''Lady Dahlia.''
Stepping into the barony, Isla came in contact with a young maid, carrying a bowl of wet white bed sheets. She probably wanted to spread the washed clothes under the morning sun.
''Sophie, I told you to stop calling me lady,'' Isla released a helpless sigh with closed eyes. Her eyebrows came together, showing how much the word annoyed her.
The maid, Sophie chuckled. ''My lady, you don't know how you carry yourself. Sometimes, I get an image of you being a high-ranking noble.''
Her gaze then traveled to the basket on Isla's forearm. ''Let me help you with that, my lady.''
She was about to drop the wooden bowl, but Isla quickly dashed forward to avoid the latter's help. ''Stop treating me like I am something delicate, Sophie.''
