MY BROTHER'S WIFE

CHAPTER THREE

SOPHIA’S POV

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the unfamiliar ceiling above me. For a brief moment, I simply stared at it, confused, wondering how I had ended up in a room I had never seen before. Then I felt the weight pressing against my body. Looking down, I found myself still wearing my wedding gown, the layers of fabric spread across the bed around me. My brows furrowed in confusion as I sat upright. "What's going on?" I murmured to myself. "Why am I wearing a wedding dress this early in the morning? And where am I? Am I... dreaming?" The questions echoed in my mind until yesterday's events came rushing back one after another. The wedding. The vows. Ethan. The Maxwell family. I was no longer in the Travis house. I was married.

The realisation settled heavily in my chest as I turned towards the other side of the bed, instinctively looking for Ethan. It was empty. There wasn't even the slightest sign that he had returned after leaving the room the previous night. He had promised he would come back, but perhaps he had returned while I was asleep and left again before sunrise. I couldn't tell. A small sigh escaped my lips as I lowered my gaze. Maybe my words had hurt him more than I had intended. The expression on his face before he walked away had stayed with me all night, and despite telling myself that I had only been honest with him, I couldn't ignore the guilt quietly growing inside me.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I climbed out of bed and stretched my stiff muscles before making my way to the bathroom. Everything inside felt foreign, from the polished marble floors to the expensive toiletries neatly arranged on the counter. This was my first morning in the Maxwell mansion, and although everyone had welcomed me warmly yesterday, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that I didn't belong here. Even taking a simple bath felt strange, as though I was using something that wasn't truly mine.

Just as I finished getting ready, I heard a gentle knock on the bedroom door.

"Young Madam, your clothes are here."

I froze.

Young Madam.

The title sounded so unfamiliar that for a moment I forgot to answer. No one had ever addressed me that way before. Back at the Travis house, the servants always called my stepmother "Madam," Isabella "Young Lady," and my adoptive father "Master." They treated them with nothing but respect. As for me... I was simply Sophia. No title. No special treatment. Just another person living in the house, someone who was expected to work alongside the servants rather than be served by them.

After thanking the maid, I looked through the clothes she had brought for me. There were so many beautiful dresses that I didn't know where to begin. They were all elegant, expensive, and nothing like the simple clothes I was used to wearing. Feeling overwhelmed by the choices, I eventually picked the lightest and simplest dress I could find. It felt more like me.

Once I had changed, I glanced around the spacious bedroom. Staying there all morning didn't feel right. Besides, I didn't want to spend my first day as Ethan's wife hiding inside a room. I decided to go downstairs instead, though I had no idea where I was going. The mansion was enormous, far bigger than the Travis house, and every hallway looked the same to me. Even if I wanted to explore, I wouldn't know where to start. Taking a deep breath, I stepped outside the bedroom, hoping I wouldn't get lost before I found someone.

When I finally found my way to the kitchen, I paused just outside the doorway. The room was already bustling with activity. Some of the maids were preparing breakfast, others were washing vegetables, kneading dough, setting trays, or polishing the silverware, while a few chatted quietly among themselves as they worked. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to be doing, moving around each other with practised ease, so absorbed in their duties that no one noticed my presence. I simply stood there in silence, watching them. I wanted to greet them, but I didn't know how. Should I introduce myself? Should I wait for someone to acknowledge me first? The longer I stood there, the more awkward I felt, until I began to think that perhaps coming downstairs had been a mistake.

Just as I turned around, intending to quietly return to my room before anyone realised I had been standing there all along, I heard someone call out behind me.

"Young Madam, we're so sorry. We didn't realise you were there."

I stopped and slowly turned around to face them. Every pair of eyes in the kitchen was now fixed on me, making me even more uncomfortable than before.

"No, please don't apologise," I said with a small, nervous smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. And... you don't have to call me 'Young Madam.' Sophia is perfectly fine. I don't mind."

