"What would you like for lunch, Young Master and Young Madam?" Butler Alfred asked politely, standing with his hands neatly folded in front of him.
Marcus didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his head slightly and gave Sophia a soft look, silently inviting her to decide.
Catching his gaze, Sophia smiled lightly.
"Anything is fine, Uncle Alfred," she said, addressing the butler with the same casual respect Marcus did. "I'm not picky."
"You heard the Young Madam," Alfred said, chuckling. Then he turned to the waiting maids, his tone crisp but not harsh.
"Go and prepare lunch. Quickly."
"Yes, Uncle Alfred!" the maids replied in unison, bowing slightly before hurrying toward the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Marcus gently guided Sophia toward the grand staircase, and together they headed upstairs, leaving the staff to their tasks.
In the spacious kitchen, three maids gathered near the marble countertop, tying their aprons and readying ingredients.
The oldest maid, Amanda — a woman in her early forties with a firm but kind demeanor — was already rinsing vegetables at the sink.
The two younger maids, Sarah and Clara, bustled around her eagerly, occasionally sneaking glances toward the staircase.
"Aunty Amanda," Sarah whispered, unable to hide her excitement, "did you see how beautiful the Young Madam is?"
"She's like a fairy," Clara added dreamily, clutching the bowl of rice she was supposed to rinse.
Amanda smiled without turning from her work.
"I saw, I saw. She's indeed beautiful. But enough chatter now — there's work to be done."
"But it's hard not to be excited!" Sarah said, grinning. "Young Master's always been so serious, always working, never even smiling! And now..." she pressed her hands to her cheeks dramatically, "he has a wife! And she's not just beautiful — she's humble too!"
Clara nodded eagerly. "She even called Uncle Alfred 'Uncle' just like the Young Master does. And she spoke to us so kindly! I thought someone marrying into a rich family would be arrogant, but she's not at all!"
Amanda finally set down the vegetables and wiped her hands, turning to face them seriously but gently.
"Exactly why you must be even more respectful," she said. "The Young Madam deserves our highest respect — not just because of her position, but because of her heart. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Aunty Amanda!" Sarah and Clara answered together, standing up straighter.
Amanda chuckled softly, shaking her head at their enthusiasm.
"Good. Now, let's not embarrass ourselves on her first day. Work smartly and quickly."
"Yes, ma'am!" they chirped, returning to their tasks with renewed energy.
As they chopped, rinsed, and cooked, a light, cheerful atmosphere filled the kitchen — a sense of hope, as if the entire house was stepping into a new chapter along with their Young Madam.
---
Marcus and Sophia came to a stop outside the master bedroom.
Marcus pushed the door open and walked in first, with Sophia following close behind.
The room was vast and luxurious.
Polished marble floors gleamed underfoot, and the walls were painted a soft cream, adorned with a few tasteful paintings.
The centerpiece was a massive king-sized bed with crisp white sheets and a thick, elegant quilt.
There was a full seating area with a large, plush sofa and a low glass coffee table.
On one wall, a fireplace was neatly built in, and across from the bed, a huge flat-screen TV was mounted.
Warm light spilled from small chandeliers and sleek wall sconces, making the space feel grand yet cozy.
At the far end, double doors led to a spacious walk-in wardrobe, while another door opened into a private bathroom.
The wardrobe door stood slightly ajar, revealing neat rows of Marcus's suits and shoes — and clearly, space had been left empty, waiting for Sophia's belongings.
Marcus and Sophia made their way to the sofa and sat down side by side.
"This will be our room from now on," Marcus said, glancing at her.
Sophia lowered her gaze shyly, her heart stirring at the way he said our room.
It sounded so natural, so right — and yet still felt almost too good to be true.
She wasn't just a tolerated guest anymore. She was truly starting a new life here.
"Thank you, Marcus," she said softly.
"You don't need to thank me," Marcus replied, his voice gentle. "This is your home now."
Sophia smiled faintly, feeling hope — a feeling she hadn't known in a long time — begin to bloom in her heart.
After a moment of quiet, Marcus spoke again.
"You said before... you stayed at your home even though they treated you badly, because they let you attend a good school. Then you went to college and finished your BBA," he said thoughtfully.
"I suppose you don't want to be just a housewife. If you'd like, you can work at my company."
Sophia turned to him, stunned by his easy sincerity.
She hadn't expected him to offer her a job — and not with such genuine care.
"Thank you for the offer, Marcus," she said warmly, hesitating a little. "But... could I ask for something else instead?"
Marcus shifted, giving her his full attention.
"Anything," he said. "Just tell me."
Sophia hesitated, then found her courage.
"I... I want to pursue my MBA."
