I Ran Away And The Reverse Harem Started

Chapter 75 Lucas’s response to the incident between Angela and me was simple: termination.For maids, the primary disciplinary actions are flogging or dismissal. Rather than leave the punishment to Mrs. Rosa, Lucas decided on the latter.“Without a recommendation letter, no estate near the capital will hire her. A maid dismissed without one will have no choice but to seek work in a small village far away.”“That’s probably the cleanest solution.”With both Lucas and Yvette having witnessed Angela’s behavior, her redemption was impossible.Recalling the confrontation with Angela and Yvette stumbling upon it made my face burn again.What’s more embarrassing—being caught in such a situation by my friends or by someone I barely know?After a long night of working the party, my body already felt heavy, and now my mind was burdened, too.As I let out a deep sigh, Lucas poked my cheek. At some point, he had moved closer, leaving only a few inches between us.“Your face is red, Rosie. You look like a tomato.”“What’s with calling your sister a tomato, huh?”I narrowed my eyes at him, and Lucas, instead of backing down, pouted dramatically. He muttered nonsense about it being because I was cute or something equally absurd.“You’re getting too cheeky. Just go to bed already—it’s almost dawn!”I smacked his arm, and Lucas grumbled under his breath before sticking his hands in his pockets and trudging back toward the villa. I, too, decided to head back to the maids’ quarters before it got any later.Angela’s room was firmly locked, and Mrs. Rosa informed me that Angela had been placed on probation.  ***** Deborah took a deep breath.The moonlight bathed the estate in a silvery glow. The townhouse of the Louise family stood as she remembered it—unchanged.Long ago, so far back she could barely recall, Deborah had first visited the townhouse in the capital, holding her mother’s hand.It was during a tumultuous period of political and diplomatic unrest, with wars being threatened and kings being replaced.It was also the time when, after over a century, the temple had sought divine prophecy to calm the chaos enveloping the kingdom.It was an era when nouveau riche merchants and commoners began to stir together, challenging old hierarchies. Railroads were being laid, and a journey to a resort town took no more than a single night. Yet amid such technological progress, a divine prophecy had suddenly emerged.No matter how advanced technology became, nothing quelled unrest like divine power. More precisely, people needed something, anything, to cling to in their weariness.“There is a noble girl born three years ago whom the gods have chosen. This child, loved by the gods, will bring light to the future of our kingdom.”The prophecy specifically referred to a noble girl born on a certain day three years prior, declaring her the Saint of the gods.And so, a courtesan from the capital’s red-light district brought Deborah to the Louise family’s townhouse, clutching her small hand.It was during this time when the prophecy about the Saint had spread across the kingdom.“This child is yours,” the courtesan said, shoving a scruffy silver-haired girl onto the floor. Deborah stumbled and fell to her knees on the ornate carpet.Baron Louise, his face hidden behind a thick beard, raised his eyebrows in annoyance.He looked nothing like a nobleman. The scent of alcohol and cigars clung to him so strongly that it was nauseating to approach him.His desk was a chaotic mess, making it impossible to imagine any work had ever been done there.Young Deborah, frightened and trembling, looked up at her father for the first time in her life.“And how am I supposed to believe this girl is my daughter?”“Just look at her and look in the mirror. She’s the spitting image of you,” the courtesan replied.Baron Louise knew the courtesan well; she had been his lover of sorts three years prior. But their fleeting passion had quickly fizzled out.“Who’s to say you weren’t fooling around with some other scoundrel while you were with me?”Despite his words, Baron Louise rose heavily from his chair, lifting Deborah’s chin with the tip of his cane.“M-Mother…”Deborah stammered, barely managing to meet his gaze, her body trembling.Indeed, Deborah bore an uncanny resemblance to Baron Louise. Her silver hair gleamed like spun silk, and her violet eyes mirrored his own. Even her facial features were a near replica of his.The baron chuckled dryly.“So, this girl was born on the day of the prophecy?”“She was. If you don’t believe me, I can call the midwife who helped deliver her,” the courtesan insisted.“No, that won’t be necessary.”“What do you mean?”The courtesan crossed her arms, displeased.“It doesn’t matter whether she was born on the day of the prophecy or not.”“What are you saying…?”