Strict Governess Novels & Stories

Brock had a guileless, almost naive appearance, while Garrison had a dark, severe look with a sharp, watchful eyes. "Either one of you will be required to have her guarded and accompanied at all times, with or without her consent. You will do it in relays." He bored a gaze to the rest of the staff. "And the rest of you will also be responsible for keeping her within the safety of this house, under any circumstances. Is that understood?" The servants exchanged uncertain looks, but no one made an answer. Certainly they were not prepared to face that sort of situation. His eyes flashed, brushing the timid faces before him with an impatient look, and Ava could see some of the staff flinch while

Louis pointed out from somewhere. At the same moment, the woman who had greeted him at the gate appeared and was two steps away from Archie. "She is the governess of the mansion. She will accompany you to your imperial highness' quarters and will introduce your Imperial Highness to the mansion." Archie nodded. "Please your highness, please accompany me," said Nadine. Archie nodded. "Excuse me," said Archie. Archie turned at the same time as Nadine and they both headed towards the exit of the Great Hall.

Her behavior seems suspicious to Isabella. What is behind this door? Mrs. Garrett is the head of the maid. She's in her late fifties. When she came here Alex introduced her to that kind looking lady. She has been working here since Alex's birth. Isabella felt somewhat at ease in the company of the older lady. Without giving it much thought, she made her way downstairs. After having her dinner she was about to leave the place, a car horn broke off. Isabella's instincts kicked into motion. She climbed up the stairs quietly and raced towards Zara's room.

Clipper intersects. “Is that what she’s called?” I ask again, referring to the governess. “Ye—yes.” She answers. “And does ‘born of stars’ entail that your princess is destined to marry a king or also, reserved for an alliance that bears a union with a king?” I ask and the governess shines her eyes, unable to answer because it is an implicating question. The governess discretion in not answering my question evokes a conversation between the ministers and they argue amongst themselves.

Before the voice finished, her stepmother, dressed in a luxurious gown, with brown hair styled in elaborate curls, entered gracefully. She sat down on a cushioned bench, smiling, "I just came in and heard someone saying they wanted someone to die knowing why? Our earl's mansion has always been kind-hearted. Who is so ruthless to wish death on someone? Besides, Miss Miranda is still recovering. No matter what the servant did wrong, a scolding is enough, for the sake of Miss Miranda accumulating good karma." Without looking at Miranda, she motioned for someone to help the kneeling Greta up.

Rebecca flashed a glance at Zita, who was wearing a smile. "It seems you were right. The Lady does have an appetite." She replied jokingly. "You know Zita, you'll definitely make a good governess for the Lady." "Are you really that sure, Your grace? I don't have any knowledge of the role of a governess." Zita answered jovially, surprised at the position. "Well, you know the Lady-." The door opened and the Duke entered the room. Rebecca caught a glimpse of him and stopped. She looked away and had her eyes on her daughter. Zita turned to her side and saw him.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this but you can't, in no situation, react first. Instead, just report to me what you see and hear.” As they left the Princess alone for the evening, the Governess cornered Eloise. "How many times have I told you to watch what you say?" Eloise was spooked and stuttered. "Wha-What did I do?" Scoffing, the Governess rolled her eyes. "Have you forgotten the kind of days you had recently? We are not in Ehan, we are in a nation where we would have been grilled alive if we weren't accompanying the Princess!" She asserted their situation clearly, and Eloise stared at her quizzically unable to understand where the conversation was headed. "We can't let the Princess d

I found only confusion. “Not a single unfamiliar presence?” I pressed. “No, my lord.” Another servant spoke, seemingly hesitant. “There was… one visitor only, my lord.” My gaze sharpened. “Who?” The question came out even colder. “Young prince's Governess," she said quietly. “Miss Johnson.” The name struck harder than I expected. “Miss Johnson?” I couldn't hide the surprise beneath my tone. For a moment, the sound of it echoed too loudly in my mind. The governess who had been with Eryx since infancy. The woman who moved through the palace without being doubted due to her genuine and efficient work.

And in those moments, I had seen it clearly the space beside them where a mother should have been. “Papa,” Katherine beamed when the carriage door opened. The word escaping before she caught herself. She quickly lowered her head, swallowing her joy as though it were improper.“Katherine,” Lord Rathcliffe acknowledged. “Son,” he turned to David. That was all. I watched Katherine’s shoulders straighten, watched her tuck her hands neatly in front of her as though bracing herself for inspection rather than affection. And then something inside me shifted. They did not need a governess. They needed gentleness. Lorf Rathcliffe's gaze lifted to me before he moved past us into the house.

"Don't you think... the way Madam behaves and dresses has changed a lot since I've been gone?" ​Mrs. Gable stopped mid-motion, her hands hovering over a tray. "Shhhh! Don't let anyone hear that." She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Young Master appointed a teacher to teach her manners... to make her a perfect lady for the Harrington name." ​Rucku shook her head slowly. "But... I feel like it has changed her entirely. It feels... void. Like she’s being erased to fit a mold. It’s just my assumption, but it doesn't feel right."