The kitchen fell strangely quiet.

The maids exchanged uncertain glances with one another, as though I had just asked them to break an important rule.

"Yes, Miss Sophia," they answered almost in unison.

I shook my head gently.

"No... just Sophia."

For some reason, being addressed so formally made me feel uneasy. I wasn't used to people treating me with such respect. I had never been given a title back home. I was simply Sophia. Sometimes I wasn't even called until there was work waiting for me.

"I'm sorry, Young Madam," one of the older women spoke up politely. Judging by the way everyone seemed to listen to her, I assumed she was the head housekeeper. "We cannot address you by your name alone. It is against the rules of this house. You are Young Master Ethan's wife, which makes you our Young Madam. It is our duty to show you the respect your position deserves."

As she finished speaking, the rest of the maids lowered their heads slightly in agreement.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

Although I had never worked as an official servant, I understood enough about their responsibilities to know they weren't refusing because they disliked me. They were simply following the rules they had been taught. I couldn't blame them for that.

"Alright," I said with a small sigh, giving in. "If that's how things are done here, then I won't force you to change. But..." I paused, smiling a little. "I have one condition."

They all looked at me with puzzled expressions.

Perhaps they thought I was about to make some unreasonable demand, but that wasn't my intention at all.

"I want to help you."

Just as I expected, several of them immediately shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, Young Madam," the head housekeeper replied. "We can't allow that. Preparing meals, cleaning, and taking care of the house are our responsibilities. If the Master or Madam found out that we allowed you to work alongside us, we would be severely reprimanded."

I couldn't help smiling.

"I thought you said I was your Young Madam."

"We did."

"And you also said you couldn't refuse my orders."

They hesitated.

"Well... yes."

"Then this is my first order." I clasped my hands together behind my back and smiled warmly. "Please prepare everything we'll need for breakfast, and I want two of you to stay with me and guide me. I'm still new here, so I'll probably need help finding where everything is. Is that okay?"

Silence filled the kitchen once again.

The maids looked at one another, each silently hoping someone else would object first. Eventually, they all seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time.

Arguing with me was pointless.

"Yes, Young Madam," they answered together, though I could tell from the resigned smiles on a few of their faces that they already knew they had lost.

With two maids guiding me, I began preparing breakfast. They patiently showed me where everything was kept, from the flour and spices to the cooking utensils, while I did most of the cooking myself. It didn't take long before I became familiar with the kitchen, and after that, the three of us worked together as though we had known one another for years. The other maids gradually joined us whenever we needed an extra pair of hands, and before long, the kitchen was filled with quiet conversations, soft laughter, and the comforting aroma of freshly prepared food. Along the way, I managed to learn the names of the two maids helping me, Hazel and Ana. I still didn't know everyone else's names, but I wasn't worried. There would be plenty of time to get to know them all.

For reasons I couldn't quite explain, I found myself genuinely enjoying their company. It had been such a long time since I had worked alongside people who smiled without mocking me or spoke to me without expecting something in return. Their kindness slowly chipped away at the walls I had built around myself over the years, and before I even realised it, I caught myself smiling... a real smile, one that reached my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Somewhere along the way, after leaving the orphanage and moving into the Travis house, smiling had become something I simply stopped doing. Life there had taught me that happiness never lasted long enough to become a habit, so eventually, I had forgotten what it felt like to smile without forcing it.

Once breakfast was finally ready, Hazel, Ana, and the rest of the staff helped me carry everything into the dining room. Together, we carefully arranged every dish on the table before returning to the kitchen. As everyone prepared to continue with their morning duties, I remembered something that made me stop in my tracks.

"I set some breakfast aside for all of you," I said, looking around at them with a small smile. "Please eat before you continue working. You'll be hungry otherwise."

The smiles on their faces disappeared almost instantly.

"I'm sorry, Young Madam," the head housekeeper replied gently. "We can't do that."

I frowned slightly.

"Why not?"

