Chapter 19
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 19
Translation: godsn
My hands and feet swelled up in the cold weather. Rubbing my reddened cheeks with my hands, I endured the chill. Whenever I returned home huddled like that, Father would greet me. That devil's spawn.
I never knew why he hit me. I grew accustomed to being beaten without reason. Curling into myself was the only resistance I could muster. Sometimes my younger siblings would try to stop that bastard Father and end up getting hit instead.
Only Alicia would glance at me then look away. She was the only one among my siblings who never got hit. Father doted on her, raising her carefully so her pretty face wouldn't get scarred. So he could sell her for the highest price someday. But Alicia didn't know that. That's why she could act so haughty.
Then, one by one, the hands that used to hold mine disappeared, and I became numb to both pain and sorrow. I didn't even need tears anymore. The moment I realized this about myself, I woke from the nightmare. After that, I couldn't sleep again.
I crouched in a corner. Leaning my head against the wall, I heard familiar groans. Closing my eyes, I let those faint sounds fill my ears.
Beyond that wall, he's fighting too. I find comfort in those sounds. Though he might be angry, sometimes when I wake from nightmares, I hear his groans. Rubbing my flushed cheeks against the cold wall, I let tears fall to push away the fear. I remind myself I'm not alone.
"Th-then, are you saying the Christopher family made you this way, Master?"
"Yes."
"Does Count Christopher know about this?"
"Ethan doesn't. It's more accurate to say he doesn't know yet."
I asked what he meant. I was so shocked I stumbled over my words, but the person in question remained utterly composed.
"It's just speculation. I don't have confirmation. That's why I wanted to ask. Whether my family truly made me this way."
"So did they give you an answer?"
"I didn't ask. I couldn't bring myself to ask."
"Why... why not?"
"Because my condition wasn't good."
I was speechless.
"He may not look it, but he's quite kind to his people. He couldn't bear to poke at my wounds when I was blinded and consumed by fear."
Only then did I understand why he'd been avoiding Ethan. But at the same time, I wondered—how do you know all this?
"Why haven't you told Count Christopher?"
"There's no reason I should."
Vincent lifted his eyelids. Though still cloudy, his emerald eyes staring into space seemed resolute.
"Some secrets are meant to stay secrets."
"......"
That ended our conversation. He fell silent, and I asked no more. A warning echoed in my heart that I shouldn't pry further. After that day, I never brought up that conversation again, and he never offered any additional explanation.
But that doesn't mean it's not terrifying. Closing my eyes, I feel with my entire body every night the terrifying weight resting on my hunched shoulders.
Secrets must remain buried.
What you've seen, pretend you haven't. What you've heard, pretend you didn't. Never speak of anything.
Recalling once more the conditions I must abide by to work here as a servant, I devoted myself entirely to attending my master today as well.
"Master, please wake up."
The round shape on the bed squirmed. But he didn't emerge. Though sensitive to presence, he must have noticed my entrance long ago. Frowning, I pulled back the sheets.
"You need to eat."
As his face was revealed, he scrunched it up in displeasure. But his entire face was drenched in sweat. He must have had nightmares last night and suffered through the darkness.
"After sweating so much through the night, you should wash up first."
By now, the musty stench that once filled the room had dissipated, and the number of objects scattered across the floor had decreased somewhat. Sunlight streaming into what was once a pitch-dark room had become a familiar daily sight. Lately, he had been eating properly and maintaining some semblance of a routine. Yet he remained uncooperative and deeply guarded when it came to being touched.
"Get out."
He clutched the edge of the sheet I'd pulled away. But I didn't back down either, tightening my grip on the sheet and holding firm.
"I've drawn a bath for you."
When I first arrived here, the idea of bathing him had been unimaginable. But through our strange tug-of-wars and gradual changes, I'd finally reached the point where I could demand he wash.
"Just piss off."
Vincent let out a deep sigh. Irritation laced his fingers as they tugged at the sheet. He seemed particularly out of sorts today.
"Let me help you."
"Like last time?"
"Th-that was... I'll go check the water temperature."
I retreated to the bathroom. I had no defense for the incident last time when I'd accidentally dropped him into the tub.
After pointlessly dipping my hand in to test the water and waiting a moment, I returned to find Vincent lying listlessly on the bed. When I carefully touched his body, he flinched. By now, I was used to this reaction and ignored it, lifting his limp arm over my shoulders. As I pulled him up, he rose from the bed and stepped down.
Despite his prickly words, he was oddly docile today. So I managed to guide him to the tub more easily than expected.
