Hold Your Head High

(Thank goodness.)

Before stepping into the dining hall, Flory was nervous.

Yes, she knew the shadow guard had already gone back to report.

Yes, she knew that the two shadow guards following her weren’t just there to watch her but also to protect her.

Still, she couldn’t help worrying about Raine.

She wasn’t worried about herself. Even if Raine punished her, she’d deserve it—after all, she had contradicted him in public.

What worried her was Raine’s state of mind.

His reckless, overprotective behavior wasn’t like him.

After what happened with Master Fate, he’d swung from one extreme to another—into outright rejection of outsiders.

Toward the household, he’d become kinder.

To Charlton, to Morick, to her, he treated them like family.

But toward outsiders—even Stella, his so-called fiancée—he pushed them away, and the moment they slighted his people, he turned on them without hesitation.

That wasn’t a healthy mindset.

On her way back, Flory racked her brain for ways to bring him back to reason.

But when she arrived, she found the others had already done a fine job of it.

That alone made her relieved. It meant Raine’s efforts to change himself were working.

Even if she wasn’t here someday, he wouldn’t be without support.

He wouldn’t lose trust in others just because she had deceived or hurt him.

Still—it wasn’t enough.

There was more she could do.

“…So in summary, I don’t believe Your Highness should have treated Lady Yaros like that as a guest.”

She repeated the same reasoning she had used with Stella earlier.

“Mm. You’re right. I wasn’t calm.” Raine admitted easily.

“Your Highness, one more thing… We’re honored by the trust and value you place in us, but objectively speaking, you can’t expect the same of everyone.”

She looked at him steadily as she spoke.

“Yes, you could use your title as Crown Prince to force obedience. But that isn’t clever politics.

It doesn’t win genuine loyalty, and it won’t gain you more allies.”

“I know you despise hypocrisy and schemes, but such people will always exist—and in overwhelming numbers.

What we should do is use them, play their games, and take the advantages we need from them, so that our people can benefit.”

Raine knew all this already—when he was calm.

But people act differently when emotion takes over.

He had to admit, she was right.

Flory’s eyes flicked briefly toward the table. The food was untouched.

Whatever noise she had heard earlier, it hadn’t been him.

That was just like him—doing nothing, bottling everything up.

That was Raine’s habit: to hide his kindness, to hide his anger, waiting for someone to notice on their own.

Call it “stoic” if you want. Or just plain “repressed.”

And people like that were the most likely to snap into extremes.

The only fix was to slowly change those habits.

Raise the threshold of his self-control bit by bit, until he stopped defaulting to silence and escape.

That was why she repeated truths he already knew—because repetition shapes habit.

“Mm. I understand.”

Now calm, Raine knew he had much to fix, but clarity didn’t come instantly. Flory’s words, though, always went straight to the heart.

He admitted inwardly: ever since that incident, he had been too afraid of losing the people closest to him.

Afraid to open up, afraid even to ask for help.

He just passively waited for someone—anyone—to step forward on their own.

He had been lucky that someone did.

And then he’d panicked at the thought of losing her.

His possessiveness had twisted into distrust of everyone else.

He’d forgotten what he already knew about dealing with outsiders.

“You did very well,” he couldn’t help praising her.

“Thank you, Your Highness. But please, punish me.”

Flory bowed deeply. “I contradicted you in front of so many. By rights, I should be dismissed.”

“I said before, the final say on appointments is mine.” Raine frowned.

“Yes, Your Highness holds the ultimate authority. And it’s true the household shouldn’t be managed too harshly or with needless punishments.

But for the sake of your dignity and the rules’ authority, I ask that you not treat me differently.”

Her face held no sadness, no joy—just calm determination.

And in that stillness, Raine suddenly understood.

She truly didn’t care about titles or punishments. She had never sought power.

Her only priority had been to nurture initiative and strength in those around her.

The truth hit him hard: Flory had always planned to leave. She was only staying until her task was complete.

At first, maybe just to help the Blue Lion family.

But now, it was for someone else—for a pathetic, spineless man who wasn’t worth her time.

Raine’s fists clenched, then slowly loosened.

“I understand. Then you’re demoted to an ordinary maid.”

As expected, her face lit up in relief. She finally looked at ease.

But Raine wasn’t done.

“At the same time, since you managed to calm the Blue Lion heiress and salvage my relationship with her family, I’m promoting you to personal maid—and acting head maid until the post is officially filled.”

It was the exact trick that detestable old man loved to use at court: an apparent demotion masking an even greater favor.

Raine hated it. But right now, it was the best move.

The very thing Flory herself had reminded him to do—make full use of everyone, and treat his people well.

Even if Flory didn’t see herself as one of his people.

Even if the better he treated her, the easier she’d walk away when the time came.

He had to do it.

Because only by becoming better could he one day stand tall enough that she’d choose to stay.