Wanting to support a friend morally during her job search, I went with her to see the count—and ended up as the governess for his three daughters, nicknamed “monstritos” in our town. Everyone who’d been assigned to them before me fled in horror from their charges, calling them злые, stubborn, willful, capricious, and more such unflattering epithets. What did I do to deserve such luck? And there’s also their widower‑father with shockingly blue eyes. And the character of the daughter clearly went to him. So who will be the first to wave the white flag in our showdown? Or will love work miracles again?