When I placed his hand on the tub's edge, he fumbled until he found his grip. I quickly moved to unbutton his top so he could wash comfortably, but he stopped my hand.
"I'll do it myself. Get out."
"Are you sure?"
Surprised by his unexpected compliance, I asked, and he nodded slowly as he began undressing. I stared blankly until, watching him shed his top and drop it to the floor, I finally snapped out of it.
What's gotten into him? I swiftly bent down to pick up the discarded sleep shirt. Just as he was about to remove his pants, he suddenly froze.
"If you don't leave now, I'll flip this tub over."
"Understood."
Tch. Clicking my tongue softly, I stood up, and Vincent's face darkened at the sound. Before he could say anything, I set out fresh clothes and quickly slipped out of the bathroom.
Then, for no reason, I exaggerated my footsteps—tap, tap—pretending to walk away. Gradually softening the sound, I stopped completely. Soon after, the sound of water reached me. He had entered the tub.
What's with him today? I expected him to overturn it at least two or three times.
Though baffled by his unusual cooperation, I focused on the tasks at hand. While he bathed, I needed to clean the room.
As always, I returned scattered items to their places, changed the bed linens, pillowcases, and sheets, then dusted every corner, swept the floor, and wiped down the furniture. Once the room was reasonably clean, I headed back to the bathroom with a sense of satisfaction.
Vincent had finished bathing and was changing. I grabbed a towel from the nearby dresser and dabbed at his dripping hair. To dry it faster, I briskly patted his head with the towel—and for once, he endured it quietly.
"I've changed the sheets. You can go lie down now."
Once his hair was somewhat dry, I took his arm and helped him up. Guiding his slow steps, I led him to the bed and sat him down. That's when I noticed his shirt buttons were misaligned.
"Guess I thought I dressed him well today," I chuckled softly and began redoing his buttons from the bottom up.
"Meal."
"Huh? Ah—ah, yes. The meal. I'll prepare it right away."
I hurried back to the door and returned with a silver tray. Holding it, I hesitated for a moment before kneeling before him and placing the tray on my lap. Scooping a spoonful of porridge, I brought it to his lips. Vincent obediently began eating.
Though he'd vomited once before, he was now finishing his bowl quite well. Pleased by this change, I watched him eat with warm satisfaction. Today too, he cleaned his bowl completely. Perhaps it would be alright to prepare food with small solid pieces now.
After finishing even his medicine, Vincent lay down on the freshly made bed. Pulling the sheets up to his neck, he turned toward the wall.
"Sleep now."
"Yes, I'll wake you at lunchtime."
Gathering the laundry and empty dishes with satisfaction, I left the room.
"The master's been eating well lately."
"Yes, he finished everything again today."
I showed the empty bowl to the cook, who sniffled tearfully in response. A kitchen maid helping him joined our conversation cheerfully.
"Maybe we can start serving rice grains now."
"I'll prepare something heartier tomorrow!"
Nodding, I left the kitchen and went outside the annex to wait for Lenika.
But today she wasn't alone—Isabella was with her.
"The master's condition seems to have improved recently."
"Yes, he's eating properly now, and even bathes himself. He still throws things and has outbursts, but much less than before. Last time, he even briefly got out of bed and walked around—just for a moment."
I spoke the last part clearly but quietly enough that only Isabella could hear, also mentioning how he'd taken a single step outside his room. Remembering Isabella's shocked expression at that news—though characteristically restrained, the arching of her eyebrows betrayed her surprise.
"That's remarkable progress. You've worked hard. Please continue as you have been."
"Yes."
After this brief exchange with Isabella, I approached Lenika. She took the laundry basket from me and handed me another basket containing fresh sheets and clothes. We exchanged greetings before I returned inside the annex.
With the master being cooperative today, I had more free time than expected. Usually, our struggles would eat up hours, leaving me utterly exhausted after a whole day of wrestling with him—too tired to even think about exploring the annex. So today was actually my first proper look around.
The annex interior was generally tidy. I'd heard that maids from the main building came at scheduled times to clean. That's why, as Isabella had explained shortly after my arrival, I only needed to focus on the master—no other cleaning duties.
Thus my cleaning area was limited to the master's room alone. Moreover, my quarters were right next to his, and the only places I frequented were the kitchen for meals and the back door for laundry exchanges.
"So this is what it's like," I marveled, craning my neck to take in the impossibly high ceilings and vast interior that one couldn't possibly explore in a day. Everything was new and fascinating to me.
As I climbed the grand central staircase, I examined each framed portrait lining the walls one by one.