Chapter 322

Vivian's pulse raced, but she maintained her composure. "Really? I don't see any difference. It's the same design, just different fabric."

"Same design, different fabric?" The maid ran her fingers over Vivian's sleeve and sneered. "This is genuine silk. No servant's uniform would ever be made from something this expensive!"

Sharp eyes. Even a Baldwin household maid is this perceptive. Vivian was impressed but unfazed.

She straightened her shoulders. "Perhaps it's an improvement. The Baldwins are one of the most influential families in the world—it makes sense they'd want their staff dressed well. Are you questioning their judgment?"

"No! That's not what I meant!" The maid paled. "The Baldwin family is beyond reproach. I'm simply being thorough."

"Should we ask Lady Eleanor to confirm whether she authorized this?"

"No need!" The maid wouldn't dare disturb the matriarch over something so trivial. She waved dismissively. "Enough chatter. Let's go."

They walked through the dim estate grounds until reaching a secluded courtyard. Hidden behind dense trees stood a weathered hut, its door marked with a sign: Confession Chamber.

"Your orders are simple—guard this place with your life. No matter what she says or does, don't open that door. Don't give her anything. Wait for further instructions," the maid commanded.

"She's in there?" Vivian eyed the crude structure skeptically. She'd expected something more imposing for a punishment chamber.

"What, were you hoping for a dungeon?" The maid smirked. "Lord Alfred says the worst punishment isn't physical—it's isolation. Locked in there, she'll lose all sense of time and connection to the world. Eventually, she'll beg for death."

"That makes sense, but how exactly does it work?"

"The walls are soundproof. No light, no sound—just four white walls and air. Half an hour in there feels like eternity. Three days? She'll be shattered."

A chill ran down Vivian's spine. That's horrifying.

She imagined the suffocating silence, the crushing weight of solitude.

Margaret is impatient and hot-tempered. She won't last three hours. Vivian clenched her fists. She had to act fast.

"Remember—betray the Baldwins, and you'll be next," the maid warned.

"Of course. My loyalty is absolute," Vivian lied smoothly, urging the maid to leave.

The moment the maid disappeared, Vivian rushed to the hut. Time was running out.