The House of Liwia
Chapter 6 — Part VI
Tiffany swallowed.
Then finally stepped forward.
The soft carpet muted her heels.
The woman remained facing the city.
The champagne flute still resting lightly in her hand.
Waiting.
Tiffany carefully accepted the glass.
For the briefest moment their fingers nearly touched.
The woman didn’t react.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even glance in her direction.
That somehow made Tiffany even more nervous.
She turned toward the drinks trolley.
The crystal bottles glittered beneath the afternoon light.
Her hands felt strangely clumsy.
As though she had forgotten how champagne worked.
As though she had forgotten how anything worked.
She filled the flute.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Then took a breath and returned.
The woman remained exactly where she had been.
Still watching the city.
Still silent.
Tiffany offered the glass back.
The woman accepted it.
Effortlessly.
Without looking.
Without acknowledging her.
For a few seconds nothing happened.
Tiffany stepped back.
Unsure whether she should leave.
Stay.
Speak.
Wait.
The silence stretched.
The woman lifted the flute.
Took a small sip.
Then slowly began to turn.
Tiffany noticed the movement immediately.
Her pulse jumped.
Instinctively her gaze dropped toward the floor.
She didn’t even realise she was doing it.
The sudden attention felt overwhelming.
The beautiful stranger.
The impossible room.
The first client.
The entire day.
Everything seemed to crash together at once.
So she stared at the marble floor instead.
Heart hammering.
Waiting.
The woman said nothing at first.
Tiffany could feel herself being observed.
Studied.
Measured.
Then came a soft sound.
A smile.
Almost a laugh.
Warm.
Affectionate.
Proud.
And somehow achingly familiar.
When the woman finally spoke, her voice was honey-sweet.
“There she is.”
A pause.
“My little Tiffany.”
The world stopped.
Tiffany’s head snapped upward.
Her eyes widened.
No.
Impossible.
“Li… Liwia?”
Her voice cracked halfway through the name.
For the first time the woman smiled openly.
And behind them Elizabeth immediately corrected her in the calm, professional tone she used for everything.
“Lady Liwia.”
Silence.
Then a quiet laugh escaped Liwia.
She lifted her champagne flute slightly.
Never taking her eyes off Tiffany.
“Oh, Elizabeth…”
Her smile only widened.
“I think she knows who I am.”
Silence settled over the room.
For a brief moment, Tiffany simply stared.
Everything that had happened throughout the day suddenly rearranged itself inside her mind.
The teasing.
The confidence.
The impossible timing.
It had been Lady Liwia all along.
Liwia let the realization linger for another second before speaking again.
“Elizabeth.”
“Yes, Lady Liwia.”
“I’d like a few minutes alone with Tiffany.”
Elizabeth nodded without the slightest hint of surprise.
“Of course.”
She turned toward the door.
Just before stepping outside, Liwia spoke once more.
“I still need a little more time.”
Elizabeth paused.
“I haven’t decided yet whether Tiffany is the one I want.”
The words landed like a stone.
Tiffany’s brief relief vanished instantly.
She… hasn’t decided.
Elizabeth offered a polite nod.
“Very well, Lady Liwia.”
The door closed softly behind her.
The lounge became almost impossibly quiet.
Only the distant city beyond the windows remained.
For the first time all day…
they were completely alone.
Tiffany instinctively straightened her posture.
Her hands folded neatly in front of her apron.
She wasn’t even sure where to look anymore.
Liwia slowly circled the marble coffee table.
Never rushing.
Never breaking eye contact.
She stopped only a few steps away.
“So…”
A faint smile touched the corner of her lips.
“Impress me.”
Tiffany blinked.
“Lady…?”
“You want me to choose you.”
It wasn’t a question.
Tiffany swallowed.
“Yes, Lady Liwia.”
“Then don’t tell me why.”
A short pause.
“Show me.”
Another heartbeat passed.
Then something changed.
Tiffany stopped trying to guess the correct answer.
Instead…
she imagined what life beside Lady Liwia might actually look like.
She took a small step toward the seating area and, with a graceful gesture of her hand, indicated the sofa.
“Lady Liwia…”
Her voice remained soft.
“Please… have a seat.”
Liwia watched her for a moment.
Then, without a word, she accepted the invitation.
She sat with effortless elegance, crossing one leg over the other before placing her champagne flute gently onto the marble table.
She said nothing.
She simply watched.
Tiffany took a slow breath.
“If I had the privilege of working for you…”
She smiled nervously.
“I think my days would begin by making sure everything was ready before you ever needed to think about it.”
As she spoke, she lightly brushed her fingertips across the polished marble surface.
There wasn’t a trace of dust.
Still…
she wiped away imaginary specks with careful precision.
“Not because it isn’t already beautiful…”
She smiled shyly.
“But because I would want everything to feel perfect when you walked into the room.”
