01. A New Master
The edge of the low hills sliced through the darkness, turning a deep orange as brilliant light began to spill across the land. The first rays of dawn did not rush; they raced across the hills, carried by the wind.
Wherever the sunlight touched, living things shook off the darkness they had buried themselves in overnight and stretched with vigor. Dewdrops fell from blades of grass, and butterflies unfurled their damp wings. Flower buds that had been tightly shut slowly opened, revealing their vivid colors.
Sheep, not yet fully awake, moved their feet sluggishly in search of young grass, and in the village visible in the distance, smoke from the morning’s bread baking rose faintly before dissolving into the sky.
The beautiful land was overflowing with life. Except for one place.
Even under the brilliant sunlight, the Edenhurst estate remained shrouded in darkness. It was as if that place alone were still lingering in the depths of winter.
The servants of the estate, having awakened, moved quickly but quietly.
At this hour, the masters of the house would normally be in a deep sleep. However, the butler glared fiercely at anyone who made even the slightest sound while moving. This was especially true when passing by the Countess’s room.
For the past few months, the Countess had been unable to sleep without medication, and even with it, she could not find a deep slumber. Because of this, she would sensitively notice the slightest noise and dismiss the servants without mercy. Yet, no one in the Edenhurst estate could complain about the Countess.
This was partly due to the deep loyalty the servants held for the House of Count Lauderdale, but also because of their pity for a mother who had lost her only son.
All the servants of Edenhurst wore black clothing as a sign of mourning. There was no laughter on anyone’s face. They dared not laugh as long as their masters did not.
The busiest place in the estate during the morning was the kitchen. Emma, the stout head cook, was the first to see to the masters’ meals. They rarely asked for food at this hour, but if they did, it had to be brought without delay.
After preparing the masters’ things, she made the meal for the servants. A soup filled with ingredients boiled in a pot so large a person could fit inside, and the kitchen maid assisting Emma busily ladled it into bowls. By the time she had served even the lowest-ranking servants, the large pot was already scraping the bottom.
Emma then brought over a chipped bowl used for vegetable scraps, scraped the bottom of the pot, and filled it with the single ladle of soup she had managed to salvage.
"You there."
Emma, looking around, called out to the young maid who had just started working there.
"Put this over there."
The maid, taking the bowl, went to the place Emma indicated. It was a space next to the kitchen used as a storage room—a place where sacks of potatoes were piled high and no light reached. Beside it sat a small table that could barely hold two plates and a backless, round wooden chair.
The maid placed the soup bowl down, looked around, and then placed a bread basket that had been nearby onto the small table.
Seeing this, Emma shouted at the maid.
"What are you doing? Why are you putting the scarce bread there!"
"But that is for Miss Anastasia..."
The maid muttered in a shrinking voice, as if she did not know what she had done wrong. Emma clicked her tongue and gestured for the maid to come closer.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Anastasia."
Having the same name was nothing surprising in the Novgod Empire. In this country, which had existed for barely two hundred years, there were not many names to go around. Because of that, there were people with the same names everywhere.
"You want to receive the name of Edenhurst, don't you?"
At Emma’s question, the maid nodded vigorously. At the mention of the Edenhurst name, a light of longing filled the maid’s eyes.
"Then learn to read the room."
Emma turned her head to look at the table in the corner where the soup bowl sat. That seat was for one person only.
Ten years ago, the previous Count Lauderdale had suddenly brought back a red-haired girl from somewhere and announced he would make her his adopted daughter. That day, the Countess, who had always been noble, elegant, and composed, raised her voice for the first time since arriving at the estate. While the Count and Countess argued, the girl had only stood there, trembling with her head bowed low.
A few days later, the girl was given the name Anastasia Lauderdale. That name held the Countess’s firm resolve. It was a testament to her determination to accept her husband’s will to adopt the girl, while refusing to give her even a fingernail’s worth of affection.
Those recognized as members of Edenhurst received Ils-style names, not Novgod-style ones. The head cook, too, had received the name Emma instead of her Novgod name, Svetlanya. The butler, Sergei, had also been given the name James at Edenhurst.
Besides them, everyone who had earned the right to remain here by gaining the Countess’s approval held an Edenhurst name. Even the three dogs kept at the estate. But the girl the Count had brought remained simply Anastasia.
"Do you understand?"
When Emma asked again, the maid nodded. She then quickly cleared the bread bowl she had placed earlier and moved it to the servants’ table. Seeing this, Emma felt relieved. The young maid did not seem as foolish as she had feared.
The servants who had finished their morning chores began to come down to the kitchen and sit at the tables. Although they were required to be quiet, the butler and the head maid’s surveillance did not reach the basement dining hall where only the servants were present, so they shared light jokes and reached for their meals.
Just as the meal was coming to an end, the sound of someone descending the inner stairs was heard. The young maid, who had been tearing off a piece of bread while listening to her seniors at the edge of the table, turned her head at the sound of footsteps. A moment later, a woman appeared.
Even to the maid, she looked like a woman wearing layers of old, long-outdated clothes. She had her hair completely covered with a thin muffler, as if she were a nun. On top of that, she wore a wide-brimmed hat that obscured her face.
