Maid Meets Girl

Every servant of House Leonhart was exceptional.

Gardeners, cooks, butlers, maids — the estate brimmed with people who were anything but ordinary.

And among them all, the most skilled were the Leonhart family guards.

House Leonhart had been a knightly house of renown since the days of the first emperor. Naturally, the estate's guards were drawn from the ranks of the order itself — fine sentries, and proper knights in their own right.

And right now, Noir was slipping out of that very estate without any of those guards noticing.

She already knew their patrol routes and shift changes. At this hour the maids would be scrambling to prepare lunch. Drawing on the data filed away in her head, Noir calculated an exit route — and ran it at once.

Sometimes she vaulted a window. Sometimes she raced across rooftops. Sometimes she melted into the brush. Not a shred of aristocratic dignity remained in the sight of her, but for the novels waiting at the bookstore, it was a trial she would gladly endure.

"Hup—!"

It wasn't that House Leonhart forbade her from going out. If Noir simply told Lucius she wanted to leave, he would grant permission on the spot. What she would never be allowed was to wander the city alone.

Lucius had always doted on his granddaughter; after his son died, that doting only grew fiercer. An outing without an escort was out of the question. And for Noir, that was absolutely unacceptable. She treated her addiction to light entertainment novels like a shameful secret, and she would never, under any circumstances, let anyone see her buying them.

"Haa… haa… I'm out."

At last, by her tangled route, Noir cleared the great estate and scaled the wall. She had done this many times, yet it never got any easier. She doubted it ever would.

"Th-that's all you have…?"

"Yeah. We're in a tough spot too. Quitting without a word like that — no professional courtesy at all."

Having escaped the estate in full disguise, Noir had walked into the bookstore beaming. Her overnight shopping list held more than twenty titles. What actually ended up in her hands: a mere three volumes — and the lowest priorities on her list, at that.

"Wait a second! You're telling me there's no Gwangnyeoni Joins the Extreme Troupe either? Or I Became the Academy's Blessed Mage?!"

Abandonment. Noir knew the term existed in the novel world. Whenever she heard it, she had always thought, That has nothing to do with me, as if it were someone else's problem. She had not known. In this industry, abandonment was as common as rain. She had not known that that cruel, nauseating practice might one day strike the very series she was reading…!

"Those authors dropped those a while back, too."

"Ah…"

This is a dream. Yes. It has to be a dream. A vicious nightmare of flying and then crashing into the ground. Any moment she would open her eyes to her familiar bedroom ceiling, get ready to go out again, and start the perfect day over. This wretched reality was only a nightmare…

But contrary to Noir's desperate wish, she did not wake from any deep sleep. All she could do was leave behind curses for the authors who had abandoned her. That was everything she had left.

A wandering period: a stretch of life without a clear direction or goal. It comes not only to people, but even to beasts like dogs and cats. And Destiny's title heroine, Noir, is said to have had one of her own.

No concrete details are given, but players who knew Noir's past assumed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those days had been thick with regret and ruin. The truth was different.

Yes — Noir had endured an education close to abuse at her father's hands, and an unhappy childhood. Yes — after he died, the very word noble had filled her with disgust and doubt. But the Noir currently in her wandering period looked nothing like what the players had imagined. There might have been a certain desolation from having her favorite novels abandoned en masse, but whether that even counted as desolation was an open question.

"Uuuugh…"

Wearing a face on the edge of tears, Noir trudged down an alley. She had turned every bookstore in Preas inside out. Nowhere was there a single novel she was looking for. Even as she tried to deny reality, the three volumes in her hands cruelly insisted that this was, in fact, real.

Up to this point, the flow matched the original story. After that, abandoned Noir would wander the alleys in a hollow daze — and stumble upon a small, shabby secondhand bookshop missing from the maps. Drawn there without quite knowing why, she would open the door and be greeted by the smell of old paper. From titles to covers, the books were crude compared to the entertainment novels she usually read, dust thick upon them. But with her heart emptied of those novels, Noir would be drawn to that very roughness and pick one up.

A simple title. Noir, who had been wrestling with the meaning of nobility, would open it at once and read.

It was an ordinary novel. Author unknown. Year of publication unknown. As the title suggested, it was rough and plain, without any sensational twists.

The protagonist made many mistakes and had no outstanding talent — a far cry from the "perfection" Noir's father had forced upon her. And yet the way that heroine weathered trials with her companions and grew into the head of a house and a knight struck deep into Noir's heart. Her father had ordered her to become a proper noble without ever explaining what a noble was. This book told her. And so Noir would end her short, long wandering period and set out to become the kind of noble she herself wanted — not the kind her father had demanded.

That was how the original story would have continued.

But somewhere, the thread had snagged. Before she ever found that secondhand bookshop, Noir was already surrounded by a pack of hulking street thugs.

"Twelve years old, silver hair. Face looks noble, but the clothes are commoner's… Boss, I think this is the kid."

"Hmm… Is this brat really the one? Doesn't look that strong."

Thanks to House Leonhart's efforts, Preas was famous for better public order than most cities. Even so, no city is free of trash. And with the Golden Festival drawing outsiders in droves, the alleys were crawling with more of it than usual. The thugs ringing Noir were exactly that sort of imported garbage.

"Eh, whatever. Description matches. Let's take her."

"Excuse me— what on earth is this supposed to—!"

