8 – Forgotten Information

Alethea stood in her new room—a space measuring five by four meters located at the back of the villa. The room was noticeably much larger compared to the one Hera had provided her at their house.

Besides the en-suite bathroom, there was also a small kitchenette where Alethea could prepare simple meals like instant noodles or coffee.

After the long journey, Helen gave Alethea some time to rest. Without bothering to unpack her modest belongings, Alethea chose to freshen up and change into more comfortable clothes before lying down on a bed that felt far more luxurious than the one at her own home.

When Alethea woke up, she felt much more refreshed. The sun had yet to rise, and according to the schedule Helen had given her, she needed to meet Helen in the kitchen, fully dressed in her uniform.

Alethea quickly freshened up. Per Helen's rules, she was allowed to use basic skincare products like facial moisturizer and body lotion, but anything with a strong scent, including perfume and makeup, was strictly prohibited. Fortunately for Alethea, she had never been able to afford such products anyway.

She thought back to the journey she had taken the day before. After saying goodbye to her grandmother—the only family member who truly cared for her—Alethea returned to Callie's place to express her gratitude for helping her secure the job.

"Please, check in on my grandmother every now and then. And if anything happens to her, contact me immediately," Alethea had asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Callie always nodded and reassured her with the same promise—that she would look after Alethea's grandmother and keep Alethea updated through Helen. At their farewell, Callie gave Alethea a tight hug.

"Take care of yourself. Adjust quickly and come back here safe and sound," Callie whispered in Alethea's embrace.

Alethea hoisted the worn backpack that had once belonged to Teon and carried it to the car, aided by a driver whose presence she hadn’t noticed earlier. As she stepped into the luxurious vehicle, the lawyer was already seated in the front passenger seat next to the driver, while Helen occupied the same row as Alethea.

The car moved forward slowly. There was only one road in and out of Alethea’s village, and as they departed, they had to pass her home, which now looked empty and abandoned. Alethea was certain her mother had already gone to the city to spend the money she had earned by selling Alethea to Helen. But instead of feeling sad, Alethea simply hoped her mother would spend the money wisely, as a year was not a short period of time.

For a while, the journey was cloaked in silence. There was no music, nor was there any conversation. The driver, Wendy, Helen, and Alethea remained quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.

There were countless questions Alethea wanted to ask about her future employer—about her duties, the employer’s preferences, and dislikes. Yet, observing Helen’s cold demeanor and her curt, almost harsh manner of speaking, Alethea hesitated. She chose instead to spend the rest of the journey in silence, gazing out the window.

"One year," a voice in her head reminded her. "Endure it for one year, Alethea. After that, go somewhere far away. Don’t go back to your parents’ house. Don’t see them again until you’ve become a successful woman with your own money. Because if you return before achieving anything, the same thing will happen again.

"Today, your mother sold you to care for a stranger. Tomorrow, if you come back poor, she might go through with her long-standing threat: marrying you off to a wealthy old man who fancies younger women as a pretense to drain his wealth."

The thought of that threat made Alethea unconsciously rub her arm for comfort.

No, that cannot happen. What Hera had always threatened her with must never come true. Alethea was still a virgin, still young—surely, she deserved a husband who was also unmarried? Or if she was destined to marry a widower, could she at least hope for one who was still young and not unpleasant to look at?

He didn’t need to be as handsome as the famous Korean stars her peers adored, nor as dashing as European actors. Just someone who wouldn’t embarrass her in public if she ever introduced him to her friends—if she ever got the chance to gather with them again.

Lost in her own sweet fantasies, Alethea finally succumbed to the sleep she had been fighting, oblivious to Helen, Wendy, or the driver, all of whom were focused on the road ahead.

“Poor girl,” Wendy murmured softly, glancing at Alethea through the rearview mirror.

Helen, who had been gazing out the window, turned toward Wendy, then followed his line of sight to Alethea. The young girl had fallen asleep, clutching her small, worn shoulder bag tightly to her chest as if it were a precious relic she couldn’t bear to lose. Her ponytail had begun to loosen, strands of hair escaping as her head shifted in sync with the car’s movements. Her left temple rested against the window, her mouth slightly open.

“I’m sure she’s a good girl,” Wendy remarked, his tone thoughtful.

“Yes, a good girl cursed with unlucky parents who are nothing but greedy,” Helen replied sharply, her voice tinged with disdain.

