Although I arrived at the castle with more ease than expected, my duties as a maid were already waiting for me. Under the brief instructions of Robert, the butler, I was assigned a room. It was a cramped, shabby room for two.
Though the scale was entirely different, the work of a maid was mostly what I had done at the convent. Cleaning thoroughly and preparing food ingredients. I had braced myself for Curtis to assign me grueling tasks and treat me harshly, but the man who had placed me here seemed to have forgotten me entirely; he hadn't even shown his face.
Since no one other than Robert and a few others knew my true identity, I spent my days more peacefully than I had anticipated.
About a fortnight later, a letter arrived from the convent. I held the letter close to my heart, clutching a sea sponge in my hand. I was in the middle of scrubbing the stairs, lugging a heavy bucket of water.
Just as I was nearly finished, someone approached and kicked the bucket.
I let out a sharp scream and jumped to my feet. My roughened hands and the hem of my worn skirt were soaked with cold water. The person who had kicked the bucket, however, wore a look of defiance.
"Why are you here? Have you already finished cleaning the west wing stairs?"
"Yes. I just finished and was cleaning the entrance hall stairs."
It was Lizzie, my roommate and a senior maid who had been here five years longer than me. She had taken a dislike to me from the moment she learned she had to share the room—originally meant for a single person—with me, and she had been openly tormenting me, such as by throwing away my share of meals whenever the butler was away.
"Ha, already? You didn't just give it a quick wipe for dust, did you?"
"If you don't believe me, go see for yourself."
I had expected this level of hazing. I replied without changing my expression. Perhaps that attitude annoyed her even more, as Lizzie pursed her lips and picked a fight.
"Tell me the truth. Whose connections did you use to get in here?"
"Connections?"
"Don't even think about lying. You don't have a letter of recommendation, and you're not even from this territory, so how did you get in here!"
If the master of this castle counted as a connection, then I suppose I had one. I erased the face that suddenly came to mind and shook my head.
"I have no such thing. It's the truth."
"Don't make me laugh. Do you think I'd believe that? And another thing!"
Lizzie, who had no way of knowing the full story, glared at me. She had worked so hard to get a job in this castle. Not only was she displeased that this woman had suddenly appeared, but she also hated how she had managed to occupy a spot near the precious young lady with her pretty face. She had hoped that if she bullied her, she would leave, but the woman was unexpectedly persistent.
What angered her most was something she had overheard by chance while passing the butler's office earlier. The butler was giving an astonishing order to a servant.
"To think a drifter like you would occupy the room next to Lady Frey! There’s definitely something going on. Do you think I’m a fool?"
"The room next to Lady Frey?"
It was the first I had heard of it. I asked back, my mouth agape. Lizzie, looking at me as if I were being hypocritical, kicked the bucket down the stairs this time.
"Aha, so you’re going to pretend you don't know about this, too? You really are a vixen. What kind of flattery did you whisper to the butler? Why don't you stop the act?"
That was my limit. I took a deep breath and calmly pointed at the bucket.
"Go pick it up."
"W-what?"
"I said, go pick it up again."
Lizzie’s eyes widened. This was a woman who had obediently accepted everything she threw at her. Flustered by this unexpected, firm command, Lizzie stammered.
"Y-you, what did you just say? How dare you?"
"You should clean up the mess you made yourself. If you keep acting so spiteful like this, you’ll eventually draw someone’s attention."
"Are you threatening me right now?"
As I spoke to her as if she were a child, her confusion turned into rage. Lizzie raised her hand.
"You! Argh!"
She tried to strike me, but I caught her wrist. Feeling the grip, which was stronger than she expected, Lizzie frowned.
"It hurts, let go!"
"I will let go if you promise to pick up that bucket and clean up the water."
"Do you think you’ll be able to stay here safely after doing this?"
Lizzie struggled, panting as she tried to pull her captured hand away. However, she was no match for my strength, which I had built up over the past two years at the convent, where I had even chopped firewood. Finally, after a long struggle, she raised the white flag.
"Fine, I get it! I get it, so let go!"
As soon as she shouted, nearly on the verge of tears, the firm restraint was released. With eyes filled with a mix of shock, fear, and anger, Lizzie picked up the bucket that had tumbled down the stairs as if fleeing.
