Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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The next morning :
"Well done, Alfred. I expect nothing less from you," Arya complemented him. "Your praise is greatly appreciated, Madam Arya. I executed your instructions diligently," Alfred responded with a polite smile as they strolled through the corridor. "Have the workers left? You did give them a hafty price for their work, right?" Arya ask, excitement evident in her tone. "The workers have completed their tasks, and in accordance with your directive, I provided each of them with an additional five silver coins as a token of appreciation," he response. "That is wonderful to hear," she exclaims with radiance.
As Arya push open the ornate double doors, the air is tinged with a subtle scent of polished wood and fresh flowers. The renovated Duchess's office welcomes her with a harmonious blend of classic elegance and modern sophistication. As she walked inside, she felt a sense of setisfiction. Sunlight filters through large, gracefully draped windows, casting a warm glow on plush furnishings and intricate details. The walls, adorned with tasteful artwork, showcase a curated mix of contemporary and historical pieces. The polished hardwood floor beneath her feet carries her toward an imposing mahogany desk, neatly organized with papers and a vintage inkwell. The carpet under the table felt as a touch of lotus at her feet as it brushed against her skin. The room exudes an air of authority and refinement, a testament to the Duchess's taste and attention to detail.
"How is it, madam?" He ask politely. Smilingly Arya nod in approval, "I appreciate your support Alfred." She adds, "and is that a table full of paperwork I see?"
Slyly, the well-dressed man approached Arya, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Those need your approval, madam," he says, gesturing towards a stack of papers. "And those on the left side were meant for the duke, but since currently he is absencent, it falls on your shoulders." He took two steps back, his beaming smile accentuating the charm in his voice. "And I know, the way you are so perfect, you will do a wonderful job, my lady." With that, he swiftly retreated, leaving Arya standing there, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Arya muttered to herself, "Did he... did he just bury me in these mountains?" She watched in horror at the towering stacks of paperwork, each sheet seemingly a mountain of responsibility. 'Alfred, you traitor,' in her heart Arya crushed Alfred.
Arya's workspace, a battleground of paperwork, bore witness to her silent struggle. Alfred knock's intarupted her, "This is Alfred, madam," he announces, blissfully unaware of Arya's growing irritation. Yet no response came only the sound of pen scratching could be hear as Arya scribbles away. Alfred's persistent knocks resonated, each rap seemed to amplify her frustration. Her pen, transformed into a weapon fueled by irritation. "COME. IN. ALFRED," she replies, her annoyance seeping through.
The door creaked open, and Alfred strolled in. To her dismay, Alfred's entrance is anything but demure. He appears as if he's undergone a morning resurrection, now brimming with vitality. Alfred stood there, wearing a perpetually radiant smile. 'Ahh... that smile on his face, that annoying smile. Ahh... It irks me so very much,' Arya lamented, her eyes narrowing as she observed Alfred's buoyant demeanor.