If one had met her on the street, it was an outfit that would have made people steal glances with strange looks before moving away.
The woman, who entered the kitchen with a dragging gait, sat down at the table where the young maid had placed the bowl earlier.
She was Anastasia Lauderdale.
As Anastasia descended, the servants gathered at the table fell silent for a moment, their eyes fixed on her. But soon, they turned their heads away, continuing their conversation as if they hadn't seen a thing. The young maid watched them, then followed suit, turning her head just like the others. She had learned the rules of this manor quickly.
With no one paying her any mind, Anastasia looked at the food prepared for her. A single bowl of soup, barely half-full. That was all. On the servants' table, sitting a short distance away, there was not only soup brimming with ingredients but also freshly baked morning bread and yellow butter.
Anastasia gazed at their table for a moment before looking away. She then clasped her hands together and prayed over her own portion of soup. Though no one else could see, her expression as she closed her eyes and murmured her prayer was that of a devout monk.
Once her long prayer ended, Anastasia picked up the spoon that had been tossed onto the table. It was a spoon that still bore the traces of the person who had used it before her.
Anastasia wiped it clean on the hem of her skirt and began to eat the soup.
Though the soup had already lost its warmth, Anastasia felt happy. Unlike a short while ago, the soup contained a variety of ingredients, however sparse. As she swallowed the flavorful broth, her empty stomach churned even more violently, but Anastasia moved her hand slowly. While she ate, the servants dining nearby had already finished their meal and were busy chatting.
"The food has certainly gotten better lately."
"Indeed. Just a month ago, you couldn't even tell if it was soup or water. I heard a distant relative of the Madam in the capital found out about the manor's situation and decided to help, didn't they?"
At the mention of help, a shadow of pity crossed the servants' faces. How had the Count Lauderdale family fallen to the point of needing help from others?
The Count Lauderdale family was a fairly prestigious noble house in the Novgod Empire. The first Count Lauderdale, who had defected from Ils, continued to use the name Ils even after settling in Novgod. It had been a wise choice in Novgod, where many—royals and nobles alike—envied Ils.
A hundred years had passed since the family migrated to Novgod. The prestige of the Count’s family, which had seemed destined to rise even higher, hit a downward spiral in an instant. It began with the Count’s death five years ago.
The Count had gone fox hunting near the estate when he was thrown from his horse, struck his head against a rock, and died instantly. He was thirty-seven at the time. Far too young an age to end one's life.
It was a tragic event, yet no one worried about the future of the Count’s family. The Count had a son, Edward, who would inherit everything. However, the war with Schweik broke out that same year, and the heir, Edward, was forced to head to the battlefield under the Empress Dowager’s order to fulfill his duty.
Everyone knew that for nobles, participating in the war meant staying in a safe place behind the lines, so they all assumed Edward would return as soon as the war ended to become the next Count. But the war dragged on longer than expected, and Edward’s return was delayed as well.
The Countess offered many things, submitting petitions to the Imperial Court to hasten Edward’s return. Thanks to this, the townhouse in the capital, the villas in places other than Edenhurst, and the fertile lands all became property of the Imperial Court. From then on, the Count’s family walked a path of rapid decline.
Four years passed. Just as the sluggish war was finally nearing its end, Edward died, absurdly caught in the explosion of an allied ammunition depot.
Upon receiving the notice of her son’s death last winter, the Countess fainted, and since then, she had washed her hands of everything.
Even without that, the income had dwindled, and the estate needed to be managed with the utmost care; with the Countess giving up, there was no way things could run properly. Furthermore, the person managing the estate on the Countess’s behalf had secretly sold off the family’s jewelry to fund his own gambling and debauchery.
In the end, the Count’s family was driven into a corner. For the first time, the servants saw the bottom of the food storage. As the monthly wages, which had always been paid on time, began to fall into arrears, several servants left the manor. When winter passed and spring arrived, those who remained also felt it was no longer possible to stay, and they watched each other to see who would leave first.
Then, suddenly, a stranger arrived at the manor, claiming to have been sent by a distant relative of the Countess. He handled the urgent affairs of the Count’s family, saying it was at the relative’s command. Thanks to him, the potato and flour bins, which had only a few sacks left, were filled to the brim again, and fresh butter and milk arrived every day. That was why the servants' table had become bountiful once more after such a long time.
"But you know... I heard that person isn't actually a relative."
A servant sitting in the corner spoke up cautiously. Everyone looked at him, hearing this for the first time.
"What are you talking about? Not a relative? Then who provided the help?"
"Well, you see..."
The servant hesitated, glancing around at the others. He had been taught that as a common servant, one should not speak lightly of the masters' affairs. So, keeping his mouth shut was the right thing to do, but...
As he hesitated, Emma chimed in quietly.
"What does it matter? There’s no butler or head maid here anyway."
As the head cook, she should have been the one to stop them from gossiping, but Emma’s curiosity was piqued by the news that the benefactor wasn't a relative. With Emma’s tacit permission, the servant spoke again.
"Actually, while I was cleaning upstairs earlier, I overheard a conversation between the Madam and the butler..."
The servant gestured for the others to lean in, then lowered his voice as much as he could.
"A new master is coming to Edenhurst."
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