The Master of Shadows

After leaving Master Markus’s room, Moza followed Thalia’s swift, decisive steps.

As they walked toward the servants' wing, simple chandeliers cast a dim, amber glow every ten meters. The floor beneath them shifted from opulent marble to utilitarian gray tiles, and the surrounding high walls were painted a sterile, stark white.

"This is the servants' quarters," Thalia said without looking back. "Outside guests are strictly forbidden. Even the Young Masters rarely come here unless it is for something of grave importance."

Thalia continued to lead the way down a corridor that sat lower than the mansion's main floor. Small doors lined both sides, each marked with a room number and a wooden plaque bearing a servant's name.

"I will show you to your room. Ninda has already delivered your suitcase," Thalia stated flatly.

They reached the very end of the hallway where only one door remained. Thalia reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver key. After a sharp turn in the lock, the brown door opened with a low, haunting creak.

Moza peered inside, surveying the space that would now be her sanctuary. The room was comfortable enough, roughly the same size as her bedroom back in Sarima. It held a bed, a wardrobe, and a wicker chair paired with a small desk. In the corner, her suitcase sat neatly waiting for her.

"Sit down, Moza. This is your room," Thalia commanded.

Standing tall before Moza, the head housekeeper began to recite the house's ironclad decrees.

"Listen carefully to the rules and commit them to memory. First, working hours begin at six in the morning and conclude at eight at night. Any additional tasks will be compensated as overtime, subject to the Young Masters' discretion."

Moza nodded obediently.

"Second, your conduct must be impeccable. You must show absolute respect and never argue with the commands of Master Markus or the five Young Masters. Servants are forbidden from maintaining prolonged eye contact with the Young Masters, and physical contact is strictly prohibited."

Thalia paused, her gaze turning razor-sharp as she fixed her eyes on Moza.

"The third and most vital rule is confidentiality. Whatever happens within these walls stays within these walls. You are forbidden from discussing mansion affairs with anyone—be it family, friends, or on social media. If you are caught breaching the Limantaras' privacy, you will be terminated immediately and face legal prosecution."

Moza swallowed hard. Becoming a servant here was akin to living in a gilded cage. Yet, the stranger the rules, the more determined she felt to conquer them.

Once the briefing was over, Thalia pointed to a uniform folded neatly on the bed. It was a deep crimson dress with white lace trim, accompanied by a pair of black stockings.

"This uniform must be worn every day during work hours. Now, bathe and change."

"Forgive me, Madam Thalia," Moza interjected, finding her courage. "Master Rezon asked me to prepare pomegranate pudding for Master Kageo. Where should I deliver it?"

"To the second floor. Master Kageo’s room is at the far end of the hall," Thalia answered. "The remaining pudding is in the refrigerator. Take it from the kitchen and bring it to him."

Thalia then leaned in slightly toward Moza, her voice dropping as if sharing a warning.

"Master Kageo’s door is usually unlocked, but you must not simply barge in. Knock and wait for his permission. Once the pudding is delivered, leave immediately without unnecessary chatter. Master Kageo is extremely sensitive; he does not like to be disturbed."

Moza nodded, her heart beginning to drum against her ribs. An unlocked door. A sensitive temperament. Kageo’s personality seemed to be a puzzle that was difficult to solve.

After Thalia left, Moza approached the bed and lifted the crimson uniform. She ran her fingers over the smooth fabric. This wasn't just a dress; it was a symbol that her battle for justice had officially begun.

Without wasting time, Moza gathered her things and headed to the communal bathroom. She finished her bath quickly and pulled her long hair into a high, practical ponytail.

Transforming into a maid, Moza hurried to the main kitchen. Following Thalia’s instructions, she retrieved the pomegranate pudding and placed it on a silver tray.

"Madam Thalia, I am leaving to deliver the pudding now," Moza announced, seeking final approval.

Thalia nodded. "Once you are finished, return to the kitchen immediately. you are needed to assist the others with dinner preparations."

Moza lifted the tray and walked toward the central hall. Her steps were steady, even as anxiety clouded her mind. Physically, Kageo might be the weakest of the brothers, but she knew she had to stay vigilant. Often, those who appeared the most helpless were the most dangerous of all.

Moreover, the man from that night had mentioned "healing." Among the five Limantara sons, only Kageo was sickly and confined to a wheelchair.

Brushing aside her fears, Moza climbed the stairs to the second floor. She passed five tightly shut doors before finally stopping at the one in the corner. Certain it was Kageo's room, she took a deep breath and raised her hand.

Knock... knock... knock!

There was no answer. From within, Moza could hear the strains of classical music—a haunting blend of violin and piano. The melody was beautiful, heart-wrenching, and filled with a profound sense of longing.

She knocked several more times, but the result was the same. Silence greeted her from the other side. For a few seconds, Moza weighed her options. She couldn't simply wait here indefinitely. Remembering Thalia's mention of the unlocked door, Moza mustered the courage to turn the handle. As expected, it gave way easily.

Hesitantly, she stepped inside.

Kageo’s room was bathed in the soft glow of a small desk lamp. On the walls hung antique violins, an acoustic guitar, and a saxophone, marking the owner's deep love for music.

"Good evening, Master Kageo. I am Moza, the new maid. Master Rezon instructed me to deliver this pomegranate pudding to your room," she announced, introducing herself.

She scanned the room, searching for a sign of him. A second later, Moza froze as the bathroom door swung open. A young man stepped out wearing only a black bathrobe that hung open at the chest, revealing pale skin that shimmered like pearls.

His face was strikingly handsome—not with masculine ruggedness, but with the ethereal softness of a prince.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. The man's hazel eyes widened the moment he saw Moza standing in the middle of his sanctuary.

Moza stammered, her voice failing her.

Was this truly Kageo, the youngest Limantara? Why was he standing there, walking on his own, without the help of a wheelchair?