Chapter 71: Transfer of Power
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 71: Transfer of Power
I hadn't entirely scrapped my plan to live quietly in Blenheim and slip away unnoticed, but I wasn't about to roll over when someone came looking for a fight.
Up until now, I had been considerate enough to let the head maid maintain a modicum of dignity within the castle. It was my way of showing respect for Marzella, who had climbed to her position through years of service in a single workplace.
Yet, she hadn't hesitated to plot something that tarnished the very honor of the family she served. This was an insult to both Blenheim and the Grand Duke.
She has clearly crossed the line.
Since she was the one who had moved first to ruin my reputation, I had no choice but to respond in kind.
"Bring Benet to me," I commanded Reta, my mind made up.
When Benet was summoned a moment later, she looked utterly perplexed and uneasy.
"I have something to ask you."
"P-please, speak, Your Highness."
I held out the entry log Reta had brought earlier.
"Did you happen to leave the castle yesterday? Your name is written here."
As Benet took the paper, she immediately realized who had signed her name. I could see her mind racing, weighing the risks and rewards. After a moment of hesitation, she looked up.
"It wasn't me."
"Not you? But your name is right here."
"The head maid... she sometimes uses the maids' names when she goes out."
A soft curve formed on my lips. "I'm relieved to hear that."
Seeing Benet’s bewildered expression, I brushed my hair back to reveal the scar on my forehead.
"You've heard about yesterday's commotion, haven't you? It seems the culprit is linked to an insider who left the castle at this exact time."
Benet let out a gasp of horror as she caught my meaning.
"Your Highness! It truly wasn't me! The head maid just did as she pleased...!"
"That's a relief. I was worried your deep affection for her might lead you to cover up her mistakes."
Benet’s shoulders went rigid with tension. She seemed to realize just how precarious her situation would have been had she made a different choice.
"This is quite a predicament. If the head maid is truly involved in such a disgraceful affair, how can I trust her to manage the household?"
Benet’s expression shifted at those words.
"And yet, I've only just arrived; it wouldn't look right for me to replace her on a whim."
I sighed, casting a sidelong glance at Benet. Fortunately, she was quick-witted. Realizing my intent, she straightened her posture and clasped her hands together.
"Though I am lacking, I wish to help ease Your Highness's burden in any way I can. If there is anything you require of me, please do not hesitate to say the word."
"That is very reassuring."
With a satisfied smile, I gestured for her to join me at the table.
"Sit for a moment. We have much to discuss."
*
In the West Annex, where the servants' quarters were located, there was a room on the third floor known as "Zella’s Parlor."
It was an exclusive lounge reserved for high-ranking maids who had long pledged their loyalty to the head maid. Being invited to "Zella’s Parlor" was a clear sign of status. While ordinary maids ate in the refectory, the chosen few enjoyed separate meals here.
The meals served in the parlor were the most luxurious in the castle after the Grand Ducal couple's. Meat was served at every meal, and fine wine was provided instead of beer. Even outside of mealtimes, the parlor was stocked with expensive cookies and cakes left over from the Grand Duke’s table, and ordinary maids were severely punished just for lingering near the door.
That was why, when Marzella entered "Zella’s Parlor" this morning and saw ordinary maids eating cookies without permission, she was momentarily speechless.
"What do you think you're doing?"
She spoke with suppressed rage, but the maids merely stared back at her, showing no sign of fear.
"I asked what you are doing!" Marzella screamed, her patience snapping.
She had been on edge for days. Lady Meisel was the one who gave the orders, so why am I the only one losing sleep?
Because the Grand Duchess had moved faster than expected to meet the Merchant Association President, Marzella had been forced to risk leaving the castle to pass on the word. She hadn't slept a wink, terrified that the thugs would be stupid enough to get caught and lead the trail back to her. To make matters worse, she was irritated by reports that the commoners were starting to sympathize with the Grand Duchess after the incident.
"Get up, all of you! Who gave you permission to sit here?"
"I did."
An elegant voice drifted from behind the fuming Marzella. She turned to see the Grand Duchess standing in the doorway, flanked by her ladies-in-waiting.
The Grand Duchess?
The maids, who had been ignoring Marzella, scrambled to their feet and bowed.
What is she doing here?
