Working at a Haunted Mansion Chapter 59

Of all things, the last image she had of him was of him collapsing in pain—so whenever Lily felt sick, tired, or bumped herself somewhere, she couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden was all right by now.

“It’s been three weeks. Shouldn’t it have faded by now? How long am I going to be like this? What if I never get over it?”

She thought in despair. To be honest, forgetting Aiden seemed hopeless.

It had been Lily herself who claimed that even the strongest emotions eventually change. But could something this vivid really change?

Thinking about being bound to this feeling for the rest of her life made her dizzy. At this rate, she felt she wouldn’t even be able to date someone else—let alone get married.

She wanted to cut Aiden Kashimir out of her head completely.

He wouldn’t even let her feel a little peace. He constantly stirred up her thoughts, asking, “Lily, is this peace really what you chose over me?”

And each time, Lily couldn’t help but think that maybe staying with him would’ve been better…

“Pathetic. You ended it yourself—what are you doing?”

Lily cursed at herself.

“You shouldn’t have left that stupid letter. You shouldn’t have left the estate. Or at the very least, you should’ve gone back before getting the letter of recommendation!”

When she received the recommendation, she felt like her heart had dropped. And in that shock, she realized something—

That she had been secretly hoping Aiden wouldn’t give it to her. That he would refuse to say goodbye until the very end.

But she hadn’t imagined it out of nowhere. Wasn’t he the one who insisted his feelings would never change? And yet…

“Aaargh! Lily Dienta, do you even have a conscience? Can you even call yourself human?”

She gasped and forced herself to come to her senses.

She stormed into the study and grabbed a book—any book, without looking at the title. She needed something to take her mind off everything.

Something to keep her distracted. To let the time slip by without more of these thoughts.

 

 

****

 

 

 

 

Morning in the capital began early. Even before dawn fully broke, workers from various households were already bustling around the streets at a brisk pace.

Lily, still keeping to the habits she’d formed at the estate, had tidied up her bed early and come downstairs.

Tasks like sweeping the front steps or tending to the outdoor flowerbeds had to be done before the noble residents began peering out their windows.

Just as she was tying on her apron, she heard a knock at the back door. When she went out, a man wearing a round hat was waiting beside a cart loaded with fruits and vegetables.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Bassen Weitzen of the Weitzen Trading Company. Are you the caretaker of Mr. Idyrins’ townhouse?”

“Yes, that’s right. Hello, I’m Lily Dienta. I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise. Idyrins… Idyrins… Ah, here it is.”

The man sifted through the stacked boxes and placed one of them on the ground.

“You can return the box next time.”

Looking inside, she saw basic staples like potatoes, onions, and carrots, along with a yellow paper bag.

“If there’s anything extra you need or want swapped out, just let me know ahead of time and I’ll bring it. Otherwise, I’ll come according to schedule.”

“I don’t have any special requests right now.”

“If you change your mind later, you can always visit the Weitzen Trading Company. Now, I just need your signature on the receipt.”

Lily looked at the ledger he offered. It listed the items, quantities, and prices. Potatoes, onions, carrots, and… grapes?

She bent over and opened the yellow bag inside the box. Sure enough, a bunch of purple grapes sat within.

“I don’t really need these.”

“Yes, Mr. Idyrins actually left a message saying the caretaker would say exactly that—and also not to refuse them under any circumstances. There are a few more non-negotiables like that, and I ask for your understanding.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Your signature, please.”

Bassen handed her the ledger and a pen. Caught off guard, Lily scribbled her name without protest.

He took the ledger back, tucked it under his arm, and reached for the cart handle.

“Well then, have a good da—”

“Wait, please!”

Lily hurried to stop him.

“If you have a moment… could you tell me anything about Mr. Mark Idyrins?”

It was a question that had been bothering her since yesterday.

Who was Mark Idyrins, really? All she knew was that he loved travel, had an absurd amount of money, and was generous to the point of being suspiciously eccentric when it came to caretakers.

