4. The Maid
A few days after the decision was made, Emily began working as a maid in the Belpharos baron's household.
On her first day, when she arrived at the mansion carrying a small bundle of her clothes in a travel bag, Sarah, the head maid, greeted her warmly. Emily was given a neat brown dress—the standard maid's uniform—along with a brown cap that neatly covered her hair. It was slightly different from the all-black attire worn by Sarah and the other maids, marking a distinction.
As soon as Emily accepted the clothes, Sarah spoke up quickly.
"Normally, a noble household would have anywhere from a dozen maids down to three or four at the least, but the Belpharos family is quite modest. There's Lotte, who serves the madam, and you, assigned to the young lady—that's it, just the two of you. So from now on, Emily, you'll follow orders from Lotte and me. Understood? As a maid, but since we're short-handed, you'll handle some housemaid duties too. Of course, it'll only be tasks related to the young lady."
"Yes."
Sarah led Emily to the second-floor inner quarters. In one corner were four narrow, worn doors in a row, starkly different from the others. Sarah stopped at the third one and pulled a key from her waist.
Opening the door released a musty smell of dust. Sarah handed the key to Emily.
"The previous supervisor wasn't a noble, so she didn't hire any maids or manservants—just servants and housemaids. These rooms for the inner staff haven't been used in ages, so they'll need a good cleaning to be livable. The first room across the way is Lotte's. She'll come by soon to teach you your duties. Leave your bag here."
Emily looked around the room. Opposite the door was a window, and between them stood a bed, a wardrobe, and a pair of armchairs in front of a side table—that was all. Even so, the furniture was far more elegant than anything in her old home back in Exangciras, and the room itself was spacious and sturdy.
"You'll want to start with cleaning right away. But first, we need to pay respects to the madam and the young lady. Change into your uniform."
Under Sarah's watchful eye, Emily quickly shed her shirt and pants and slipped into the maid's dress. Tying the cap like a headband at the back made her look reasonably tidy. Sarah beamed at the sight.
"My goodness, what a change. You looked like such a stiff little boy before. The dress brings out your girlish charm nicely. Your short hair's hidden under the bonnet anyway, so it works just fine."
Sarah studied Emily for a moment, then spoke with a thoughtful expression.
"You'll learn proper maid etiquette from Lotte, but let me go over some basic servant manners first."
Emily clasped her hands neatly in front of her and listened attentively.
"I'll teach you how to behave in front of the master of the house. First, never raise your voice in his presence. Second, if you encounter him in a hallway or passage, lower your head. Never meet a noble's gaze directly—it's rude. Third, when he speaks, stand still and listen without fidgeting. Answer any questions precisely. Fourth, no private chit-chat with other servants in his presence. And finally, if he calls from another room, go to him—don't shout back from afar. Got it?"
"Yes."
Emily replied promptly. Sarah smiled, satisfied.
"Good. Now follow me."
Emily followed Sarah's quiet footsteps as she led the way. Just like last time, rounding the corner revealed two large doors. Sarah stopped and explained.
"Nobles are different from us—even husbands and wives have separate rooms. Left is the baron's, right is the madam’s. Remember that."
Emily nodded. Sarah knocked, announced them, and a bell chimed permission to enter.
Inside the baroness's room were four people. On the long sofa by the bed sat the Baroness Eleanor Ikrit Belpharos and Olivier. Behind the sofa stood a middle-aged woman in a maid's dress—Lotte—and across the table, lounging arrogantly in a plush single armchair with his head tilted back and chin raised, was Olens, whom Emily remembered from the guest room. His cold, pale yellow eyes scanned her appraisingly. Their gazes met, and Emily quickly dropped hers to the floor.
"This is Emily, starting work today," Sarah introduced her to the room.
Emily curtsied gracefully, bending one knee.
The baroness watched the gesture and nodded slightly.
"Very good. You've had a long journey—well done. Treat us like family from now on; you'll learn the ropes in time. Lotte will show you the work. She's been my maid since my own girlhood days, sharp as a tack. Greet her."
