Chapter 59
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 59
Translation: godsn
"I can't! I can't take it anymore!"
Alicia, who had been venting her frustrations nonstop, finally yanked the cloth wrapped around her head and threw it to the ground. I glanced at her briefly before returning to my work.
With the five most expensive loaves of bread I'd bought from the baker using the string money, I'd managed to scrape by for a few days. During that time, I was lucky enough to find another job—cleaning manure in a livestock barn. Desperate for any work, I'd snatched up the opportunity without hesitation. I even dragged Alicia along, unwilling as she was, just to earn a single penny more, and this was the attitude she gave me.
"I said I can't do it!"
"Then don't. Go ahead and starve."
"......"
The conclusion was simple. Alicia glared at me with beady eyes, but I ignored her and kept shoveling the piles of animal waste in front of me into the cart. The vast barn housed all sorts of animals, and the amount of dung they produced was staggering. No matter how much I scooped and dumped, there seemed to be no end to it. And the stench was unbearable. By the end of the day, the smell of manure clung to my body so thickly it practically vibrated in the air.
A young foal approached me and began relieving itself. Alicia gasped in horror, but I calmly placed the shovel beneath it. Every time I transferred the accumulating waste to the cart, Alicia mimed gagging.
"Why is it always something like this every time you drag me along?!"
"Because this is all there is."
"Don't lie! I know there are decent jobs out there!"
"This is the only thing you're capable of doing."
"Are you looking down on me?! With my looks and this figure, what couldn't I do?!"
"Your head's completely empty, though."
Alicia shrieked, demanding to know what I meant, but I ignored her. I was already exhausted, and her constant whining only made it worse. Making no effort to hide my irritation, I went back to shoveling—only for Alicia to suddenly grab the back of my head. Again. At this point, the sharp pain was almost familiar.
"Say that again! Say it again, I dare you!"
"Let go."
"How dare you look down on me?! Someone like you—!"
"I said let go."
But Alicia didn't loosen her grip. Sighing, I calmly swung the shovel in her direction. The manure piled on it flew up and splattered all over her. Screaming, she finally released my hair.
"Aaaah!"
Flailing, Alicia stumbled backward and landed squarely on a fresh pile of dung. She shrieked and tried to scramble away, but the damage was already done. Her hands, her clothes—everything was smeared with filth. As she took in her state, her face twisted into a tearful grimace.
"You wicked bitch! You vile wench!"
"Then why pick a fight with a wicked, vile wench?"
"I won't let you get away with this! Just you wait!"
"Sure. Channel that determination into shoveling this mess faster."
I scooped up another load of manure and deliberately swung it toward her as I dumped it into the cart. Alicia shrieked and bolted. It was almost funny how she scurried away like it was something terrifying. Shrugging, I went back to shoveling.
After a while, something caught my eye—a torn piece of newspaper buried in the dung. A large photograph fluttered in the wind as I absentmindedly skimmed the headline. My eyes gradually widened.
I quickly snatched up the newspaper and read the printed words. By the time I reached the last line, my hand dropped limply to my side. My vacant gaze drifted into empty space.
[...
Announcement of the Princess' s Engagement. The Partner: Count Bellunita?]
That was the headline of the article I'd just read. Below it, in a prominently displayed photograph, a man and woman stood side by side, arms linked. Though taken from a distance, the blurred face was unmistakably familiar. Of course it was. It was a face I'd spent all day staring at five years ago.
"Vincent Bellunita."
A name I hadn't spoken aloud in so long.
The man who remained as nothing but longing.
This was the first news I'd heard of him in five years.
I'd known about his broken engagement with Violet. Back when I worked at the bread factory, the women there would often chatter about upper-class gossip they'd picked up from who-knows-where. Among those tidbits, there had occasionally been news about them. While there weren't many updates about the Bellunita family, one story I'd heard was about Vincent's broken engagement.
I'd wondered if the engagement annulment might just be a baseless rumor, but now I'd confirmed the truth with my own eyes.
I stared holes into Vincent's image in the photo. Though his face was blurred, making his exact expression unclear, I somehow got the impression he was smiling. But the first thing that came to mind was his eyes.
What about his eyes? I think he mentioned there was a way to fix them back then—did he get them treated? Or are they still the same? At least he's not cooped up in his room anymore. Whatever else might be going on, it's clear he's living well.
'I'll bring you to my side. Without fail.'
"All talk, no action."
That bastard, is he really that happy?
Engaged to the Princess, so of course he's grinning ear to ear. No doubt about that smile. I crumpled his face in my hands. The smiling face became a mass of wrinkles. I kept glaring at it before smoothing it back out slightly.
"Well, if he's doing fine, that's good."
Honestly, I'm in no position to be angry. We weren't in any kind of relationship where I could yell at him for being terrible. What was I to him? Just the only maid who attended to him, so he humored me. Not the kind of bond where he'd go looking for me if I disappeared. He did say he was sending me away for my own sake, but there was no reason for him to track me down if that maid vanished midway. In fact, he might have even known why I disappeared so suddenly.
"But still, a man ought to keep his word once he's said it. 'Stay by my side,' 'I'll protect you,' 'I won't abandon you.' So easy to say. This is why Nobles are the way they are."