"Bring a rag and wipe the water clean. Help her if it's too much."
"I-I don't need it."
With her momentum significantly dampened compared to just a moment ago, Lizzie averted her gaze sharply. I shrugged my shoulders and left to change my clothes. Soon, the gaze that had been watching me from afar also vanished.
* * *
"Did the work go well?"
At Robert’s question, Curtis, who had taken off his thick robe, nodded.
"Well enough. Tomorrow, I plan to inspect the outer walls with Greg and check on the security."
"Is this because of Viscount Otis?"
"Since our territories border each other, he’s always looking for an opening to cross the boundary."
It was a busy time. With the day to pay the defense tax to the King approaching, Curtis was spending days as the lord with not a moment to spare.
Yesterday, he had spent the entire day wrestling with the council of free farmers over customary laws and tax issues, and today, he had been out since dawn inspecting the fields being sown and assessing this year's harvest. Afterward, he had met with the manager of the winery to hear their grievances and had just returned from checking the forest to be cleared and the ironworks. Originally, he had delegated about half of these tasks to Robert, but since last year, as his strength had waned with age, he had been doing it all himself.
"Is there anything to report?"
"Nothing in particular, but there was a quarrel between Roxana and another maid."
"Roxana?"
She was a woman who couldn't even kill an ant, let alone quarrel with someone. Yet, she had fought with another maid? My ears perked up at the unexpected news. Seeing the subtle change in Curtis’s face, Robert smiled inwardly.
He had been keeping a close eye on Roxana. It was because of Curtis’s ambiguous feelings toward her. He had spared her, his mortal enemy, only to lock her away in a barren convent. Just when he thought he had forgotten her entirely, he had brought her here as a maid.
"Use her as a menial maid. It doesn't matter what kind of rough work it is."
From their first meeting, Robert had felt a strange sense of pity and affection for the young lady named Roxana. After quietly looking into it, he found that although she was the only daughter of the detestable Marquess of Dalton, most of the people in the Pewi territory were favorable toward her.
"Lady Roxana? She is a pitiful and kind person. I hated her once, but in the end, I couldn't bring myself to."
"She prepared food for us throughout the winter, avoiding the Marquess's eyes. She is also well-versed in pharmacology, like her mother, so she helped us in many ways."
"Fate is truly strange. How could such an angel be born from such a devil? When we heard she had passed away, I couldn't focus on my work for a long time."
She had lived without any trouble at the convent, and her determination and courage in risking her life to come here for the sick children were also admirable. On top of that, she was silently doing her part even after becoming a maid.
Robert thought that if he were to serve a mistress, he would want it to be a lady like her.
If only she hadn't been the daughter of the Marquess of Dalton.
Reaching that thought, Robert shook his head silently. The important thing was that she was the only woman who stirred Curtis, who was often criticized for having no interest in the opposite sex.
As if to prove Robert’s thoughts, while Curtis was silently drinking, pretending to listen half-heartedly, his entire focus was on the story.
"I was about to intervene in surprise because the other maid raised her hand."
At the mention of her raising her hand, Curtis looked at Robert without realizing it. Robert, who had deliberately paused, smiled and continued.
"Instead, Roxana caught the other maid’s wrist. I don't know where such strength came from in that slender body, but the maid eventually surrendered, her spirit broken."
"So she hasn't lost her temper entirely."
At the muttering voice, Robert smiled faintly.
"The other maids said that the maid had been bullying Roxana regularly."
The story ended. Curtis, who straightened his posture as if he had never been interested, dried his wet hair with a towel and changed into the clothes the maid had brought.
The back muscles, interlocking beneath his broad shoulders, stood out as an old scar appeared and disappeared. Curtis, who sat heavily on the couch in front of the fireplace, popped the cork of a liquor bottle. Robert, watching with worried eyes, stopped him.
"Please refrain from it today."
"This much won't even make me drunk."
"It is not good for your health."
At the continued dissuasion, Curtis finally put the bottle down. Robert, who had instructed the maid to clear away the bottle, sat cautiously on the couch opposite Curtis.
He was looking at the burning pile of firewood in the fireplace. The light, undulating like waves, cast a red glow over his sharp-featured face.
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