From what the butler had said, it seemed the Weitzen Company had long been doing business with the townhouse, so they had to know something.

No matter how secretive a landlord might be, there was no stopping the gossip among the staff. Surely the previous kitchen hand had let something slip.

“You mean Mr. Idyrins, the new owner of this house?”

“New owner?”

“Yes.”

New owner? That was a seriously suspicious term!

“There used to be an old lady living here alone, but suddenly the property changed hands.”

“When was that?”

“Let’s see… maybe about two weeks ago? I heard he’s some distant, rich relative of royalty who dotes on his daughter.”

He readjusted his grip on the cart.

“They were making a huge fuss trying to get lady-like furniture. One of my friends helped out and treated us to drinks yesterday to celebrate finally finishing the job. If you’re the caretaker, you’d best stay on the daughter’s good side.”

With that, Bassen left, and Lily found herself burdened with even more questions than before.

The Mark Idyrins he described shared nothing in common with the one the butler had spoken of—other than the name.

The butler hadn’t mentioned anything about the owner being married or having a daughter. In fact, he had claimed to have lived on the very feminine third floor himself— but the renovations there had only been completed yesterday.

Actually, the entire house had only been transferred to Mark Idyrins two weeks ago. Two weeks ago… the timing was strangely familiar.

Then there was the elegant furniture suited for a young lady… and those unnecessary luxury grapes.

A certain person kept hovering in her thoughts.

Lily shook her head.

Thinking that Aiden Kashimir had orchestrated all of this was far too self-centered.

Why would he spend so much money setting up a charade for someone he had already parted ways with? The Duke of Kashimir was not known for acts of charity.

She carried the box inside the house.

Managing a house where no one came to mess it up was the easiest job Lily had ever had.

Of course, she still had to dust everything in case the owner arrived unannounced, polish the floors and furniture, and watch for uninvited insects or spiders.

But the house was in good condition for now, and none of it had to be done all at once.

Besides, aside from her private quarters, it was just a two-story townhouse. For someone like Lily, who had once handled the cleaning of the entire main estate by herself, this was easier than eating soup.

Having finished her tasks for the day, Lily was now loitering in the servant’s waiting room on the first floor. It was still too bright outside to go back up to the third floor, and staying here made it easier to notice visitors.

On the six-seat wooden table were the scattered contents of her day—an upside-down book she had been reading, an ink bottle, and the butler’s instruction manual.

She pushed everything aside and slumped over the table, staring at the plate in front of her.

On the plate sat a bunch of grapes. Even in the dim indoor lighting, the freshly washed fruit glowed with a mysterious shimmer.

Each plump grape looked perfect, completely unblemished, exactly as she had received it that morning.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to eat them— but every time she reached for one, a certain someone’s face would rise in her mind, stealing away her appetite.

A pale, pleading man, his face twisted in pain…

The questions that had tickled the back of her mind ever since receiving the delivery had faded while she was busy, but now that she was idle again, they came rushing back.

Who was the real owner of this house?

She didn’t know everyone in this vast empire, so not recognizing the name “Idyrins” wasn’t all that strange.

But no—honestly, it was strange. “Idyrins”? What kind of name was that? She couldn’t even guess how to spell it properly.

Putting aside the mismatch between the butler and the supplier’s stories, how was she supposed to interpret this strange obsession with making sure she ate those grapes?

Lily glared at the fruit, then grabbed her journal and scribbled the name Mark Idyrins—her best guess at the spelling.

Underneath it, she wrote another name: Aiden Kashimir.

Just a glance made it obvious—only the letter order had been reshuffled to make it look different.

She frowned and stared at both names before angrily scratching out Aiden Kashimir.

No. I’m overthinking this. There’s probably at least one eccentric millionaire in the empire who, two weeks before going on a trip, suddenly decided to splurge on a townhouse in the capital.