Chapter 78 Chapter 78: The Price of a Bad Mood

Chapter 78 Chapter 78: The Price of a Bad Mood
The SUV rolled beneath the grand circular driveway of the Varya mansion before finally coming to a smooth stop beneath the covered entrance. Rain still drizzled lightly outside, silver drops reflecting against the mansion's glowing lights. Before the driver could even fully step out, Elara was already reaching for the door handle. The moment a guard opened it, she climbed out without a single word. Her heels struck the stone pavement sharply as she stormed toward the entrance, her long dark coat swaying behind her like a warning. Every servant near the doors immediately straightened. A few looked down at the floor. Others hurried out of her path completely. Nobody wanted to be the first unfortunate soul to cross Miss Elara Varya while she was in this mood. Within seconds, she disappeared inside the mansion, leaving nothing but tension in her wake.

I watched the front doors close behind her and immediately groaned under my breath. "Wonderful," I muttered. "Now everyone in the house is going to suffer tonight." Across from me, Nicholus remained comfortably seated in the SUV, completely relaxed despite the disaster he had just helped create. He leaned back against the leather seat and loosened his tie another inch. "Bit dramatic, aren't you?" he asked lazily. I turned toward him so quickly I nearly hit my head against the door. "Dramatic?" I repeated. "Mr. Nicholus, you spent the entire drive home provoking Miss Elara." His eyebrows rose. "Provoking is such an ugly word."

"Because that's exactly what you were doing," I shot back. "You kept talking about Mr. Auren not wanting the wedding. You kept pushing her. You knew she was already upset from the hospital." Nicholus sighed heavily like he was the victim in this situation. "I wasn't pushing her. I was having a conversation." I stared at him. "That was not a conversation." "Sure it was." "No." "Yes." "No." "Sera," he interrupted with a laugh, "you sound personally offended." I crossed my arms immediately. "Because now the staff has to deal with the consequences."

That finally made him blink. "What consequences?" he asked. I looked at him like he had lost his mind. "You've never worked in this house, have you?" He grinned. "Thankfully." My expression flattened. "When Miss Elara gets angry, everyone suffers." Nicholus laughed immediately. "That's a little dramatic." "No, it's not." I pointed toward the mansion. "Tonight every maid, every butler, every assistant, every poor person unfortunate enough to cross her path is going to spend the evening terrified." A pause. "Including me." His grin widened. "So you're blaming me for your future suffering?" "Absolutely."

Nicholus actually looked offended by that. "Now hold on." He pointed toward himself. "Why am I suddenly responsible for Elara's temper?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Because you're the one who spent twenty minutes pouring gasoline on an open fire." He laughed loudly. "That's ridiculous." "Is it?" I challenged. "You practically interrogated her." Nicholus rolled his eyes dramatically. "I asked questions." "Aggressive questions." "Honest questions." "Cruel questions." "Necessary questions." The argument continued back and forth until even the driver looked uncomfortable listening to us.

Then Nicholus's expression shifted slightly. Some of the amusement disappeared. "Look," he said, leaning forward. "You know what's funny? Everyone's angry at me for saying it, but nobody's angry at Auren for making it obvious." I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued before I could. "Grandfather asks about the wedding. Richmond agrees. Simon agrees. Elara practically lights up like Christmas morning." His voice lowered slightly. "And Auren leaves the room." The humor was gone now. "Tell me honestly, Sera. How exactly is that my fault?" For a moment, I didn't answer. Because unfortunately, he wasn't entirely wrong.

Still, I shook my head stubbornly. "That doesn't mean you had to say it out loud." Nicholus snorted. "Why not?" "Because she loves him." The answer came instantly. "She was happy." My voice softened slightly. "For the first time all day she looked genuinely happy." Nicholus looked toward the mansion windows. "I know." For once, he wasn't smiling. "I know she loves him." He rubbed the back of his neck before sighing. "But loving someone doesn't magically make problems disappear." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And pretending everything's perfect won't help her either."

The rain continued tapping softly against the SUV roof as silence settled between us. Finally, Nicholus pushed open his door and stepped outside. "Anyway," he announced, instantly sounding cheerful again, "I refuse to accept responsibility for Elara terrorizing household employees." I climbed out after him and glared. "You should." He laughed. "No." "Yes." "No." "Mr. Nicholus—" "Sera." He pointed toward the mansion entrance. "If Elara starts frightening staff members tonight, that's because she's Elara." He flashed a shameless grin. "Not because of me." Then he started walking toward the front doors before calling over his shoulder, "Though if she throws something at breakfast tomorrow, I'd appreciate a warning." Unfortunately, judging by Elara's mood, I had a terrible feeling that wasn't entirely impossible.

The moment I stepped out of the SUV, I knew exactly where I needed to go. Most of the staff immediately scattered back to their duties after greeting Miss Elara and watching her disappear into the mansion. Nobody wanted to linger tonight. The air itself felt tense. Heavy. Like everyone could sense her mood from the moment she crossed the front doors. I adjusted my coat and hurried through the entrance hall, passing nervous maids and butlers who were already whispering among themselves. Every person seemed to be asking the same question: How bad is her mood? Unfortunately, I already knew the answer.