For a second, Marzella flinched, wondering if her crime had been discovered, but the Grand Duchess’s expression was surprisingly bright. Marzella struggled to maintain her composure as she offered a greeting.
"It seems there aren't enough chairs," the Grand Duchess remarked, ignoring the greeting as she stepped into the room.
Benet, who was following close behind, answered quickly. "I will see to it that this room is as well-furnished as the floor below."
She spoke as if she were the one in charge.
Between the maids ignoring her and the Grand Duchess’s sudden appearance in the West Annex, Marzella realized something was very wrong. It seemed the Grand Duchess had taken it upon herself to grant the maids access to the parlor.
Marzella lifted her chin defiantly. "Your Highness, this is the head maid’s private lounge. The other maids have their own lounge on the floor below."
"I'm aware. But the space downstairs is far too small for the number of maids we have, isn't it?" the Grand Duchess said, turning to Marzella with a casual air. "So, starting today, this room will also be used as a general lounge."
Marzella swallowed her fury as she watched the maids gaze at the Grand Duchess’s dress with admiration.
"...With all due respect, Your Highness, this is where I interview staff and issue orders. It is a space essential to the head maid’s duties."
As Marzella explained this in a calm, lecturing tone, the Grand Duchess tilted her head.
"Doesn't the head maid's quarters already have a parlor?"
Marzella froze.
"Your room, I mean. Don't you have a separate bedroom, parlor, and even a study? Those rooms were given to you specifically so you could conduct interviews and issue orders, just as you said."
Marzella was speechless—not because she had no answer, but because she was bursting with indignation. A suite with a parlor was a right she naturally deserved as the head maid.
"I heard this place was originally a lounge for all the maids. By whose authority did you decide to occupy it for yourself?"
"It was within my authority as head maid..." Marzella’s voice trailed off, trembling.
She felt truly wronged. Whitley, the head butler, had an entire small cottage to himself within the castle grounds. It was a starkly different level of treatment. To her, the excuse that the head butler had served the Grand Duchy his entire life was just that—an excuse. She, too, had dedicated many years to Blenheim.
"I believe I told you before," the Grand Duchess said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "The management of this household falls under my authority as Grand Duchess. Since you insist on questioning my every word, I’m starting to wonder who the master is here. It would be better to relieve you of that burden so you don't make any more mistakes. Cecilia?"
As soon as she finished speaking, a lady-in-waiting stepped forward and held out her hand to Marzella.
"Hand over the castle keys."
No one in the room misunderstood the weight of those words. The maids sitting in the parlor, as well as those who had gathered in the hallway to watch the spectacle, held their breath.
Marzella’s body shook. The ring of keys—controlling the main castle's important rooms, passages, and food stores—was the symbol of household authority. It was her pride, something she never let leave her side.
But she had no grounds to refuse a direct order.
Finally, Marzella pulled the heavy ring of keys from her belt. The lady-in-waiting took them coldly and handed them to the Grand Duchess.
"Benet."
The Grand Duchess held the keys up for all the maids to see before calling Benet forward. She handed the keys to her.
The watching maids' eyes widened. In an instant, the core of the power Marzella had monopolized for so long had changed hands.
"Take care of the matters we discussed and bring them back to me. And make sure proper chairs are brought in here."
Benet bowed respectfully and withdrew with the keys, showing no outward sign of triumph.
"Are... are you dismissing me as head maid?"
"Why would I dismiss you?" the Grand Duchess asked, looking at Marzella as if the question were absurd.
Marzella couldn't bring herself to say Benet’s name, but she glared in her direction. Following her gaze, the Grand Duchess tilted her head slightly.
"Benet is merely acting as my proxy to carry out my instructions. I can't exactly run around carrying a heavy ring of keys myself, can I?"
"I... I don't understand." Marzella truly couldn't wrap her head around it.
"Is my meaning that difficult to grasp?"
At that, the lady-in-waiting standing behind the Grand Duchess blinked mockingly. "Not at all. You were perfectly clear, Your Highness. Anyone could understand."
"You will continue to hold your position as head maid. You are free to offer your opinions whenever you like. Just don't forget that I am the one who makes the decisions," the Grand Duchess said with a bright smile.
But as Marzella looked at the bewildered faces of the other maids, she knew they were all thinking the same thing.
Benet was performing the duties as the Grand Duchess's proxy?
Wasn't the person who performed that role usually called the head maid?