"It is against the rules of this house. The meals prepared for the family belong to the family. We are not permitted to eat until our duties are complete, and even then, we eat separately. Please understand... if anyone were to think we accepted special treatment from you, we could lose our jobs."

The kitchen fell silent.

I looked from one maid to another, only to realise that none of them disagreed with their matron. They weren't refusing because they didn't appreciate my kindness. They were refusing because they were afraid.

A quiet sigh escaped my lips.

"I understand."

Perhaps I had been trying too hard to change things that weren't mine to change. To them, I was the Young Madam of the Maxwell family, someone they were expected to serve and respect. But in my own home... I had never been treated that way. I had been the one expected to serve everyone else, to work without complaint, and to quietly accept whatever was asked of me. The difference between those two worlds was so overwhelming that I still hadn't learned how to live in this new one. No one in this house knew the life I had left behind, and maybe it was better that way.

Looking down at my dress, I noticed streaks of flour scattered across the fabric, the result of kneading dough and baking biscuits with Hazel and Ana. I smiled to myself before excusing myself from the kitchen. It seemed I would have to return upstairs and change before anyone else noticed how untidy I looked.

By the time I reached our room, I had almost forgotten about the flour covering my dress. I quietly pushed the door open, expecting to find the room empty.

Instead, I froze.

Ethan stood in the middle of the room with a towel draped over his shoulders, casually drying his damp hair. His clothes were nowhere to be seen. The only thing covering the upper half of his body was the towel resting around his neck, leaving his chest completely bare.

"Oh my God..."

The words escaped my lips before I could stop them.

Without a second thought, I spun around and tightly shut my eyes, my heart pounding wildly against my chest.

Was this man determined to shorten my lifespan?

"How many times do I have to tell you to change your clothes inside the bathroom?" I asked, trying my best to sound annoyed instead of flustered. "You can't just walk around half-naked knowing someone could come into the room at any moment."

I could already feel the heat creeping up my face.

What kind of marriage had I gotten myself into?

Yesterday it had been his shirt.

Today it was almost everything else.

At this rate, what if one day I accidentally walked in on him with nothing on at all?

"You know," Ethan's amused voice came from somewhere in front of me, "I don't remember giving this room to anyone."

I frowned without opening my eyes.

"What?"

"I mean..." he continued, unable to hide the laughter in his voice, "this is my room too. I'm pretty sure I have the right to dress however I like in my own bedroom."

Before I could react, I felt him gently take hold of my wrists, lowering my hands from my face.

My eyes flew open in surprise.

"There," he said with a teasing grin. "See? I'm still wearing a towel. The world hasn't ended."

I glared at him immediately.

"Ethan."

"What?" he asked innocently, although the smile on his face told me he was enjoying every second of this.

He folded his arms across his chest before speaking again, his expression becoming a little more serious.

"Listen, Sophia. I know we agreed that this marriage isn't based on love, and I respect everything you said yesterday. If being friends is what makes you comfortable, then I'm willing to try." He paused for a moment before continuing. "But no matter how we choose to define this relationship, one thing won't change: we're married. That's a fact neither of us can avoid. So I think you're making a much bigger deal out of this than you need to."

I folded my arms as well, refusing to back down.

"This isn't just your room anymore," I replied firmly. "You and your mother made that very clear yesterday. Which means I have just as much right to this room as you do, and I also have the right to complain when something makes me uncomfortable."

His playful smile slowly faded.

"You remember what we agreed on last night, don't you?" I continued. "We said we'd treat each other as friends. Nothing more."

"I remember."

"Then please..." I said, softening my tone ever so slightly. "Stop doing things like this. I'm not used to sharing a room with a man, and I don't think it's unreasonable to ask you to change your clothes in the bathroom."

Without waiting for his response, I picked up the clean dress I had come for and made my way towards the bathroom, hoping that by the time I came back out, Ethan would be fully dressed and I wouldn't have to survive another embarrassing encounter before breakfast.