The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 87

Translation: godsn

The mansion's atmosphere was unusually lively today, quite unlike normal times.

The housemaids were so absorbed in chattering in small groups that they could barely focus, and even the usually diligent ones kept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stealing glances toward the entrance while lost in thought. An uncommonly excited energy hung in the air. Though Audrey had scolded them when she caught them, the maids still seemed wholly preoccupied with the doorway.

Though puzzled, I had no way of knowing the reason, so I simply focused on cleaning. Today, I'd joined the cleaning duties myself after a long while and was demonstrating my skills.

I was returning from polishing the hallway corridors, carrying a metal pail filled with dirty water, when I spotted three maids huddled together behind the staircase railing. They were all stealing glances toward the entrance while giggling. Curious, I quietly approached and caught fragments of their hushed whispers.

"Wow. I never thought we'd actually get to see him in person."

"My goodness. He's even more dashing in real life."

"Really? I find him rather intimidating."

Their conversation sounded like they were appraising someone, so my gaze naturally followed theirs toward the entrance. Three figures stood by the door. The first one I recognized was Vincent. Behind him stood Audrey. And facing Vincent was...

"Ethan?"

I'd guessed from everyone's glances that we were expecting a visitor, but I never imagined it would be Ethan.

"Oh my! Do you know Lord Ethan too?"

"So you've heard the news as well?"

The maids in front of me reacted instantly to my words, their faces lighting up with the delight of finding a kindred spirit. Though flustered, I forced a smile and looked back toward the entrance.

The man conversing with Vincent was indeed Ethan. It had been five years since we last met. He looked leaner than before, with visible traces of time etched on his face. Unlike his past self who was always laughing and playful, his current expression seemed strangely rigid and unfamiliar. Not even a hint of a smile appeared as he interacted with Vincent.

Vincent wasn't particularly prone to smiling either, so a rather solemn atmosphere flowed between the two men. Though it wasn't entirely stiff either.

Of course, it's only natural—Ethan's been doing well for himself.

"But I think the rumors about him being scary might be true after all."

"Rumors?"

"My, you haven't heard? They're quite famous."

At my question, the three gave me looks that said "how could you not know?" I blinked in confusion. One of them quickly closed the distance between us and whispered in a hushed tone, as if sharing a secret.

"The rumor that he killed all his blood relatives to become Count."

What in the—! Despite my shocked reaction, they continued undeterred.

"I heard he killed his younger brother."

"What I heard was his older brother."

"No, it was his father. Remember how the previous Count Christopher died under mysterious circumstances? They never caught the murderer behind those killings."

"Ah! So then! It's true that he's a murderer who killed his own flesh and blood for power!"

They chattered excitedly, their words mostly consisting of baseless rumors disparaging Ethan. I didn't know why such rumors were circulating, but as someone who knew the truth, their gossip only worsened my mood. Oblivious to my reaction, they bickered among themselves about whose version was correct.

"That's not true."

I couldn't listen any longer.

"So did he kill them all then? For power?"

"Wow, really?"

"See, I told you he was terrifying."

"No, he didn't!"

When I suddenly raised my voice, they all startled and turned to stare at me. I quickly covered my mouth with both hands. A quick glance toward Ethan confirmed he thankfully hadn't heard my outburst.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I lowered my voice to a volume only they could hear.

"I don't know what nonsense you've been listening to, but those are all false rumors. Baseless stories."

"How would you know that?"

"Haven't you seen the newspapers? The former Count Christopher was arrested on suspicion of murdering his own kin."

"That hasn't been conclusively proven yet."

"Right. He died during the investigation, didn't he?"

"And that was homicide too."

"Wasn't it just suspected homicide?"

"Come on. It's obvious. Just some dirty power struggle between brothers, isn't it?"

"I heard he was an adopted son?"

So the rumors had reached that point. The truths Ethan had tried so hard to conceal were now spilling freely from their lips. It was painfully clear how thoroughly the world must have dissected their lives over the past five years.

