Chapter 2: Pride Issues
The day following her arrival turned into pure torment for Veronika. Forced labor—cooking, cleaning, and bowing to orders—clashed brutally with her lineage and explosive temperament. From early in the morning, resentment consumed her.
—This is fucking bullshit —she grumbled while sweeping the floor, her brows furrowed in sheer anger.
A few steps away, Luna and a couple of others watched her with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. When one of them let out a quiet laugh, Veronika froze.
—What's so funny? Do you enjoy watching me humiliate myself?
—You bring it on yourself —Luna replied, just walking in, not even bothering to lower her voice—. You refuse to accept simple things.
—Simple? —Veronika growled, gripping the broom—. This isn't "simple." It's humiliating. It's not worthy of a Kensington.
—Exactly. It doesn't matter where you come from here —Luna added—. Right now, you're just one of us.
Veronika felt like that sentence punched the air out of her lungs. It was the first time someone had told her, so directly, that her pedigree didn't matter. A stab of rage shot through her chest, but she chose not to reply. Jaw clenched, she placed the broom on one of the chairs and walked away.
—I need to figure out how to get the hell out of here —she told herself, heading up to her room with firm steps—. I'm not going to stay here scrubbing floors forever.
An Uncomfortable Plan
The afternoon passed in a tug-of-war of commands and backtalk with Anna and the others. In a burst of pride, Veronika refused to help in the kitchen, wandering the halls aimlessly until Anna summoned her again.
—Veronika, come to the kitchen. You need to help with dinner.—Help? —the redhead scoffed—. Isn't scrubbing floors enough for you?—You'll cook and serve. —Anna crossed her arms—. Or are you refusing to work again?
Luna, in the back chopping vegetables, turned around with a sigh.
—Why are you so annoying? At least cut the veggies. It's not rocket science.
Veronika couldn't contain the fury crawling up her chest.
—I'm not doing it! This is beneath me, got it? I have houses bigger than this place and I wasn't born to be some damn maid.
—Do you seriously think anyone here cares? —Luna retorted—. You're rude, and I don't know how everyone puts up with your tantrums. Come on, grab that knife.
Veronika looked at the knife and felt disgusted at the mere idea of handling meat or dirt-covered vegetables. She refused, pulling her hand away in revulsion.
—No —she snarled—. I won't do it!
—You're acting like a kindergartener —Luna muttered—. It's just a piece of meat, not the end of the world.
Veronika's eyes blazed with fury. Before anyone could react, she grabbed a stack of plates and slammed them to the floor. The crash echoed through the kitchen, shards scattering everywhere.
—You can't force me to do this! —she screamed, face flushed—. I'm only here because of my father, not by choice!
A charged silence fell over the room. Anna stepped closer, cautiously, her eyes locked on the broken dishes.
—Your tantrums won't change a thing, Veronika. The Master doesn't tolerate anyone who disrupts the order of this house.—Who the hell do you think you are, threatening me? —Veronika spat.—I'm the one in charge of discipline —Anna replied, completely unfazed—. And, unfortunately for you, that gives me the authority to put you in your place.—You're a bitch!
At the direct insult, Luna—still watching—stepped in:
—Veronika, just calm down. At least stop acting like a raving lunatic.
Those words lit the fuse. Veronika picked up another plate and hurled it at Luna. It shattered against her arm, the impact causing a superficial cut, just enough to stain her uniform with blood.
—You're insane! —Luna exclaimed, staring at the wound.
Veronika let out a tense, almost deranged laugh.
—Does it hurt? Huh? Didn't you say cutting meat wasn't the end of the world? Guess plates are.
A Shout of Authority
Anna, her patience worn thin, raised her voice with restrained fury:
—This is unacceptable! You're going to learn this house's order right now!
She signaled to the other girls to restrain Veronika. Two grabbed her by the arms, and another moved in to gag her.
—I hate doing this —one of them muttered—, but you're asking for it.
—Get your filthy hands off me! —Veronika thrashed wildly—. Don't touch me!
At that moment, firm footsteps echoed in the hallway—and at the kitchen threshold appeared the Master. At his side was a woman in a pearl-gray suit: his secretary, carrying a folder and a small notepad. Both radiated a calm that sharply contrasted with the chaos of broken plates.
