“Now then, what shall I do?” Sofia murmured to herself under the covers.
After she’d switched places with Rachel yesterday, Sofia hadn’t been shy about taking advantage of her young mistress’s bed. Even if it was simple and only meant for temporary repose, it was still of excellent make, designed and built to satisfy a duke’s daughter.
The bed had been conscientiously designed for use in the dungeon, with a wide gap between the mattress and the floor to allow humidity to escape. The comforter was made with high-quality down and would naturally disperse any moisture from sweat absorbed during the night. There was also a ceiling and silk gauze curtains to maintain privacy. To be perfectly frank, this bed promised a far more restful sleep than the one Sofia and the other high-ranking maids who’d been allotted personal rooms were accustomed to sleeping in.
Now, as for what all that was pointing to...
For the first time in her twenty-one years serving Rachel, Sofia had slept in.
I could say, “Tee hee,” but it would just make me feel stupid, saying it out loud like that.
As long as nothing happened, she was just supposed to laze around pretending to be Rachel, so sleeping in shouldn’t be a problem. After all, Rachel had brought a ton of books in here, and they’d just topped off her supply of tea and biscuits. Aside from minding the rare guest, it was essentially going to be a two-day break—or it was supposed to be.
Who would have thought that Prince Elliott and his associates would turn up while she was sound asleep.
It wasn’t that Sofia woke up when Elliott arrived so much as she was jolted awake.
Although I did have the curtains drawn just to be safe, it was a poor decision to remove my makeup before going to sleep.
While Rachel and Sofia’s overall silhouettes were similar, their faces weren’t so alike that one could be mistaken for the other in broad daylight. That was why they’d developed a natural makeup routine that would make Sofia look like her young mistress at a glance. However, if they saw her before she even put it on, it wasn’t going to do her any good. Sofia couldn’t let them see her face directly, so she had to chase them off somehow without getting out of bed.
In an arrogant tone, the vague outline of a man on the other side of the curtains said, “What’s this, Rachel? You won’t even let us see you? You’re in an even worse mood than usual today.”
That’s your fault, you bumbling prince. I hope you go bald!
Sofia mentally cursed the prince, but there were more important things to do than laying into him verbally. She had to do something about this situation. If Elliott suspected anything was different from usual, then what was the point of leaving a body double in the first place?
“That’s quite a thing for you to say after barging into a young maiden’s bedchambers. Have you considered going bald, perhaps?”
Rachel’s voice came out of Sofia’s throat along with a heaping dose of malice and mockery. It was perfect. Sofia had been with the young mistress night and day, so she knew how to talk like Rachel when she was showing her true nature.
The silhouette half-visible through the curtains, which vaguely resembled a prince, twitched. “Wh-What? You’re awfully direct today, aren’t you?”
Based on his confusion, Sofia had apparently been a little off.
Not good. I’ll need to correct myself.
“I’m in a sour mood right now. You woke me up all of a sudden so early in the morning, and it’s left me quite on edge.”
“Morning... It’s well past noon, you know? When did you go to sleep?” Elliott questioned.
Drat.
Now he was doubting her common sense.
“If we calculate from the time I went to sleep, then this is morning.”
“You’ve finally decided you’re the center of the world, have you?”
And that had just made it worse.
What now?
The prince—supposedly—on the other side of the curtains shook his head. “Argh! That doesn’t matter right now! Rachel, how dare you trick poor, innocent Margaret when she doesn’t know anything!”
“Margaret?”
Sofia knew she’d heard the name, but in her flustered state, she couldn’t put a face to it. She’d heard it in connection with the prince recently, but who did it belong to?
Elliott had apparently heard her mumbling Margaret’s name, because his prince-like silhouette was now visibly angry.
“Why you... After what you put me and Margaret through, why does it sound like you have no idea who she is?! I’ll have you know, Margaret still hasn’t gotten out of bed after being blasted by that rotten can! Even George and I only got up yesterday! Don’t you feel any pangs of conscience, putting your own little brother and poor, frail Margaret through something so awful?!”
Something awful... A rotten can... Can...? Oh!
“Oh, Miss Punching Bag!”
“Huh?!”
“I remember now! Goodness, Your Highness, you really must call her by her proper name, or who will be able to tell who you’re talking about?”
“Huh? No. I don’t know anyone called Punching Bag...”
“It’s your own girlfriend’s name, isn’t it? You can’t go forgetting these things. This is the problem with you, Your Highness.”
“Girlfriend...? Wait, you’re talking about Margaret?! Margaret is her real name! Margaret Poisson! Who’re you calling Punching Bag?!”
Oh, that’s right. It was an inconsequential detail, so I got it wrong.
As far as Sofia was concerned, she’d been having a relaxed conversation with this piece of societal trash, but she must have said something that offended him. Now the awful prince had gotten even angrier.
“Argh! It’s one thing after another with you! Rachel, how dare you not show your face when someone is genuinely angry with you! Get out here and get on your knees!”
“Tch!”
To think the pea-brained prince would come up with a cogent argument. Still, there was no way Sofia could go out there. She needed to shut him down while also ending this conversation in a way that maintained the upper hand for her young mistress.