Watch Your Mouth Outside
Chief Maid Martha had worn the look of a headache since morning. As befitted the woman who oversaw every maid in the Imperial Palace, the ledgers and reports still awaiting her hand lay stacked upon the desk like a mountain.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
Martha said it without so much as lifting her eyes from the papers.
At the threshold, Celine folded her hands neatly before her.
"It's Celine. I've come because there is something I must tell you."
"What is it?"
"Well..."
The words would not come. Celine fidgeted with her fingers, then clenched them hard into a fist.
"Chief Maid."
Only then did Martha raise her head.
"Speak."
Celine drew a short breath.
"I wish to quit."
The scratching of the pen nib stopped. Martha's eyes turned to her.
"...What?"
"I wish to resign my post as a palace maid."
For a long moment Martha said nothing at all. Then, slowly, she set the pen down.
"The reason?"
Celine's lips went stiff. She had prepared any number of excuses in advance—her health was poor, she had family to look after, palace life did not seem to suit her. She could have dressed it up however she liked. But faced with Martha, her mouth would not open.
"...I don't think I'll be able to keep working in the palace from now on."
Martha's expression shifted, subtly.
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
This time the answer came at once.
"Are you confident you won't regret it?"
Celine hesitated. A palace maid's post was, without question, a good one. The wages were high, and room and board came with it. For a girl out of an orphanage, it was a rarer place still. To say she did not begrudge giving it up would have been a lie.
But.
"Yes."
She answered firmly.
Martha studied her face for a long while.
"Write a letter of resignation. I'll send it up."
She drew a sheet of paper from the drawer.
"As a rule, if there is no particular problem, it is accepted."
At those words, a very little of the tension slipped from Celine's shoulders.
"Thank you."
"However."
Celine's heart dropped with a thud.
"In your case, it may take some time."
"W-why?"
"You aren't without a guess as to the reason, are you."
Martha did not speak the name. Celine understood at once all the same.
The Emperor.
The moment those words rose in her mind, the color drained from her face.
Martha sighed.
"Don't be frightened. I don't mean that I intend to keep you from leaving."
"......"
"I'm saying that is how the procedure works."
Celine nodded, strengthless.
How much does she know?
That the Emperor had summoned her twice? The state she had come back in last night? Or something beyond even that?
"Bring the resignation by noon."
"Yes."
"And."
Just as Celine turned to go, Martha called her back.
"Celine."
"Yes?"
"Whatever happened to you."
Martha chose her next words with care.
"Watch your mouth outside."
The tips of Celine's fingers trembled, faintly.
"...I understand."
She bowed her head and left the room.
"Whaaat?!"
Anne's voice shook the whole dormitory. Celine hurriedly pressed a finger to her lips.
"Shh! Keep it down!"
"How am I supposed to keep it down!"
Anne looked ready to launch herself off the bed.
"You're really quitting?"
Laura, seated across from them, wore a face that could not believe what it was hearing.
"Celine, is it true?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You're not joking?"
"I said I'm not."
Anne closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead. On her knees, Celine fidgeted with her fingers.
"I told the Chief Maid this morning. She said she'd submit the resignation for me."
"You..."
Anne started to say something, then shut her mouth. Her expression was a tangle.
"Why are you quitting?"
At that, Celine was silent for a long while.
Because of what the Chief Maid had told her. And even if those words had never been spoken, she still would not have told them. She trusted her friends, but she could not imagine any good coming of speaking ill of the Emperor to anyone else.
"It's just..."
Celine forced a smile.
"I don't think I can keep living in the palace from now on."
"Celine."
Laura asked it carefully.
"Is it because of Her Majesty?"
Celine's shoulders flinched. That small reaction was enough. Laura's face hardened, and Anne pressed her lips tight shut. Celine shook her head in a hurry.
"Don't ask."
"......"
"I'm sorry, but for now, just don't ask."
The usual Anne would have dug until she had it out of her. This time she did not.
"All right."
She dropped onto the edge of the bed, all the strength gone out of her, and went on in a small voice.
"Send a letter at least once a month."
"Okay."
"Twice."
"Didn't you just say once?"
"I just changed it."
Celine let out a small breath of a laugh.
After that she went about her duties as usual. The resignation had not been processed yet.
A few days ought to do it.
Her steps were the lightest they had been in some time.
Then she saw several maids gathered up ahead.
"I'm telling you, it's true."
"Really?"
In that instant the conversation cut off dead.
"......"
"…..."
Their eyes turned to Celine. She slowed her steps a little, wondering whether they had something to say to her.
What is it?
But no one actually spoke. Only a strange gaze clung to her as she passed, and only after she had gone by did the whispering start up again behind her.
"That's her, right?"
"Shh."
"But is she really quitting?"
"That's what I heard..."
Celine glanced back. The maids were pretending to talk of something else, as if nothing at all had happened. The sidelong looks, though, had not gone anywhere.
Has a rumor gotten out?
It was not especially strange. She had been summoned to the Emperor's Bedchamber twice, and last night she had run into another maid in the corridor. Celine herself knew how much of a wreck she had looked then. On top of that, this morning she had suddenly announced that she was quitting. If people strung the pieces together however they pleased, the story could become anything at all.
She let out a long breath. Her mood was far from good, but she had no mind to pick a fight over it.
I'm leaving anyway.