—What's going on here? —he asked softly.
Silence dropped instantly. The maids loosened their grip and bowed their heads. Anna stepped back, avoiding the shards on the floor.
—Welcome, Master —she said with unusual deference—. I regret the chaos, but… a situation arose with Miss Veronika.
—A situation? —he repeated, still courteous—. Anna, be specific.
The secretary opened the folder, ready to take notes, but looked up as Luna, her arm bleeding, spoke:
—Sir, the new girl lost it, threw plates, and injured me.
The Master raised a calm hand.—Enough. I didn't ask for your testimony. Anna, continue.
Anna pointed at Veronika, still struggling.
—She refuses to cooperate and turned violent.
The Master gave a faint smile.—Kensington… I didn't expect you to be in trouble so soon. —He glanced at Luna's wound—. Untie her.
—But, Master… —Anna began to protest.
—I said untie her —he repeated, without raising his voice—. I trust your judgment; let me handle this part.
The maids let go of Veronika. Freed, she exploded:
—What the hell is wrong with you people!? You think you have the right to touch me!?
The Master inhaled deeply, then turned to his secretary.—Note this down: "Minor kitchen damages. Employee injured, superficial cut." —She nodded silently and wrote.
—Everyone return to your tasks —he told the maids—. Anna, take Luna to get treated.
Anna obeyed; the secretary stepped aside to let them pass, still clutching the folder to her chest. Once the kitchen was empty, the Master addressed Veronika again with the same calm tone:
—Are you done? Because if you're done throwing plates, we could have a civil conversation…
—I… —The redhead felt a sting of shame—. They provoked me. I'm not their toy, or their slave.
—No one's calling you a slave, Miss Kensington —the Master replied—. But your father and I had an agreement: staying here meant accepting certain rules.
She looked at him with a hint of contempt.
—Don't talk to me about those "rules." It's obvious you intend to treat me like garbage.
—You're mistaken. —His tone remained polite, with no trace of aggression—. Come with me outside, please. I don't like disorder.
He took her arm—not roughly, but firmly—and led her out of the kitchen. Veronika felt the hallway breeze on her face and was surprised at how calm the atmosphere was outside the chaos she'd just caused.
—What the hell do you want? —she snapped.
—For starters, for you to calm down. —The Master tilted his head—. Veronika, I understand this isn't what you expected, but I suggest you avoid further… outbursts.—You think I care? —she murmured, still frowning.
He let out a brief, humorless chuckle.
—Maybe not right now. But I know you don't want to make enemies of those who could help you—or disappoint your family.
Veronika swallowed hard. She hated to admit it, but her father clearly had something to do with this cursed arrangement.
—Then just do your tasks without causing more disasters. Tomorrow at eight sharp, come to my office. We'll discuss your situation and see how I can adapt you to a more… reasonable plan.
—My situation? —she repeated with sarcasm—. What, you got an education plan for me?
—Call it whatever you like —he replied with polite amusement—. I'm not your enemy, Veronika. But I won't tolerate you injuring my staff or destroying my property.
She said nothing, seething and yet slightly intimidated by the Master's serenity. She didn't hear sadism in his voice, but there was an unshakable conviction there, like everything was already calculated. She finally nodded silently, lips pressed in frustration.
—Excellent. —The Master released her arm—. Get back to your duties, and try not to cause more incidents. It'll be better for everyone.
With that final remark, he walked down the hallway, leaving Veronika in a storm of bottled-up rage. In her mind, she kept replaying Luna's wounded expression and Anna ordering the others to restrain her. Her hands trembled from helplessness.
—I… I'm sorry —she whispered only to herself, a knot of confusion tightening in her throat—. But I won't give in to this humiliation.
Before returning to his office, the Master turned to his secretary and spoke in a low voice:
—Make a note that there will be no punishment this time. And prepare an updated summary of the rebel movements and contingency files. I'll review them soon.
—Yes, sir —she replied, bowing with the folder against her chest.
That day ended with Veronika trying to reassemble her shattered arrogance, while the others cleaned up the kitchen mess. She didn't eat a single bite that night, stubborn in her refusal to accept even a hint of pity. She forced herself to believe that if she just stayed strong, she'd eventually find a way out of that place—without ever bowing.