“You clearly want something, bringing this child to me. Fine. I’ll tell the steward to take her in. But don’t set foot in my house again.”The courtesan twisted her lips into a bitter smile. That was exactly what she had wanted.And so, Deborah passed from her courtesan mother’s hands into the care of Baron Louise, and then, finally, to the temple in the capital.The midwife from the slums confirmed Deborah’s birthdate, and no other noble girl had been born on that day.In truth, even if there had been another noble girl born that day, Deborah would never have known.Once she was placed under the temple’s care, events moved swiftly. The Saint, beloved by the gods, was revealed to the kingdom.Thus, Deborah the illegitimate child became Deborah Louise, and from Deborah Louise, she transformed into Deborah the Saint.The daughter of a courtesan who had wandered the red-light district became the most revered and sacred woman, adored by an entire kingdom.  ***** Deborah followed the butler’s guidance toward her father’s study.Since becoming the Saint, she had visited this place only a handful of times. Her father, however, had never once called for her.It was as if she didn’t exist. After extracting money from the temple, he never so much as showed his face.Walking through the moonlit corridors of the townhouse, Deborah’s thoughts churned.Was I really the only noble girl born on the day of the prophecy? What if there had been another girl? Someone not like me but a perfect aristocratic heir?The whispers of the priests in the temple had always unsettled her, planting seeds of doubt.More than that, a certain face kept resurfacing in her mind.Yvette and the Büllosen viscount’s family.Why do I keep thinking of Lady Yvette’s younger sister?Deborah was close to Yvette and knew her family had lost a younger sister around the same age as Deborah.But Yvette had left for Rewybourne on holiday early, so Deborah had never had the chance to ask the exact date of her sister’s birth.And… she lacked the courage to ask.If that missing girl’s birthday is the same as mine… if two girls were born under the prophecy…Could it really be a coincidence that another noble girl had gone missing?What disturbed Deborah most was not just the possibility of another Saint but the darker suspicion gnawing at her.What if someone deliberately hid the other girl?Lost in her forbidden and ominous thoughts, Deborah was startled when the butler ahead of her stopped. Holding a candle, he turned to her and said, “The baron is inside.”Ahead, the door to the study loomed.Baron Louise had entrusted the management of his fief to a cousin, living in the capital where he squandered his days in drink and smoke.A father who reeked of cigars, whose office stank of neglect and indulgence. A man who had sold his daughter to the temple without a second thought.Deborah stood before the door, overwhelmed by a nauseating sense of dread, before finally entering.The room, dimly lit by several candles, revealed the baron sprawled on his desk, legs propped up, snoring loudly in a drunken stupor.“Father.”“Hm…”“Father, wake up. I need to speak with you.”Deborah shook him gently, motioning for the butler to leave. The butler hesitated, casting her a worried glance, but eventually exited quietly.The baron groaned and opened his bloodshot eyes.“You… What are you doing here?”“Why are you sleeping here?”“And what are you doing out of the temple? Aren’t you supposed to be serving there?”Awake and recognizing her, the baron barked at her furiously.“You selfish little thing! Wandering about instead of doing your sacred duties. What do you think this is, your home?”“…If this isn’t my home, then where is it?”Deborah struggled to calm her shaky breathing. The baron scowled at her and reached for his bottle of brandy, gulping it down like water.Deborah grabbed his hand to stop him.“Please stop drinking. I need to talk to you.”“Let go.”“I have questions.”“I said, let go!”Irritated, the baron pushed her hand aside and rose to his feet, his movements heavy with drunkenness. Everyone knew the baron’s reputation for being a slave to the bottle.Deborah looked directly into the eyes of the man who shared her features, her biological father.She had never spent a single day with him, never known how far his degeneration had gone.Swallowing her pounding heart, Deborah steadied herself and spoke.“Father, did you know?”Her voice, usually so refined, wavered, her body trembling as if it might collapse.“There was another noble girl born on the day of the prophecy. Another candidate for the Saint, besides me.”“……”“It’s possible I’m not the true Saint chosen by the temple. I’ve served for twenty years, but maybe someone else was meant to take my place.”Despite her best efforts, tears welled up, her throat tightening with emotion.Twenty years. A full twenty years.While other girls played, fell in love, married, and built families, she had devoted her life to the temple.But what if I’m not the Saint?What if the role of Saint had been fabricated by someone’s ambition? What would become of her life then?As Deborah stood trembling, her emotions barely contained, the baron smirked—a sinister, foreboding expression.The realization that it was a sneer came too late.A sudden, violent noise tore through the room as Deborah’s head snapped to the side from the force of his slap.