She walked to her bed and fell on it like a log of wood.

"Jeez, will I be able to cope with this luxurious life? I'm not used to life without doing any single work. I can't wash, I can't cook; I practically won't do anything on my own for the next six months," she groaned and ruffled her head, before laying on the bed with her hair sprawled on the pillow like a ghost.

"Dera, you're going to survive, okay? You won't die before the six months," she mumbled and sat upright, remembering her dad hadn't called her yet.

***********

Henry stood up from the dining room, though he...