back her frustration, her heart stinging like being pierced by a thorn, wanting to vent her anger.
“The plan worked perfectly. Flora has matured. She’ll use feigned obedience to please me — how delightful.”
“How disgusting.”
Hearing Moliya’s words, Erka slapped the table and rose irritably.
“I’m going to sleep.”
No matter how much Flora upset her, it was nothing compared to this noble lady’s madness.