I ended up parroting the same phrase the women I worked with always had on their lips—'This is why Nobles are the way they are.' I let out another deep sigh, just as Emily walked in, her eyes widening comically.
"Did something happen?"
"Ah, no. Nothing."
"But that—"
Her gaze landed on the crumpled newspaper in my hand. Realizing my mistake, I quickly smoothed it out. Seeing the same torn article from the stables here made it finally sink in—that this was real. And before I knew it, anger had me crumpling the paper again.
"I—I'm sorry. What do I do?"
"It's an old issue, so don't worry. But be more careful, alright? Did you finish the transcriptions?"
"Yes, here."
As I handed her the letters, Emily checked them over and smiled in satisfaction. She didn't hold back her praise, saying I'd done well. I smiled sheepishly and ducked my head.
This place looked like an ordinary house from the outside, but here, I earned wages doing transcriptions. Sometimes I copied books, sometimes love letters, and occasionally newspapers. Being literate was useful like this. Thanks to it, I could work comfortably seated inside a safe building.
"These Young Ladies these days are adorable, aren't they? Saying their handwriting isn't pretty enough and requesting transcriptions just to get replies written for their letters."
"They are."
"Have you ever gotten requests like that?"
Emily grinned mischievously. I avoided her gaze, fumbling with the pen nib as I forced a smile.
"I have. Not love letters, though."
"Oh? With a man?"
"Yes. With a man."
"Must've been nice."
Emily gave my shoulder a playful nudge. I couldn't say anything. It hadn't been anything significant enough to judge as good or bad. Only in hindsight did I realize the feelings behind those insignificant letters, and it made me sad.
Remembering that time brought my mood down again. Because of the newspaper I'd just seen.
I shook my head, brushing off the pointless thoughts.
"By the way. With the recent increase in work, it seemed too much for you alone, so I've found someone new. You'll be working together from now on."
"Okay."
"They should be here soon."
True to Emily's words, a light knocking soon came at the door. She cheerfully smiled and went downstairs. Shortly after, the sound of the door opening was followed by boisterous voices. I pricked up my ears at the noise and gazed out the window.
Two sets of footsteps approached, and the door opened. My gaze automatically turned toward the entrance.
"Here, say hello. This is the person you'll be working with from now on."
"......"
"......"
Emily introduced the newcomer in her lively voice. But no exchange of greetings followed her words. The other person and I had frozen the moment we recognized each other.
"Hey, hey."
"......"
"Hey, hey. Are you listening to me?"
"......"
I lowered my eyes and calmly rolled my pen between my fingers. The scratching sound served as my reply instead.
After several more attempts to get my attention, the man finally snatched my paper away in frustration. I sighed and looked up at him.
"What? What's your problem?"
"Why do you keep ignoring me?"
"Because you're worth ignoring."
"Hey!"
"Stop with the'hey, hey. 'Do you want to get hit again?"
I swiftly twirled the pen in my hand, sending a clear warning that I'd stab him with it if provoked. The man flinched, having experienced it before. A bruise, still livid purple around one eye, was clearly visible.
"What kind of woman keeps—"
"And what kind of man keeps pestering like this? You should know when to give up when someone says no. Are only your feelings important? You should consider the woman's feelings too."
"...... Who says? It's because I think you're lying!"
"She doesn't like you. This time, it's real."
"So last time was a lie?"
"......"
When I abruptly stood up, the man covered his face with one hand and hunched over. His expression dared me to try, but his body was already in a defensive stance.
I scoffed, leaned in, and snatched the paper from his hand. As I sat back down, he straightened up from his crouch, regaining his composure.
"Really? She really doesn't like me?"
"Yeah."
"Why... is it because I'm poor?"
"Yeah. And because you're short and ugly."
"H-hey! No one else calls me ugly!"
"Well, she thinks you are."
"......"
The man looked stunned, his face blank with shock. I studied him coldly.
I hadn't expected to see him again here. He was the same guy who'd pestered me to introduce him to Alicia, whom he had a crush on. Even after I hit him with a shovel last time, here he was again. I couldn't understand how someone could claim love at first sight when all he'd done was glimpse her face from afar.
He was around my age, but his perpetually ash-covered, grimy appearance was hard to look at. Even now, his face was smeared with what looked like dirt or soot, making him look filthy. His clothes were just as dirty, and black grime was caked under his fingernails.
Dressed like that, he wouldn't stand a chance with Alicia even if he confessed a hundred times. No—not just Alicia. Anyone would probably avoid him.
"If you like her so much, at least do something about how you look."
"W-what's wrong with me?"
"You're filthy. Your face, your clothes, your hands—all of it."
"This... it... it just doesn't come off easily......"
He gloomily muttered as he inspected his fingernails. What kind of work did he even do? I almost felt sorry for him, but Alicia, who valued appearances, would never take a liking to someone like this.
I shook my head and refocused on my transcription. When I stopped talking, he also picked up his pen with a dejected expression.
The scratching of pens filled the room. I was copying a book, while he was transcribing a newspaper. A quick glance showed his handwriting was surprisingly good. Though his hand holding the pen was smeared with black grime, the ink flowing from the nib traced elegant lines across the paper. His expression while working was unexpectedly serious.
"You write well."
The compliment slipped out before I could stop myself.