~Chapter 9~
The Baroness’s brow creased, but Camilla continued calmly.
“Please allow me to participate in Nina’s lessons from now on.”
Nina had always been a scatterbrained student.
In her previous life, Camilla had fought tooth and nail to maintain her scholarship, even tutoring other students to afford her living expenses.
If Nina’s going to stop making mistakes, things can’t continue like this.
Two years of shared lessons had made it clear—there was nothing left to learn from Madam Milliam.
“She’ll never improve by being beaten. If you grant me just a little authority over her lessons, I can guarantee far better results.”
And, conveniently, it would free her from the humiliating title of “the child who gets whipped.”
“I know you’re not fond of me, my lady, but if you allow it for only four days, I promise you won’t regret it.”
Now the Baroness’s gaze gleamed with intrigue.
“And if Nina’s grades don’t improve in four days?”
“Then I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem fit.”
A slow, satisfied smile curved the Baroness’s lips.
“Very well. I’ll give you four days.”
Camilla bowed gracefully and departed the room, her steps echoing softly through the hall.
Let’s begin with her etiquette lessons.
Ding.
The keys sang under deft fingers, until a sharp note broke the melody.
“No, no, young lady! Your turn must be more elegant!”
Madam Milliam’s shrill tone made Nina falter again, nearly tripping over her own feet. The tutor’s face contorted in frustration.
Clap!
Camilla’s clear voice rang out.
“That’s enough.”
Milliam turned, her expression dark.
“Excuse me? Punishment time comes after class—”
“No. Here—this is a letter from the Baroness herself. From now on, I’ll be assisting with Nina’s instruction.”
“You? The child who gets beaten? Preposterous—”
But the woman’s protest died on her lips as she read the Baroness’s seal.
Camilla approached the center of the hall, where Nina stood nervously.
“Nina.”
“S-Sister?”
“Let’s start lighter, shall we? Take my hand.”
“Eh?”
Her ankle had long since healed. Camilla offered her hand, then nodded toward the piano. Milliam, though visibly displeased, resumed playing.
“Step with me, Nina. Relax.”
In The Downfall of Nina, the heroine had been pure but far from foolish.
She learns best through her body, not books.
That was why she excelled in social graces and—unfortunately—those darker, more intimate aspects of her story. But her current teacher focused only on theory.
It’s no wonder she’s floundering. I’ll handle this myself.
“Think of it as exchanging movements with me. I’m your mirror.”
Camilla took the lead, assuming the male’s steps. Hesitant at first, Nina soon followed, instinctively mirroring her rhythm. Their feet brushed close but never collided, and Nina’s face brightened.
The tempo quickened, but she managed every step, laughing as her confidence bloomed.
At the crescendo, Camilla lifted Nina’s hand.
“Now, the turn. Imagine your gown swirling dramatically—beautiful, isn’t it?”
Nina spun, giggling, her layered lace fluttering like petals.
When the music faded, Camilla bowed and kissed the back of her hand.
“There. You’ve finished perfectly.”
Nina’s cheeks flamed red.
“Sister, that was… amazing!”
“Hm?”
“You looked so cool!”
Camilla tilted her head, amused. First perfect dance, I see. No wonder she’s thrilled.
But then she noticed Madam Milliam’s expression—tight, furious.
“Who told you to act as her partner?”
Ah. Here it comes.
“You’ll ruin her manners! How dare you teach her wrong!”
Truthfully, Nina’s poor progress was as much the tutor’s fault as her own. Milliam’s pride far outweighed her skill.
“The lesson is over. Such ignorance of form! I’ll report this to the Baroness. Come up here, lift your skirt!”
Camilla’s eyes turned cold.
“Isn’t it you who’s forgotten your place?”
A male voice cut through the tension, and Camilla froze.
“I can’t believe a mere employee dares to question what the Baroness herself permitted.”
“Ares.”
What’s he doing here?
The young man strode forward, grabbed Camilla’s wrist, and scowled.
“Let go.”
“She’s family, and you’re just staff. Are you trying to insult our house?”
His grip tightened painfully, but she didn’t flinch.
“The Baroness also permitted me to assist Nina’s lessons,” she said coolly.
Then, with a sharp twist, she broke free of his grasp.
“You—”
“It seems the famous Madam Milliam of the esteemed Milliam family has a slower wit than I’d heard. You keep interrupting what the Baroness herself approved.”
Camilla smiled faintly, a soft sigh escaping her lips—mockery wrapped in grace.
The tutor, livid, raised her cane.
Camilla heard the rush of air and braced herself for pain—
Crack!
—only, the pain never came.
Before her stood Ares, his back broad, his hand blocking the blow.
“Did you just try to hit me?”
He… stopped it?
Before anyone could intervene—
Thud!
Ares kicked Madam Milliam squarely in the shin. She screamed and crumpled.
Camilla blinked.
Has he lost his mind?
She had wanted to take the blow—to provoke outrage and have Milliam dismissed for abusing the Baron’s “property.”
That would’ve made her easy to remove…
“How dare you!”
“Violent? Look who’s talking.”
Nina went pale as Ares sneered down at the fallen tutor.
“Ares—Brother?!”
“You saw that, right? She hit me—and she was about to hit you too.”
Nina’s eyes widened.
“Y-yes, I saw!”
“Good. Then go tell your mother exactly what happened.”
“Lord Ares!”
But Nina was already running, swift as a sparrow.
Milliam tried to rise, then fell again with a groan.
“What is the meaning of this—!”
“It means you should’ve known your place sooner.”
Still dazed, Camilla found herself being pulled out of the hall by Ares.
He really is insane.
She yanked her wrist free in the corridor.
“What are you doing?”
Since the day she’d humiliated him, Ares had alternated between avoiding her and picking fights whenever someone else was present.
“Answer me, Ares.”
Instead, he spun around, gripping her shoulders.
“What are you doing, huh? Have you lost your mind? You provoked her on purpose!”
“Let go!”
“Trying to pull another trick on me, is that it?!”
He’d never forgotten the shame of being overpowered by a mere illegitimate girl—and now that girl shared his family dinners, gaining trust and recognition.
The family’s dog has become one of us?
For two years he’d hovered around her, restless, unable to understand why he couldn’t look away.
And when he saw that tutor raise her cane—
“Come here and lift your skirt!”
—rage had surged through him, inexplicable and uncontrollable.
What was that?
The thought of anyone hurting her, even for a moment, had made his blood boil.
“If that pale face of yours got scarred, it’d be even harder to look at—are you crazy?!”
Camilla blinked, stunned.
What did he just say?
For a second she thought she’d misheard. Their eyes met—his full of turmoil—and he grabbed her chin roughly.
“You…”
His grip was too strong; pain shot through her jaw. She cursed herself for not bringing her vial of anesthetic.
“It hurts! Let me go!”
Smack!
A sudden noise broke through—the sound of skin meeting skin.
Golden hair shimmered before her eyes.
“That’s a bad habit,” said a soft, youthful voice. “Didn’t you hear her? She said it hurts.”
Between her and Ares now stood a boy, radiant as an angel, his slender fingers locked around Ares’s wrist.
