"Your cheek must be hurting, right? Your bruise hasn't healed yet, and now you're getting slapped by your mother-in-law," Race said as he gently applied a cold compress to Ivy's cheek.

In reality, Ivy could quickly use her magic to heal the mark from her mother-in-law's slap. However, she couldn't do it right now, fearing that her mother-in-law might become suspicious if the slap mark disappeared too soon.

"It's alright, I can apply the compress myself, Race."
Ivy stopped Race's hand from placing the ice bag on her cheek again.

Race looked at Ivy and then lowered his hand. He could see that his wife was feeling sad. Race let out a deep sigh and then lifted Ivy's chin to look at her face.
"What's bothering you?"

"Why do you ask, Race?"

"Sigh... why are you even asking? Your face can't hide anything, Iv. Are you thinking about what your mother said?"

Ivy didn't answer Race's question; she lowered her head again, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips.
"What if your mother finds out that I'm a witch, Race? Your parents won't let us be together."

Ivy's voice sounded so sorrowful, even though just yesterday morning, Race had seen Ivy's face radiating with happiness. The girl in front of Race hadn't lost her smile all day. Seeing Ivy this sad, Race couldn't help but feel the pain in his heart. He took a deep breath and then pulled Ivy into a warm embrace.

"Don't dwell on what my mother said. Even if they eventually find out who you really are, I will still fight for you, Iv. I won't leave you."

With her arms around Race's waist, Ivy nodded her head slowly. She nodded in agreement with Race's words; she was on the verge of tears. Ivy didn't even know why she was so emotional whenever she was with Race.

"Don't cry! I can't bear to see you cry, at least."
"You think so?" Ivy asked, releasing herself from Race's embrace and looking at her husband with disbelief.

"Yes."

"Is that true? Why is that so? And since when? Why haven't I noticed you like this before?"
Ivy asked a series of questions, causing Race to laugh. He pinched Ivy's cheeks playfully because of his fondness for her.

"Are you asking or interrogating? Why are you so amusing," Race teased. He embraced Ivy again while the petite girl chuckled lightly and wrapped her arms around Race's waist. They held each other in a tight hug and remained silent for a while.

"Then, how could my mother know about the healing witch?" Ivy blurted out, suddenly thinking about it.

Race was also a bit puzzled and intrigued. Only those who knew about Ivy's condition were him, Winter, the servants here, the healthcare professional, and Miranda. So, who could have told his mother about the healing witch?

"Could it be Gareta?" Race guessed.

Ivy released herself from Race's embrace and shook her head quickly in disagreement.
"Gareta couldn't be the one."

"Then, who else? Winter and I are even more unlikely."

Ivy remained silent, appearing to be deep in thought. She then looked back at Race.
"Could it be Miranda who told her?" Ivy asked, sounding uncertain.

As Ivy suspected, Race's expression changed immediately, and he slightly distanced himself from Ivy.
"Why is your thinking so narrow? She couldn't possibly have said anything to my mother. Especially something about you, Iv. She's not even here, so it's even more unlikely that she's the one who reported to my mother."
Race sounded angry due to Ivy's words. Hearing that, Ivy gazed at Race and let out a deep sigh. Even though she knew Race would respond like this, she still felt disappointed to hear that he was defending Miranda and even placing so much trust in his servant.

"Fine, if you don't agree with me, there's no need to react like that. Now, get out, Race! I want to rest; it's late at night, and I need to gather my energy to recover quickly."

"Are you kicking me out?"
Race looked incredulous upon hearing Ivy's words.

Ivy stood up from her seat and nodded slowly.
"I need to change my clothes first," Ivy explained as she excused herself.

Race couldn't believe what Ivy was saying; he was confused about why her attitude suddenly shifted.
"Did I say something wrong?" Race muttered to himself.

Ivy's attempt to shoo Race out of her room had failed. Instead, Ivy found herself sharing the same bed with Race now. She glanced briefly at the already sleeping Race. Ivy couldn't believe she was now sharing a bed with her husband without Race being drunk first.

"Can I believe that we can have a husband-wife relationship like other people, Race?" Ivy whispered.

"You don't even believe in me, Race. So how can we continue to sustain this forced relationship?" Ivy said again.

Ivy let out a heavy sigh and then shifted her position, intending to turn her back to Race. But before Ivy could completely turn away, Race suddenly pulled her body forcibly, and now the handsome man was holding Ivy tightly in his arms.

"Sleep! Your condition hasn't fully improved yet," Race said in a hoarse voice.

"Race, why aren't you asleep yet?" Ivy asked in surprise.

Race waited to answer. He slowly opened his eyes now, staring intently at Ivy, and they locked gazes with each other.
"I'm sorry, Iv, if I came across as not believing in you, but I can't suspect Miranda. She's not the person you think she is," Race said softly.

Ivy let out a heavy sigh upon hearing Race's words.
"You've never even suspected that girl, have you, Race? Who is Miranda to you, really? She's so important to you that you trust her so much."
Ivy's voice was filled with disappointment towards Race now.
***
Miranda had just finished cleaning Race's pavilion; she was the only female servant in Race's bungalow pavilion. She entered Race's room to clean it, but someone suddenly stopped her hand, preventing her from turning the doorknob, and instead, she looked at the source of the hand.

"Ivy?"

"Are you addressing your master's wife by just her name? Wow, you're quite bold," Ivy's voice carried a hint of displeasure towards Miranda's attitude.

On the other hand, Miranda sighed in annoyance at Ivy's words.
"Why are you here? This isn't your pavilion," Miranda replied sarcastically.

"You surely haven't forgotten that this bungalow pavilion belongs to my husband," Ivy retorted, her tone equally dripping with sarcasm.

Miranda chuckled mockingly in response to Ivy's words. She briefly turned her face away before fixing an intense gaze on Ivy.
"Have you forgotten that your marriage is merely an arranged one? Race won't like a woman of low standing like you, Iv. I'm sure you haven't forgotten that you're just an adopted child of the Marionet family."

Ivy let out a small laugh and nodded her head slowly.
"Then what's the difference with you, Miranda? You're just a servant here. In fact, my position is higher than yours, Miranda."

Miranda appeared to be furious upon hearing Ivy's words. She glared sharply at Ivy and then slapped her across the face.
"How dare you speak to me like that? If it weren't for Wilingga's suicide, my position would be even higher than yours. Don't get arrogant just because you're Race's wife; he doesn't love you and will only use you, Ivy!"

"I actually don't mind being used by my husband, rather than just cleaning pavilions and getting paid monthly. Won't my life be more comfortable than yours, Miranda?"

"You!"
Miranda raised her hand again, about to slap Ivy once more, but Ivy quickly grabbed Miranda's hand.

"From now on, I won't remain silent, Miranda. Sooner or later, Race will know who you truly are. I don't know what I've done to you to make you hate me so much, but rest assured! I won't bother trying to make you like me either. However, there's one thing you need to remember: don't meddle in my relationship with Race. Or you'll see for yourself what I can do," Ivy threatened with emphasis and determination.

"What can you do, Iv?"
The question successfully made Ivy and Miranda both look toward the source of the voice. Both of them appeared surprised and equally panicked now.
***