"You want to continue studying?" Marcus asked, surprised but clearly supportive.
Sophia nodded firmly.
"Yes. I've always wanted to. But it was never convenient. I knew they wouldn't have supported me, so I gave up."
Marcus didn't even think twice.
"Of course," he said immediately. "I'll find a prestigious university for you. You can start whenever you're ready."
Sophia blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by emotion.
"Thank you so much, Marcus," she whispered. "Since last night, you've shown me nothing but kindness. I honestly don't know how to thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," Marcus said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
"You deserve so much more."
Sophia lowered her gaze, her heart full of emotions she hadn't let herself feel in years — hope, gratitude, and a budding happiness she didn't dare to fully believe yet.
But sitting here, beside him, she started to think that maybe, just maybe, she could.
-----
Marcus and Sophia continued to sit together on the sofa, their conversation easy and comfortable.
They spoke about her plans for her MBA and how tomorrow they would go together to register their marriage.
Every now and then, Sophia would glance at Marcus, still a little shy but clearly more at ease than before.
A soft knock interrupted them.
"Young Master, Young Madam, lunch is ready," Butler Alfred's voice came politely from outside the door.
Marcus stood and offered his hand.
"Let's go," he said warmly.
Sophia placed her hand in his, and they made their way downstairs together.
In the dining room, the table was already set beautifully.
The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, making Sophia's stomach flutter in anticipation.
There were several dishes arranged neatly: roasted chicken with golden skin glistening under the light, buttery mashed potatoes sprinkled with herbs, a vibrant green salad dressed lightly in vinaigrette, sautéed asparagus, a warm bowl of mushroom soup, and a basket of crusty homemade bread. Everything looked both simple and luxurious at the same time.
Butler Alfred and the three maids — Amanda, Sarah, and Clara — stood respectfully by the side, their faces calm but welcoming.
"Please enjoy your meal, Young Master, Young Madam," Butler Alfred said with a bow.
Marcus pulled out a chair for Sophia first, then took his seat beside her.
The maids moved efficiently, pouring water and adjusting the plates with practiced grace before stepping back to stand silently at the ready.
Sophia picked up her spoon and tasted the soup first.
Immediately, a delicate, earthy richness spread across her tongue.
Curious, she set her spoon down gently and looked toward the maids.
"Did you add a little truffle oil to the soup?" she asked with a small, thoughtful smile.
The maids blinked, clearly surprised.
Amanda, the oldest and most composed, stepped forward slightly.
"Yes, Young Madam," she said, sounding impressed. "Just a very small amount."
Sophia smiled warmly.
"It's wonderful. You balanced the flavors really well."
Sarah and Clara looked at each other in amazement.
It wasn't easy to detect such a subtle addition unless you were familiar with cooking yourself.
"Young Madam, do you know how to cook?" Clara finally blurted out, unable to hide her curiosity.
Sophia gave a soft laugh.
"Yes, a little," she said. "I used to cook often at home."
What she didn't say — but Marcus already knew — was that she hadn't been treated like a proper daughter in her family.
She had lived almost like a servant, doing the cooking, the cleaning, even tending to the small garden.
She could drive too — though she had never been allowed to get a license.
Sophia had quietly learned to do so many things over the years, skills born not from luxury, but from necessity.
The maids looked at her with growing admiration, their respect deepening beyond just her title.
Marcus, watching the exchange, felt a warmth spread in his chest.
He glanced at Butler Alfred, who gave him a small, knowing smile.
Sophia wasn't trying to impress anyone — she was simply being herself.
And already, the staff loved her for it.
Lunch continued in a pleasant, light-hearted atmosphere.
Sophia asked the maids a few more gentle questions about the cooking methods, and they answered eagerly, grateful for her genuine interest.
Just as Marcus was reaching for a slice of bread, his phone vibrated sharply on the table.
He glanced at the screen — and his relaxed expression changed in an instant, becoming serious.
He picked up the call, his voice steady but clipped.
"Yes?"
A pause.
"Alright. I'll come right now."
Sophia looked up at him, concerned, as Marcus ended the call.
He stood, his movements swift but controlled.
"I have to step out for a bit," he said, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Something urgent came up at work."
Sophia nodded quietly, understanding without needing to be told more.
Butler Alfred immediately stepped forward, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
Marcus leaned closer to Sophia for a brief moment.
"I'll be back soon. Finish your lunch, alright?"
And with that, he straightened, gave a polite nod to Butler Alfred, and left the dining room, his steps firm and purposeful.
Sophia watched him go, a quiet sense of unease curling in her chest — but she pushed it aside.
Whatever it was, she trusted Marcus to handle it.
She turned back to her meal, determined not to worry.