4. The Maid
“Killian and Evril are the same age as Olivier, born just a year apart, and Ilroy is Killian’s friend, right?”
“Yes, miss.”
As she hurried toward the entrance, Olivier confirmed the guests’ details. Emily nodded.
“Mother emphasized a dozen times how important it is to impress Sir Killian and Sir Ilroy on this visit. She even lent me her cherished sapphire earrings without hesitation, saying they’d go perfectly with this blue dress. You can tell she has high hopes. And not just Sir Killian—Sir Ilroy is the second son of the famous Roxenfield Count family in Ashtown, from a lineage that’s produced high imperial administrators for generations. On top of memorizing the complicated Templton noble roster, now I have to learn every noble house in Ashtown too. Life on the western continent is so harsh.”
Olivier fiddled with the sapphire earrings the baroness had given her that morning, her voice laced with complaint.
“But thanks to you, you got to wear those sapphire earrings you’ve always coveted. Just smile prettily when we get there. Everyone will fall for you.”
Emily soothed her with kind words. Buoyed by the encouragement, Olivier thrust her chin forward with newfound confidence and quickened her pace. From morning, she had adorned herself meticulously, and the result was flawless. Not only had her beauty blossomed lately, but the way she held her back straight and walked with poise was perfect too. Emily followed with a satisfied smile, proud to serve such a lovely young lady.
The elderly Baron Loren, who had come to visit today, had acquired the Soren Mine in Aujesiras—located west of the Siras Plains—a few months prior. With massive initial investments, he had overhauled the rundown facilities and hired a large workforce, launching his tenure as mine owner smoothly. Once the mine operations stabilized, he appointed a relative as overseer, freeing up his time and mind. Then, the baron and his wife turned to a pastime they knew well: high-society socializing, befitting their status as nobles.
With summer break underway, they had brought their grandchildren from the empire and drawn up a list of beneficial visits. Among them was Baron Belpharos’s household, which effectively guarded the mine on behalf of Count Mercier. Though they hadn’t originally planned to meet lower nobles of little nutritional value, he was the only nearby aristocrat who could aid future mine operations, so they had scheduled it.
By the time Olivier and Emily reached the entrance, the overseer’s servants had already lined up on either side to greet the guests. At the front stood the Baron and Baroness Belpharos. Olivier hurried to stand behind the baroness, and Emily pressed close behind Olivier, smoothing out the wrinkles in her lady’s dress from the walk.
There were three carriages: the largest, white one carried the baron and his wife; the black one following held accompanying family and guests; and the last carried the servants.
As the carriages halted before the entrance, the baron’s retainers swiftly disembarked from the rear one, rolling out a luxurious carpet before the white carriage and standing at attention around it. The white carriage door opened, and a footman assisted the baron and his wife as they descended slowly onto the carpet.
“It is an honor to see you again, Baron Loren.”
Straight-backed and haughty, Baron Belpharos bowed courteously to the baron and his wife. The baroness followed with noble etiquette, and Olivier did the same. The Lorens nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
At Baron Loren’s gesture to his footmen, the white carriage moved forward, and the black one took its place. The door opened, and two tall young men alighted first, followed by a tall woman in a shimmering apricot dress, who descended gracefully with a male servant’s aid. As she straightened, her apricot skirt fanned out over the carpet. Two maids hurried to her side, crouching to deftly arrange the train.
Finally, the three stood perfectly poised beside the baron and his wife. Peering over Olivier’s shoulder, Emily observed them closely.
The young man, stern-faced and the spitting image of the dignified, unyielding Baron Loren, was unmistakably Killian, his grandson. Beside him stood a pleasant-looking youth with gentle maroon eyes—Ilroy. At the end was a slender beauty with flowing orange-tinted hair, nearly as tall as the two young men beside her. She was Evril, whom the baroness had mentioned before.
The Loren family—from the baron and his wife to the grandchildren—all wore an air of insufferable arrogance. Killian especially, with his ash-brown hair, deep maroon eyes, and refined handsome features, had pale skin and firm lips that gave off an icy chill. His elegant suit and rigid posture exuded a solid, haughty presence—the very image of a noble heir.
Evril, tall for a woman like her brother, had long locks framing her smooth cheeks, her face radiating aristocratic grace. Not fragile or innocent beauty, but refined and elegant. Her eyes matched Killian’s quiet maroon hue, calm and steady. Her flawless skin was creamy pale, suiting the simple design of her dress. The straight line from her shoulders to her extended waist, paired with her height, projected an imposing, goddess-like aura.
As Emily admired Evril’s nobility, she felt an unfamiliar gaze upon her. She tried to ignore it at first, but curiosity won, and she glanced in its direction. Her eyes met deep maroon ones.
The cold, arrogant depths on that pale face stared at her silently. For a brief moment, Emily held the gaze. His expressionless eyes narrowed slightly, like a meticulous appraiser evaluating an object before him.
Emily snapped to her senses. He was a noble. Servants mustn’t meet nobles’ eyes or do anything to displease them. If she offended a guest, it would reflect poorly on House Belpharos—rumors of poor servant training. Startled, she bowed her head sharply, inwardly scolding herself, and fixed her eyes on the floor.
“We are truly honored by such distinguished guests. Please, come inside.”
Baron Belpharos bowed graciously to the baron and led them into the manor. The men entered first, leaving the baroness and Evril at the entrance with Baroness Belpharos.
“We’ve prepared the Lapsang tea you enjoyed last time. I hope that’s to your liking?”
The baroness approached with a smile. The elderly baroness replied warmly to her and Olivier.
“The Lapsang tea from your house last time had a fresh, smoky aroma unlike the aged ones I drank in Leisha. It was splendid. I look forward to the tea today as well.”
The baroness smiled, hands clasped politely. Her eyes shifted to Evril beside her, and the baroness noticed, opening her mouth to introduce.
“Evril, this is Baroness Belpharos, and beside her is her daughter, Miss Olivier.”
Evril curtsied gracefully, skirt spread, then lifted her chin elegantly to introduce herself to the baroness.
“I am Evril Crane Loren.”
Emily thought her voice and diction were utterly refined.
“Miss Evril, a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much. You’re as stunning as they say.”
Evril smiled with noble poise at the praise. The elderly baroness spoke fondly.
“She’s a Loren now, but soon it will be Kingston. Next autumn, when she turns seventeen, there’ll be a grand wedding at Bellin Square. We finished the betrothal this spring.”
At the baroness’s words, laced with quiet pride, the baroness exclaimed in surprise.
“That Kingston house?”
Emphasizing the name, the baroness drew a pleased arc with her wrinkled eyes and nodded slowly in affirmation.
“This generation’s Kingstons have but one son.”
The baroness’s face lit with admiration. She approached Evril, reaching out familiarly to take her hand. A flicker of unease crossed Evril’s face—nobles rarely grasped hands so intimately upon first meeting.
“It’s an honor to meet the future duchess. Miss Evril, we’re humbled to host such an exalted guest in our humble home, but we’ll do our utmost for your enjoyment. Please, come inside.”
The baroness held Evril’s hand and glanced at Olivier, who stepped beside the baroness with a gentle smile and guided them inside. As the baroness and Evril moved, their maids lifted the skirts slightly and followed. Emily, Lotte, and the other servants trailed behind into the manor.