The Hero Wears a Maid Uniform

"So, what am I supposed to do now?"

"In one week's time, on the young master's birthday, I mean to present you as a gift."

A birthday present. Of all the things I thought this life would make of me. Honestly, wasn't becoming a birthday present harder than being the Hero?

"I'm sorry the grace period is only a week, but we'll have to start your training today."

"That's fine by me. Drawing seven million bel and then taking the day off would feel a little..."

Money enough to make not working the harder of the two. Revenge was revenge, but I ought to earn what I was paid.

"Ho ho. A fine attitude. Wait just a moment, then."

With that the Head Steward slipped beyond the reach of my Sense, and a short while later he returned with what I took for clothing laid over his arm.

"A maid's uniform. Change in the dressing room just ahead, and come back out."

"A maid's uniform...?"

I mean... I was a maid, technically. Except I wasn't.

"Couldn't I wear a manservant's livery instead...?"

"Is something about it uncomfortable?"

"I'm not used to skirts yet."

If I had been, I wouldn't be a Hero. I'd be a suspect.

"Hmm..."

The Head Steward let out a thoughtful groan. For someone sold at a hundred million, I was starting to look awfully full of demands. Still—just this once. Please.

"Anything else I might allow, but that will be difficult."

"Wh-why?"

The same man who told me to leave a private room in his hands was refusing a simple change of clothes?

"Article 8, Clause 5 of the Blake family regulations. Manservants shall work in manservants' livery, and maids in maids' uniforms. It would be a violation."

Why did a clause like that even exist? Was there a statute against carrying a salmon in a suspicious manner, too?

"You'll be wearing it for years in any case. Better to make friends with it sooner, don't you think?"

"Understood..."

Right. Seven million bel. Even if I hadn't ended up in a body like this, offer me seven million bel to put it on and I still... wouldn't. Revenge was revenge, rules were rules, and if I had agreed to work as a servant, I had to keep them.

"If it's too hard to manage alone, just drape it over yourself and come out. I'll show you the way of it."

I nodded, took the clothes, and stepped into the dressing room. What I sensed inside was a long, thin panel spread wide along the wall—a mirror, most likely—and a row of cabinets. A faint dampness rose off the floor. The changing room of a bath, then?

I set the garments down and spread them out. A headband. A maid uniform. One thin slip of an undergarment, dress-like in the hand. Stockings. And, laid over those, a pair of shoes.

First I stripped off the passably worn clothes the slavers had put me in, pulled on the undergarment, drew the stockings up, then unfolded the maid uniform and lifted it. Before I died, I never imagined a day would come when I wore something like this. Come to think of it, I had died. I truly never thought I'd be putting it on afterward. How tearfully grateful of them.

If I ever went back, I would see the Demon King off in considerably more pain.

I ducked my head through the skirt, got the uniform on, wound the apron-sash around my waist, and knotted it behind me. One mercy of a Sense keener than eyes: I could check my own appearance without a mirror. Even my back. And if anyone asked how it felt to look at myself—like a child swallowed up in an adult's clothes that did not fit. Ordinary maids wore their hems to the knee. Mine fell to the calves. On top of that, it was miserably uncomfortable. How did maids do a day's work in things like this? I found myself respecting them all over again. Hero or maid, nothing about either came easy.

I set the headband on my head and slipped into the shoes. The frills fluttered so awkwardly, dress and band alike, that I missed the solid weight of my old armor and helm. I checked the shape of myself once more with the Sense, then stepped out. The hollow openness down my middle felt so strange that I pinched the hem and walked with extreme care, and the Head Steward turned, rubbing at the corner of his eye.

"It suits you remarkably well..."

"Th-thank you..."

Was that even a compliment? My head dipped of its own accord under the shame.

"It's the smallest size we have. Will you bear with it? Children grow quickly. It will fit before you know it."

"Yes. I'd rather this than something too small."

It was stifling enough already. If it had been tight on top of that...

"Ho ho. Thank you for saying so."

He spoke calmly, and yet, strangely, I felt a dampness at the corners of his eyes and in his voice.

"Then let us go to His Grace the Duke's office."

At his age, wasn't this just one of those changes? The way bladder control simply gave out. Having talked myself into a reasonable explanation, I set off down the hall at the Head Steward's back.

As we walked, the drafty, unfamiliar feeling never settled, and I couldn't keep the Sense open through it, so I took the Head Steward's hand and let him lead me all the way to the office.

Knock, knock.

"It's the Head Steward."

"Come in."

I never heard a latch turn, but I did hear the door open. Had I missed it? I tilted my head, puzzled, and a moment later the Head Steward drew me inside.

"A little large, but it suits you."

"Doesn't it?"

"Thank you..."