"Hello."
Emily curtsied again as before. The baroness smiled.
"No need for such formality between maids, but she's your senior, so it's fine. What a cute little thing—she looks even better in the dress. Last time, she seemed like a total tomboy, but now she's presentable. Don't you think, Lotte?"
Lotte nodded and agreed swiftly, echoing the baroness. The baroness grinned widely.
"And... Olivier?"
The baroness called her daughter in a slow voice. Olivier's hands, clasped in her lap, trembled as she replied.
"Yes, Mother."
The baroness's arched brows turned toward her. "You said you had a special request for Emily?"
Olivier nodded slowly. She glanced anxiously at Olens before speaking.
"Emily."
Emily responded politely. "Yes, miss?"
Olivier hesitated, words hovering on her lips. After a long pause, she murmured in a trembling voice.
"...Lately, I've had insomnia—I can't sleep at all. For the time being, could you sleep in my room and help me? I wake up several times before dawn; stay by my side until I drift off again."
Once her daughter finished, the baroness gave Emily an awkward smile. "Can you manage that, Emily?"
Emily nodded courteously. "Yes, madam. And yes, miss."
A low scoff came from ahead—Olens.
"Good grief. You're not a child anymore—what's this nonsense, Olivier? Aren't you ashamed at fourteen?"
"...Age..."
Olivier muttered under her breath. Frowning at Olens's mocking stare, she spoke up again.
"I'm still thirteen... My birthday's in a week, but for now, I'm thirteen."
"Ha, want to stay a kid forever? Other ladies can't wait to grow up. You're one of a kind."
Olens snorted. Olivier bit her lip, swallowing her retort.
"Enough now. Olivier, take Emily and go over the basics with her. It'll be a lot for Lotte to teach a girl with no maid experience. But since you wanted her as your birthday gift, no helping it."
As soon as the baroness finished, Olivier shot up and hurried to Emily's side.
"Come on."
Emily curtsied quickly to the baroness and young master Olens, then followed as Olivier brushed past and headed out.
They walked down the hall a short way, then inward. At a spot where two doors faced each other across the corridor, Olivier stopped.
"This is my room." She pointed to the opposite door. "And across is my brother's. You know what that means... right?"
Emily nodded politely to Olivier's low, meaningful question.
Olivier's room was a miniature version of the baroness's—lavishly decorated. She gestured to the long sofa by the bed.
"Sleep there for now. If he knows you're here, he won't come in. He cares about appearances."
"Yes, miss."
Emily nodded. Olivier stared at her quietly, then looked away. A heavy silence settled between them.
After gazing at the sofa for a long moment, Olivier's lips parted and closed several times in hesitation. Finally, with resolve, she spoke.
"That day... you cleaned up after, didn't you?"
The incident in the guest room? Emily nodded silently in affirmation.
"...At first, I thought you were a boy, so I was mortified... couldn't obey him meekly. ...Wouldn't have changed the outcome anyway."
Embarrassed, Olivier turned abruptly and approached the window. Pacing as she stared outside, she murmured softly without turning.
"The next few days passed quietly—no rumors. When nothing leaked, I figured I could trust you."
Her shoulders trembled faintly. Olivier crossed her arms, gripping her elbows tightly to steady herself.
"...My brother's at Templton Academia. Only comes home for winter break... The fast ships between west and east continents are pricey. So just stay with me through this break. You can go back to your room after he leaves."
Slowly, Olivier turned from the window to face Emily. Feeling the sharp intensity of her gaze, Emily lifted her head to meet it. For a moment, they held each other's eyes.
Olivier's orange eyes—ruby red, like her mother's—pleaded desperately into Emily's sunken gray ones. She spoke again.
"...Will you do that for me?"
Emily nodded. "Yes, miss."
The tremor in Olivier's ruby eyes stilled at the answer, growing calm. She whipped her head back to the window, murmuring softly to the distance.
"...Thank you."