She moved to the flowers.
One pale rose leaned ever so slightly.
She adjusted it.
Turned the vase by a fraction.
“There should always be fresh flowers.”
Another glance toward Liwia.
Brief.
Instinctive.
Not to seek approval.
Simply to see whether she was comfortable.
Whether her glass needed refilling.
Whether she wanted anything at all.
Liwia noticed.
She didn’t interrupt.
Tiffany continued.
“If you were expecting guests…”
She aligned two coffee-table books that were already perfectly straight.
“I’d make sure everything was prepared before they arrived.”
“If you were leaving…”
A nervous smile.
“Your belongings would already be waiting by the door.”
“You wouldn’t have to think about the small things.”
She paused.
Then looked around the room as though imagining an ordinary afternoon.
“I think…”
She hesitated.
“…I’d spend most of my day quietly paying attention.”
Another glance toward Liwia.
“Whether your glass is empty.”
“Whether the room is too warm.”
“Whether you’ve been interrupted too many times.”
“Whether you simply need a moment of peace.”
She looked down again.
“I don’t think my job would be to be noticed.”
A quiet smile.
“I think it would be to make your day just… a little easier.”
Silence.
Long enough for Tiffany to wonder whether she had misunderstood the assignment entirely.
Then…
Without saying a single word…
Lady Liwia rose.
Tiffany reacted before she had time to think.
The champagne-colored fur stole was still resting across the back of the sofa.
She picked it up immediately.
With careful, practiced gentleness, she stepped behind Liwia and lifted it over her shoulders, smoothing it into place with both hands.
Only after the stole sat perfectly did Tiffany step back again.
Hands neatly folded.
Eyes lowered.
Waiting.
Not for praise.
But for whatever came next.
For several long moments, Lady Liwia said nothing.
She remained exactly where she was, her fingertips resting lightly against the soft fur draped over her shoulders, while her eyes wandered slowly across the lounge. She took in the carefully arranged flowers, the polished marble table, the untouched champagne glass, and finally the young woman standing quietly a few steps away.
Tiffany hadn’t moved since helping the stole back onto Lady Liwia’s shoulders.
Her hands were folded neatly in front of her apron, her posture straight despite the high heels, her eyes respectfully lowered toward the floor. She had said everything she felt she could say. Now there was nothing left to explain, nothing left to demonstrate.
Only to wait.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Liwia’s lips.
It wasn’t large enough to reveal what she was thinking.
It merely suggested that she was thinking.
At last, she broke the silence.
“Come with me.”
That was all.
No praise.
No criticism.
No indication whatsoever of whether Tiffany had impressed her.
Liwia turned gracefully toward the door and began walking without another glance behind her.
Tiffany reacted almost instinctively. She stepped aside to allow Lady Liwia to pass first before quietly falling into place a few respectful steps behind her, matching Liwia’s pace without ever attempting to walk beside her.
The heavy door closed behind them with a muted click.
Outside, the familiar marble corridor stretched ahead, bathed in warm afternoon light that spilled through the tall windows of the Pink Maid Atelier. The building seemed almost impossibly quiet, as though the entire floor understood that something important was taking place.
Neither of them spoke.
The confidence Tiffany had found while imagining her future beside Lady Liwia slowly gave way to uncertainty again. Every step of her heels against the polished floor seemed louder than the last, echoing through the silence and reminding her that none of this meant she had succeeded.
Lady Liwia had listened.
Lady Liwia had watched.
But Lady Liwia had not chosen.
Not yet.
Without realizing it, Tiffany found herself searching for clues in the woman walking ahead of her. Perhaps a slower step. A smile. A relaxed shoulder. Anything that might reveal what she was thinking.
There was nothing.
Lady Liwia’s posture remained as poised and elegant as ever, every movement calm, measured and impossible to read. She gave away nothing, leaving Tiffany alone with her own thoughts.
After what felt far longer than the short walk actually lasted, Liwia stopped in front of a familiar office.
She rested one hand on the polished brass handle for the briefest moment before opening the door herself.
Elizabeth was already waiting.
She stood beside her desk with a tablet resting lightly in one hand, looking every bit as composed as she had throughout the day. The moment Lady Liwia entered, she offered a polite nod.
“Lady Liwia.”
Only then did her eyes briefly move toward Tiffany.
She immediately noticed the difference.
The eager young trainee who had spent the afternoon asking questions and trying to prove herself had become noticeably quieter. Tiffany entered the office almost silently, stopping a respectful distance behind Lady Liwia with her hands once again folded neatly before her.
She didn’t attempt to speak.
She didn’t try to explain herself.
For the first time since arriving at the Pink Maid Atelier that morning, she understood that there was nothing left she could influence.
Whatever happened next…
would no longer depend on her.
It would depend entirely on Lady Liwia.
And somehow…
that realization made the room feel quieter than ever before.
