All Chapters of The lords' maid: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

​(Leo’s POV) ​The manor was completely silent by the time the grand clock struck midnight. ​I waited in my room until the last footsteps of the night guards faded down the hall before slipping out into the dark corridor. I didn't even have to guess where I was going. For the past week, I had noticed a quiet, predictable habit of hers—whenever the house fell asleep, she would slip down to the kitchen hearth with a book and a small lamp. ​I couldn't quite explain why I kept seeking her out. But in a house suffocated by my father's rigid expectations, trade treaties, and the relentless pressure of noble titles, sitting in the quiet kitchen with Eva felt like a breath of fresh air. She listened without judgment, laughed without court pretense, and seemed to understand me better than anyone in the capital ever had. ​I pushed open the heavy kitchen door, catching her sitting on the wooden bench near the dying embers of the hearth, a small book resting in her lap. ​"I had a feeling

Eva’s POV ​"Eva," Mrs. Gable had instructed as I finished polishing the hallway banisters, "Lady Genevieve requires assistance in her chambers. Her personal maid has taken ill with a migraine. Go up and help her style her hair for the evening." ​"Yes, Mrs. Gable," I replied, smoothing down my apron. ​Stepping into Genevieve's suite was like walking into an opulent, velvet-draped storehouse. Wardrobes stood wide open, overflowing with dozens of sweeping gowns in rich silks and heavy damasks. Trays of solid gold hairpins, pearl combs, and crystal perfume bottles lined the marble vanity, catching the warm candlelight. ​All bought with my father's stolen properties, I thought bitterly, keeping my face entirely blank as I bowed softly. All paid for by the destruction of my family. ​"Good evening, My Lady," I said, my voice quiet and measured. "Mrs. Gable sent me to assist with your hair." ​Genevieve sat before the tall oval mirror, wearing a loose silk dressing robe. She glance

Eva’s POV ​The afternoon sun filtered softly through the iron trellises of the estate’s lower vineyard, casting long, golden shadows across the stone path. ​I moved quietly behind Lady Eleanor, holding a wicker basket as she carefully clipped ripe, dark purple grapes from the creeping vines. The air smelled of sweet earth and warm summer wine, a tranquil setting that stood in stark, terrifying contrast to the chaotic knot tightening in my stomach after my confrontation with Lucian. ​"Eva," Lady Eleanor called out softly, setting another cluster of grapes into my basket. Her tone was light, yet carried a sudden, quiet depth. "Have you ever been with a man?" ​I blinked, taking a half-step back as my fingers tightened around the woven handle of the basket. "No, My Lady." ​"Do you ever wish to be?" she asked, her back turned to me as her shears clipped through another vine. ​I paused, looking down at the dusty stone path before answering honestly. "I suppose... I would want to

Eva’s POV ​I sat on the edge of my narrow cot, staring at the floor in the dark. ​Lucian and Leo both knew I was the woman in the yellow dress, but my place in Valenridge was hanging by a thread. If Lucian exposed me to Lady Eleanor or Duke De witt, I would be cast out before I could finish what I started. ​I needed to know where I stood. ​Slipping out of the servants' quarters, I made my way through the quiet corridors to Lucian’s study. I knocked twice. ​"Come in," his voice called out. ​I opened the door. Lucian sat behind his desk, candlelight catching the sharp edge of his jaw. As he looked up and saw me, his face hardened into immediate disgust. ​"May I speak with you, My Lord?" ​"Sure," he replied, dipping his quill back into the inkwell without giving me his audience. "You may proceed." ​I took a few steps closer to the desk, keeping my voice low. "I would like to know if you have agreed not to tell your mother about the ball." ​Lucian stopped writing. He s

Eva’s POV ​By the second day of my mandated rest, the walls of my small room felt like they were closing in on me. Idle hands were dangerous in my line of work, and doing nothing only allowed the heavy, suffocating memories of my father to fester. ​Seeking air, I slipped out toward the estate stables. ​I had always been curious about the horses, but my duties as a housemaid had never brought me past the stone courtyard. The air inside the stable was rich with sweet hay and cedar shavings. I walked slowly down the aisle, stopping before a massive, sleek black stallion. Reaching into a wooden trough, I offered him a small handful of oats, smiling softly as his warm breath puffed against my palm. ​"Shouldn't you be resting?" ​I jumped, pulling my hand back as a deep, familiar voice echoed from the sunlit doorway. ​Lucian stepped into the aisle, unbuttoning his riding gloves. His dark eyes swept over me, taking in my color—which had thankfully returned—before he crossed his ar