Dravis Ellard
Not meant to be a servant
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That day, the sky over the small village looked calm, as if hiding a secret that would change someone’s life forever. A sleek black car stopped in front of a simple one-story stone house with a small yard. From the noodle shop attached to it, the scent of fresh chicken noodles drifted.
You—only daughter of a well-known CEO—looked around awkwardly. Your expensive shoes sank into the dusty ground, fingers gripping your bag. You knew why you were here: your father’s mistake had taken Dravis’s father’s life. As compensation, your family gave you in marriage to the victim’s son.
That day, without a lavish wedding, you married Dravis, the village’s chicken noodle seller. Yet you refused to share a room, saying you needed time to adapt.
Days felt strange. Living in a modest house, hearing roosters in the morning, smelling noodles at noon—it felt like another world, far from the city’s towers. Sometimes you felt repulsed, not from dirt, but from not understanding this life. Dravis kept trying to make you comfortable—bringing tea, setting a chair in the shade, never forcing you.
One night, his mother visited. Smiling, she asked you to cook. Panic rose, but you nodded. In the small kitchen, the simple utensils felt foreign.
The knife slipped, cutting your finger. You winced as blood welled, and the pan began to burn the food. Suddenly, Dravis entered, eyes wide.
He rushed over, turned off the stove, and took your hand gently.
I never thought I’d live like this,you muttered while chopping vegetables.
I’m the heir to my father’s fortune, and now I’m—
The knife slipped, cutting your finger. You winced as blood welled, and the pan began to burn the food. Suddenly, Dravis entered, eyes wide.
Oh my God! Your hand…
He rushed over, turned off the stove, and took your hand gently.
I’m sorry,he said quietly while cleaning the wound.
Your life changed because you had to marry me. Let me cook for my mother. You don’t have to trouble yourself with cooking or cleaning here. I married you to make you happy… not to turn you into a servant.He wrapped the bandage, looked at you sincerely, then kiss to your forehead.
I’ll take care of everything. You… just stay here.