“I hope the young master treats her well so she can endure being with him for a long time,” Wendy said sincerely.

“Let’s hope so,” Helen replied flatly. Yet, deep in her heart, she genuinely wished that Alethea could last the entire year.

One year—it was certainly not a short time to work with the young master who...

Helen knew exactly what kind of man Tarcisio was. She was well aware of his cruelty, his penchant for harsh punishments, and his absolute disregard for excuses. When it came to dealing with subordinates, he always resorted to severe and indiscriminate actions.

And Alethea? She was like a small bird trapped in a wolf’s den. If she ever made a mistake that angered her employer, she wouldn’t just face immediate dismissal but also the consequences outlined in the document she and her mother had signed earlier—prison.

The car came to a stop at a rest area. Helen hadn’t planned to wake Alethea, but noticing the girl’s thin frame and pale face, combined with the length of the journey still ahead, she decided it was necessary.

“Get out and eat,” she said flatly before opening the door on her side and stepping out. The driver was already seated in the restaurant, sipping coffee to stay alert for the remainder of the trip.

Alethea rubbed her eyes, then reached into her bag for her phone to check the time. She was startled to realize she had been asleep for quite a while. Not wanting to annoy her new employer by keeping her waiting, Alethea quickly got out of the car, smoothing her hair with her fingers as she did so.

“Order anything you like. I’ll cover it,” Helen said, gesturing to a waiter to take their order.

Alethea nodded, her stomach growling with hunger. She hadn’t eaten properly earlier that day, her mind too distracted. Obediently, she began ordering her meal.

The meal passed with minimal conversation between them. After finishing and settling the bill, they returned to the car. Once inside, Helen reached into the square leather bag she had placed on the back seat, pulling out a leather folder and handing it to Alethea.

“Read and memorize it,” Helen instructed coolly.

Alethea immediately complied, opening the folder.

“That contains the details of your duties and the rules you must strictly follow while working with us,” Helen explained tersely.

Alethea read through the details one by one. It turned out she wouldn’t need to work a full twenty-four hours a day, as Helen had previously implied. According to the document, she would have designated sleep and rest periods—times when her employer, now identified as Mr. Sebastian Tarcisio, was either asleep or allowed her to take a break.

“Mr. Tarcisio isn’t a patient with a serious illness,” Helen explained. “He’s simply blind, so he needs someone to assist him with his needs and act as his guide.” She spoke slowly, ensuring Alethea understood. “Your duties include taking care of his clothes, meals, bed, and fulfilling any requests he makes without exception.

“If he tells you to leave, it means you must position yourself far enough away that he can’t hear your breathing but remain close enough to respond immediately when he calls. Do you understand?” she asked. Alethea nodded.

“Mr. Tarcisio is temperamental, so you need to be smart when attending to him,” Helen added.

Now, Alethea found herself preparing for her first encounter with her new employer.

She had already spent a week familiarizing herself with every corner of the villa—a space three times larger than her home. She had undergone training on how to serve properly, where to place items, and how to assist her employer during meals. There were strict rules: she wasn’t to speak unless addressed, wasn’t to offer opinions unless asked, and had to adhere to other regulations she was gradually mastering.

Alethea studied her reflection in the mirror. Her uniform was a soft, light green with short sleeves and ankle-length trousers. Her feet were clad in flat, slip-resistant loafers that made little to no sound when she moved. Following Helen’s instructions, she had neatly tied her long hair into a bun and secured it with a black hairnet.

This was it—her first day meeting the man she would serve for the next year.

No accessories were allowed. Earrings, necklaces, rings, or anklets were strictly forbidden while serving Mr. Sebastian Tarcisio. Following the rules outlined in the document Helen had given her, Alethea also refrained from wearing perfume. She was permitted only a lightly scented body lotion and sunscreen to maintain her skin's health.

“He will provide you with a fragrance he prefers, should he find it necessary,” Helen had said, and Alethea had simply nodded in response.

With steady steps, Alethea walked toward the villa’s entrance, where she would meet her employer. However, what she didn’t expect—and what Helen had neglected to inform her—was that Mr. Sebastian Tarcisio was nothing like the image she had formed in her mind.

She had assumed he would be a frail, middle-aged or elderly man in need of constant assistance. Instead, the figure approaching her was a strikingly handsome young man, tall and powerfully built, exuding a commanding presence with each confident step he took.