They knew exactly who I was, and they were teasing me, weren't they? The vicious part ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was that it wasn't open mockery. It was praise. From their side it was only a compliment, so thank you was all I could say.

"Sit, then."

I barely managed to open the Sense, but the distance must have been considerable. Several steps on I still couldn't feel a thing, and I was starting to flounder when—

"Here. This way."

In the end the Head Steward's hand guided me down into a seat. Relying on the Sense too much would not do either. Even with it, I was still blind. I needed to grow used, at least somewhat, to a blind person's way of moving through the world.

"As I thought, if we don't extend the range, it will interfere with the work. Is there a way?"

"To expand it in earnest, training is the only path... but I'm still learning the sense itself, so up to a certain point it ought to grow quickly."

I'd been using it hard all day. By tomorrow it might have stretched quite a bit. Once I woke every sense I had, I imagined the radius might reach five meters—and with a young body, picking it up would be faster still.

"We'll proceed on that understanding, then."

Elouis nodded and held out a round object, and something I took for paper.

"A pocket watch. Time matters, so keep it on you always."

"Yes."

The Sense was still clumsy, but I ought to be able to follow the movement of clock hands. I slipped the watch into the front pocket of the maid uniform.

"And this is the contract, and your schedule. Can you read them?"

"One moment..."

...This was still too much. If the Sense developed, I would be able to feel even the thinness of ink, but right now it was nothing but blank paper.

"It's too thin. I don't think I can, yet."

"Is that so. Later we'll lay the ink on thick and make you a fresh copy. For now I'll explain it aloud."

"All right."

"The basics are as you heard in the carriage."

Seven million bel...!!

"The finer points I'll pass along separately. First, the work itself. Head Steward, read the schedule on the paper, item by item."

"Yes. Six in the morning: rise."

"A chime sounds at six. You need only get up. Have breakfast if you need it."

"Seven in the morning: wake the young master."

"Exactly as it says. Wake Elaine at seven. Though... it may be a little difficult."

"You said she's ten, didn't you? Then I suppose it might be."

Children slept heavily in the morning.

"You are ten as well... Well. Continue."

"From then until eleven in the morning: discretionary duties."

"Elaine doesn't eat breakfast, so there is no fixed work in that stretch. The existing staff handle whatever needs doing. If she says she wants water, bring her water. If she says she wants to play, play with her."

"This doesn't feel like a maid. It feels like a slave."

"Now that I think of it, there isn't much difference... Still, you draw a wage, so maid is the correct term."

No rebuttal available.

"From eleven until twelve is the lunch hour. Escort her to the dining hall, then eat in the servants' hall yourself."

The Blake dining hall... My mouth watered. I had been curious once about what the servants ate and tried it, and an ordinary restaurant couldn't so much as offer a calling card beside it.

"From noon until five in the afternoon: free time."

"What? Five whole hours of free time? Add lunch and that's six hours of rest!"

"The first two hours are basic lessons—arithmetic, grammar, history, and the like. An hour's break in the middle. The last two are the heir's lessons. The existing staff will attend her anyway, so rest."

"B-but doesn't that fall inside the hours I'm being paid for? Just resting feels a little..."

Five hours off while taking that kind of money. I had decided to live selfishly, but wasn't this a step too far?

"Hm. In that case, you are nominally a bodyguard. What about training? Expanding your Sense, for instance."

"Even so, that would be time spent for my own sake..."

"For a knight, hours of training are important work as well. A guard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is no different."

"...Yes. Understood."

For the revenge, and for the rest of the work, I needed to cultivate the Sense anyway.

"From five until six in the evening: dinner."

"The same as lunch. Bring her only as far as the dining hall."

"At this rate that's seven hours of rest! You're not pitying me because I'm blind, are you?"

Seven hours of nothing but rest while collecting seven million bel. I might not be a Hero anymore, but I was no thief!

"No. It isn't that. This work did not need to exist in the first place. Elaine pestered until it was created. Cause and effect, nothing more."

"But..."

"If your employer says it is fine, what does it matter?"

It mattered to me! The debt kept piling up. At this rate, weren't they deliberately standing in the way of my revenge?

"All right..."

"From six in the evening until ten: discretionary duties."

"The same as the morning."

"Ten in the evening: put the young master to bed."

"What kind of duty is that, exactly...?"

Was I supposed to sing her a lullaby?

"Elaine dislikes sleeping alone. Stay with her until she falls asleep."

"So I'm a slave and a wet nurse."

"A ten-year-old wet nurse. Novel, I'll grant you. In any case, that is the end of it. Finish by eleven and sleep."

"Isn't this... not much of anything?"

"You may come to regret those words."

I had played with children plenty at the orphanage. It had been hard, but there was satisfaction in it, and it had not been that hard.

"If you have further requests, I'll hear them now."