Instead of heading toward the staff wing, I made my way directly toward Miss Elara's private wing of the mansion. It was part of my job to check whether she needed anything after returning home, especially after such a stressful day. The grand corridors were unusually quiet tonight. The soft glow from the chandeliers reflected against polished marble floors while my footsteps echoed through the hallways. But the closer I got to her rooms, the more nervous I became. Nicholus's words in the SUV kept replaying in my head. If Elara starts frightening staff members tonight, that's because she's Elara. At the time, I wanted to argue with him. Now I wasn't so sure.

Then I heard Elara's voice.

"What exactly were you hoping to accomplish?" she demanded from inside the sitting room.

The icy fury in her tone made every servant in the hallway visibly flinch.

I slowed my steps.

"You broke it," Elara continued, her voice dangerously calm now. Somehow that was even worse than shouting. "Accidents happen. I understand that. What I do not understand is why nobody informed me." A heavy silence followed. "Instead, all of you decided to hide it and hope I wouldn't notice?"

My stomach sank immediately.

Carefully, I stepped closer to the partially open doorway and looked inside.

Three housekeepers stood lined up near the wall with their heads lowered while Elara stood across from them in the center of the room. Her coat had already been removed, revealing an elegant black dress beneath, but there was nothing elegant about the anger radiating from her now. On the table beside her sat the remains of an antique porcelain vase. A jagged crack ran down one side, splitting the hand-painted surface almost completely in half. Even from the doorway, I could tell it had once been beautiful.

And judging by Elara's expression, very important.

One of the older housekeepers finally gathered enough courage to speak. "Miss Varya, we're very sorry. Amelia was dusting the shelf this afternoon when—"

"When she dropped it," Elara interrupted sharply.

The woman immediately fell silent.

Elara's eyes moved toward the shattered vase. For a brief moment, something painful flickered across her face before disappearing behind anger again. "This vase belonged to my great great grandmother," she said quietly. "It sat in this room for years without a single incident." Her gaze lifted back toward the staff. "And when it broke, not one person thought to report it."

The youngest maid suddenly burst into tears.

"We were afraid," she whispered.

Elara laughed once.

The sound held absolutely no humor.

"Afraid?" she repeated softly. "So your solution was to move the damaged side against the wall and pretend nothing happened?" Her eyes narrowed. "You honestly believed I wouldn't notice?" The room fell silent again. "Do you know what offends me most?" she asked. "Not the broken vase. Not even the damage." Her voice dropped lower. "It's the fact that you all assumed I was too blind, too careless, or too stupid to see what was right in front of me."

Nobody answered.

Nobody dared.

And standing in the doorway, watching the terrified staff and the fury simmering beneath Elara's perfect composure, I realized this had never really been about the vase at all.

Today she had been ignored by Auren.

Disappointed by the conversation about the wedding.

Forced to watch everyone make decisions about her future.

And now this was simply the final thing that had broken her patience. she spoke again.

“Pack your things,” Elara said coldly.

The three maids looked up at once, confusion flashing across their faces.

“Miss Varya—please,” one of them stammered. “It was an accident. We can compensate—”

“I didn’t ask for compensation,” Elara interrupted sharply, her voice cutting through the room like glass. “I asked for honesty.”

Her eyes shifted slowly across each of them, one by one.

“And none of you gave me that.”

A tense pause followed. The youngest maid was still crying silently, shoulders trembling. The older one looked like she might collapse under the pressure. But Elara’s expression didn’t soften even slightly. If anything, it became more controlled—more distant. The kind of calm that came right after emotion had already been spent.

“You’re dismissed,” she said finally.

The words landed like a final verdict.

All three froze.

“You can collect your payment from the head office tomorrow,” Elara added, turning slightly as if the conversation had already ended for her. “Security will escort you out in the morning.”

That was it.

No raised voice. No dramatic pause.

Just absolute finality.

The youngest maid let out a broken sound, like she couldn’t believe it was real. “Please… Miss Varya, we’ve worked here for years—”

Elara’s gaze flicked back to her instantly.

“That’s exactly why this is disappointing,” she said quietly.

The room went silent again.

No one argued after that.

One by one, the maids lowered their heads and stepped out, their footsteps uneven and heavy as they left the room. 

And then the room was empty.

Except for me.

I stood frozen near the doorway, unsure whether I was supposed to breathe or disappear. Elara didn’t look at me immediately. Instead, she walked slowly toward the shattered vase and stared down at it for a long moment, as if waiting for it to explain itself.

“Clean this up sera,” she said flatly.

I nodded quickly. “Yes, Miss Elara.”

She turned slightly, already reaching for a nearby drawer, pulling out a folded cloth as if she didn’t trust anyone else to handle even this much anymore. That was when her eyes finally lifted toward me.

“Also,” she added, her tone controlled again, “inform Madame Hester.”

“Yes, Miss Elara,” I replied immediately.

For a second, I hesitated, watching her as she stood beside the broken remains of something that clearly meant more than just decoration to her. Her expression was unreadable now, but the tension in her shoulders hadn’t left.

I wanted to say something.

Anything.

But with Elara, words often made things worse instead of better.

So I lowered my head and stepped forward carefully, preparing to do exactly what I was told—while behind me, Elara remained standing in the center of the room, staring at the shattered vase like it had somehow reflected everything else she was trying not to feel.