They had been hired the day before by a merchant whose goods had been stolen near this alley by some unknown assailant. His only demand: comb all of Preas if necessary and seize a "twelve-year-old noble girl with silver hair, dressed in commoner's clothes." And Noir, disguised to hide her identity, was wearing a white wig and commoner's clothes.

"Wait— let go of me…!"

Noir was no ordinary child. Trained in sword and magic as a noble, she could, even at twelve, subdue several adults with ease. But the thugs the merchant had hired were no ordinary men either. Noir wrapped herself in mana and fought back; they did the same and seized her wrists. For all her skill, she was still a twelve-year-old girl. In pure physical contest, she could not overpower mana-wielding adults. She had slipped out in secret, so of course she carried no sword. And the magic she commanded was fire. In a shabby alley like this, her control was not precise enough to put them down without harming bystanders.

"Wait— someone, anyone, please help!"

Noir called out to the people around her, but in Preas during the Golden Festival, no one paid any mind to a back alley. Completely surrounded. If things truly turned deadly she could still burn her way free, so it was not quite a no-win — but the danger was real all the same.

Should I just shut my eyes and burn them? What if the fire spreads? If someone else gets hurt because of me…!

Noir closed her eyes and made her decision. For now, she would go along with them. She did not know where they would drag her. But somewhere along the way they might slip into a deserted stretch, or some opening would appear. Then she would use her magic, and—

But the future Noir had resigned herself to never came. She was not hauled away in their hands.

"Are you all right?"

It happened in an instant. A pure-white girl stepped into the alley — and in the blink of an eye, more than five grown men were on the ground. Her movements were like white petals riding the wind, noble and clean. Noir's eyes could not track them, but she could tell at least this much: every motion was breathtakingly beautiful, and utterly elegant.

Hate the sin, not the sinner. An old saying, and a fine one. But if it is a person who commits the sin — how, exactly, is one supposed not to hate the person?

"Thank you so very much."

Hair as pure white as my own. Eyes that looked straight at me, beautiful as if they had bottled the sea. From those finely gathered features alone, I could tell this child would grow into a stunning beauty.

Destiny's popular character: Noir von Leonhart. Her hair was not the black I remembered, but this girl was unmistakably young Noir. A wig, then? Why was she in an alley like this?

From the moment I arrived in Preas, I had steeled myself for a situation like this. Steeling yourself, however, does not mean the situation is allowed to actually happen. I had simply helped a little girl while walking down the street — and it was Noir? Who could have predicted a coincidence like this!

— Crrrk…

Why now…!

Hold it in. I have to hold it in. If I let my feelings show here, there will be no taking it back.

"Um… you don't look well. Are you feeling all right?"

Ahh, no. I can't keep a grip on my emotions…!

The face of the girl before me overlapped with the Noir I had seen in the game. Right. In times like this, count maids. One maid… two maids… three maids…

Ah, it's no use…! It's so intoxicating I feel like I'm going to lose my mind!

"I'd like to offer some kind of reward, at least…"

Calm down. I have already forgiven those who committed deep sins against me. Think of it. Back in Hongdae — those harlots who defiled the name of maid in their café. And the forbearance with which I forgave them and remade them into true maids…!

Hoo… hoo…

Yes. Calm. According to the story, Noir never wore ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that so-called maid uniform — that prostitute's costume — of her own free will. She was half forced into it. In a way, she was a victim too. She never meant to insult maids…

Ah, I can't. I can't calm down at all. I cannot quiet the Maid Soul inside me…!

"No reward is necessary…"

That Noir is the Noir of the main story. Holding the present Noir accountable for those sins would be absurd. And so, by a truly miraculous feat of patience, I managed to keep at least a shred of reason.

"Then I'll take my leave…"

"Huh? W-wait a moment!"

First — first I get out of here. Get somewhere Noir can't see me. Decision made, I fled the alley without looking back. Noir's voice called after me, trying to stop me, but all it did was conjure the voice of game-Noir reciting that awful line.

Noir stared blankly after the departing girl.

Who on earth was she? Why refuse even a reward? The composure that did not flinch before grown men. The elegance that clung to every movement. The nobility that seemed to pour from her features. And the kindness that helped someone in distress without asking anything in return.

Noir did not know who the girl was. But the image of her would not leave Noir's mind. She thought: I still don't know what a true noble is. But never mind nobility — I want to become someone that beautiful.

Noir looked in the direction the girl had gone and quickened her steps.

On this wide plain, a lost horse still does not know which way to turn. But looking at the beautiful white steed already far ahead, the lost horse took one step forward.

Nobility. She still did not know what it was — but for now, she would try to become a beautiful person, like that girl. That was the first step Noir had chosen for herself, not for her father.

And Noir, emerging from the alley, never found the secondhand bookshop.

"Preparations are finished, I take it?"

"Of course, Seven."

The final day of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Golden Festival. Operation day. Aside from accidentally running into Noir yesterday, everything had gone smoothly so far.

"Where are B and V?"

"Already moved to the operation zone. We just need to get there."

"Understood."

This mission was by far the hardest of any I had been assigned. Naturally B and V had asked to cooperate, and refusing would have been awkward, so I had accepted in the end. I had planned to go through the motions and fail on purpose, but when I agreed, B and V had looked genuinely pleased.

"Then let's move as well."

I drew the mask hidden against my chest and started toward the operation zone.