In a few days they would be people she would never see again. Whatever they said, it did not matter. Thinking so, she went on to her work.
A little past afternoon, a summons came down from the Chief Maid. Certain it had to do with the resignation she had submitted that morning, Celine went straight to Martha's office.
Has it already been processed?
It did seem a little early. But if things had moved faster than she expected, that was good news. She went in carrying that hope, and Martha said something she had not expected at all.
"About your resignation."
"Yes."
Celine answered with a tense face. Martha glanced once at the document lying on the desk, then spoke.
"It cannot be processed yet."
"...What?"
Bewilderment spread across Celine's face. Before she knew it, her voice had gone urgent.
"Did I fill something out wrong? If so, I'll redo it right away—"
"It isn't that."
Martha cut her off.
"Lord Hartmann has asked to see you himself."
Celine's mouth closed.
"...Lord Hartmann?"
"Yes."
Martha went on, watching her reaction.
"He says that before he approves the resignation, he wishes to speak with you directly."
The moment she heard it, the hope that had been rising until a breath ago vanished all at once. In its place settled an anxiety she could not easily name.
Hartmann. Edwin Hartmann.
There was no chance Celine did not know that name. She knew it too well, and that only made her more uneasy. He was the high official who had come to her each time and ordered her to present herself at the Emperor's Bedchamber.
She swallowed dryly.
"Have I done something wrong?"
"I don't know exactly what he means to say. I was only told that there is something he wishes to confirm with you in person before the resignation is processed."
Celine's expression hardened. The first thought that came was that this was because she had been summoned by the Emperor. No other reason occurred to her.
"Should I go see him now?"
"Yes."
Martha nodded.
"You know the Office of the Minister of Internal Affairs?"
"Yes."
"Go straight there."
Celine rose.
"I understand."
When she stepped out the door, her footsteps were far heavier than when she had come in.
Until just now she had believed that once the resignation was processed, everything would be over. She would quit properly and leave the palace. She had trusted that it was that simple a matter. Think as she might, only one answer came to mind.
The Emperor. In the end, it was that person again.
Celine made her way slowly toward the palace's administrative wing, where the Minister of Internal Affairs kept his office. Before long she stood before a door with that name written upon it.
Minister of Imperial Internal Affairs
No one who worked in the Imperial Palace could fail to know the name. Celine, of course, knew his face as well as his name. She had recognized who he was from the very first time he stopped her, which was why she had bowed her head all the more hastily.
Thinking back, it was a strange thing. A man of the rank of the Empire's Minister of Internal Affairs had come in person to deliver the Emperor's command to a mere maid—and not once, but twice. At the time the shock of being summoned by the Emperor had been so great she had never thought to question it, but looking back now, it was by no means an ordinary matter.
Celine stared at the firmly shut office door. Having come this far, she could not turn back.
Knock, knock.
"Enter."
The voice came from within as if it had been waiting. She took hold of the handle and steadied her breath once.
It's all right. This is only about the resignation.
Soothing herself with that, she opened the door.
A desk stood in the middle of the wide office, and behind it sat a familiar man. In his right hand was the paper Celine had written that morning.
"You're here."
Celine bowed her head at once.
"You called for me."
"Sit."
He indicated the chair opposite with a tilt of his chin. Celine hesitated a moment, then perched carefully on the edge of the seat. Hartmann looked her over once and went straight to the point.
"I'll be direct."
Celine's shoulders stiffened a little. Hartmann set the resignation he had been holding down upon the desk.
"I recommend that you not give up your work as a palace maid."
Her shoulders went rigid. It was something she had expected, to a degree, and yet hearing it outright dried her mouth.
"I... forgive me, but I wish to quit."
Hartmann did not answer at once. He only stared straight at her. The longer that gaze went on, the more she felt, for no good reason, as if she had given the wrong answer. At length he leaned back in his chair and let out something like a sigh.
"Well. I can roughly guess the reason. Are you afraid of Her Majesty?"
"......"
Celine did not answer. She kept her head lowered, looking only at the hem of her skirt. But that was enough.
"I thought as much."
Hartmann was not surprised to have the reaction confirmed. He was calm, as if he had known the answer from the start.
"Quitting is your freedom. I have no intention of tearing up the resignation or holding you by force. But to speak frankly, I doubt that choice will mean as much as you expect."
Celine slowly raised her head.
"What do you mean, my lord?"
"If this paper is processed, you will no longer be a palace maid. You will return your pass, take off the uniform, and be free to leave the palace. But does that also put an end to the matter that lies between Her Majesty and you?"
Celine opened her mouth and could not get a word out. Hartmann went on.
"Are you certain the reason you are summoned by Her Majesty is that you are a palace maid? The moment you cease to be one, do you imagine Her Majesty will forget you neatly—decide that you are no longer hers, and so she ought to lose interest?"
"That's..."
Startled, Celine opened her mouth to argue.
"Even so, I can't stay here."
"Then there is, of course, the option of going out and seeing for yourself."
Hartmann conceded the objection lightly. When the flustered Celine only blinked, he continued as if nothing were amiss.
"If, after you leave the palace, Her Majesty forgets you, that would be the best outcome. If not, you will learn that you were mistaken. I simply wonder whether you truly need to confirm that in person."
When he had finished, Hartmann tapped the edge of the desk lightly with one finger.
"Which is why I called you. I mean to make you a better proposal than that."
At those words, wariness rose across Celine's face.