Requests.

"I already told the Head Steward, but I'd like a private room."

"That will proceed at the Head Steward's discretion."

Private room, confirmed.

"And I'd like a sword prepared. Please advance it against my wages."

"A sword is necessary for a guard. We could simply provide one."

"I don't want to take on any more debt."

Sold for a hundred million, easy work, high pay... I couldn't owe anything further. And I could not stab someone with a sword I was in debt for.

"Very well. I'll see about finding one in the range of five million bel, and hand it over at Elaine's birthday party."

Five million bel ought to buy a decent sword. I nodded.

"Thank you. Then, last of all—may I use the knights' training yard, or the drill field?"

"I'll put it to the knight captain. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Even this much is more than I deserve."

After that last word a brief stillness settled, and then came the sound of fingers tapping. A habit of Elouis's, when he was thinking.

"Then I have a request of my own."

"A request? I'm a slave. Of course I'll do it."

"No. It's nothing much. When it is only the Head Steward, or only myself, it doesn't matter—but when others are present, speak with proper respect."

"Ah... Have I been too rude?"

As a Hero, in the name of equality for all, I had used the same easy polite register with everyone, and it had hardened on my tongue. I was not a Hero anymore. I was a servant, or a slave, and honorifics were in order. Thank goodness Elencia was missing. If they had told me to use them with him, I would have bitten my tongue on the spot.

"No. Less because it is rude, and more for your sake."

"For mine?"

What was he talking about?

"Most of the servants are nobles. Aside from royalty, a duke is the highest nobility there is, and if a commoner addressed him too familiarly, they might take it as contempt for themselves."

True enough. Even in my days as the Hero, there were people who scorned me for being a commoner. What would they make of a maid of slave rank?

"Understood."

"There is no need to begin already. The Head Steward in particular—treat him as you please."

"Ho ho ho..."

"All right."

"And hide the Sense from other people."

"Why? Won't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that only make me look more suspicious?"

"Simply possessing an unusual technique like that draws eyes. Someone may pester you to teach them, just the once."

That was true. In my Hero days, people had chased me without end, begging for a lesson. My comrades had dealt with the same. Thinking back, Elencia had been a little better about it—if you belonged to the royal guard, most of them came looking for me anyway.

"Even so, it isn't something I need to hide, is it?"

A nuisance, maybe. But did I really have to conceal it?

"Few people even know a thing like the Sense exists, and among those who do, the one most famous for it is the traitor Luines. Your name and your looks could stir needless controversy, so better to keep it hidden. That is why I spoke where the servants who came out to meet you could not hear."

"Then what do I say, about what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can perceive with it?"

"Simply say your other senses are exceptional. You are blind. They will accept it readily enough."

Lying... enough of that. Better to lie outright than be misunderstood for nothing.

"All right."

"You may go, then. And, Head Steward—if you don't mind, I would like you to show this child around the estate. She will need it memorized within the week."

"Yes. I'll see to it."

"My thanks."

"Then we will take our leave."

"Go on. And Ruanes—return here tomorrow at seven."

"Yes."

The Head Steward and I bowed and stepped outside.

By what was probably sunset, I had been shown around the grounds and come back with the Head Steward to the fork that led toward the lodgings.

"Do you think you can remember it?"

"Yes. My Sense still doesn't reach far, so I don't have the whole of it, but I've memorized everywhere a path runs."

I had visited often enough before. I already knew the rough layout. I simply couldn't see far, and had to go by the paths alone, and that was what made it confusing.

"Ho ho. Sharp as a tack. I'll be going, then. Your room is ready—ask the attendant in the central hall."

"Yes. Thank you so much for today. But..."

"What is it?"

"Is it all right for you to be away from your post this long?"

He had looked after no one but me since morning. Was that really fine? When I had come before, he had seemed terribly busy.

"No need to worry. Today is my day off."

"Your day off?! Then because of me, for nothing..."

At his age he ought to have been resting, and here I had gone and—

"Ho ho, no. I did it because I wanted to. Looking at you, I keep thinking of my granddaughter."

Now that I thought of it, he was the sort who boasted of that granddaughter without end. My mind might be otherwise, but the body was a girl's, and it must have tugged at him.

"I've been terribly rude."

"No, no. An old man with nothing to do had quite a pleasant day. May I keep relying on you, from here on?"

"..."

A voice full of pleasure, and of fondness. From here on... I ought to say it was impossible. A Hero must not lie.

"Of course... I'll be in your care..."

But I was not a Hero. For my revenge, to fill my own desires, I could lie as freely as I pleased. This was not a lie I told because I could never betray that smile, nor because I could not turn away from the sorrow held inside it. I meant to live for myself, and so this was a lie for myself alone.

And so I smiled.