The more a story passes through people, the more it distorts. In that process, truth becomes irrelevant. I knew this, yet as someone who knew the whole truth, I felt suffocated and furious. I couldn't claim Ethan Christopher was a good man, but to be accused of killing his own blood relatives to become Count—that was too unjust.

How dearly he had cherished his brother, his sister.

He shouldn't have to hear such things.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"I don't know what rumors you've heard, but blindly tearing someone down without knowing the facts isn't right."

"Excuse me?"

One of the maids scowled.

"I can't say he's a good person, but he would never kill his own blood relatives."

"And how would you know that?"

"Does it matter? Stop spreading baseless gossip and just do your jobs properly."

"Hey now!"

Finally, one of them snapped, raising her voice sharply. When she glared at me, I met her gaze without backing down. Another maid anxiously waved her hands, urging them to lower their voices, but the angry maid wasn't even pretending to listen.

"Why are you picking a fight with us when everyone says it! And where there's smoke, there's fire! How would you know whether he killed his own relatives to become Count or not? Did you see it happen? Huh? Did you?"

Her voice grew louder. Another maid, unsure what to do, glanced behind her—then suddenly stiffened. Our gazes followed hers.

"M-Master."

Vincent and Ethan stood watching us, though I hadn't noticed their approach.

The maid who spotted them first hastily bowed. The other two followed suit, flustered.

I looked at Vincent's startled expression before shifting my gaze to Ethan. The moment our eyes met—his brown eyes giving nothing away—I belatedly bowed as well.

"Everyone, return to your posts at once!"

At Audrey's shout, the three maids muttered apologies and scurried away like startled mice.

"My apologies."

I quickly turned to follow them.

I'd first heard about Ethan's news on an unusually cold winter day. The Christopher family's conclusion had graced the front page of the newspaper. [James Christopher Passes at Young Age. Suspected Homicide.] [The Rise of the Legitimate Next Count Christopher.]

That was how I learned who the victor of that long story had been. But it was a victory that left even the winner wounded. Whether James Christopher's death was truly suicide or homicide didn't interest me. My concern was Ethan. My heart ached for him, knowing he'd have to shoulder everything alone from then on.

Still, I'd thought it fortunate that at least Lucas was with him. But now, with Lucas' s fate uncertain, I wondered if Ethan might be living a life not so different from Vincent's. Though they weren't blood brothers, they had once been precious family. I didn't need to imagine how painful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that loss must have been for him.

And yet... to call such a man a murderer who killed his own flesh and blood?

"That's impossible."

He shouldn't be disparaged like this...

"Are you insane?"

Alicia's sudden outburst shattered my thoughts. I blinked at her in a daze. Her hands waving in front of my face pulled my wandering mind back to the present.

"You've been muttering to yourself this whole time."

"It's nothing."

"Don't give me that."

I pretended not to notice Alicia's narrowed glare as I swept the floor with my broom. Realizing I had no intention of answering, she didn't press further.

Today, Alicia had joined the cleaning too—not just me. Most of the servants had been assigned cleaning duties in preparation for guests. But Alicia barely seemed to be working at all. I half-expected her to get reported to Audrey any minute now.

"Stop staring."

And she had been drilling holes into me with her gaze since earlier. Her eyes burned so intensely that ignoring them was impossible. Lately, Alicia had taken to staring at me like this more often.

"You saw him too, right? Today's guest."

"Yeah."

"What do you think? They say he's friends with Lord Vincent."

"Lord Vincent?"

I flinched at the jarringly familiar title, and Alicia shrugged.

"He'll be my lord soon, so I might as well call him properly."

"You've truly lost your mind. Watch your tongue."

"Relax. I always call him 'Master' properly otherwise. Not that I'll have to keep doing that for much longer."

Where on earth did that confidence come from?

It was absurd, but Alicia was genuinely trying to seduce Vincent. Every time he had tea with Joelli, she'd subtly hover around him, asking if his tea tasted good or if it was too hot. Vincent usually ignored her or gave curt replies, but Alicia seemed satisfied with even that. To me, it still looked hopeless, but her confidence only grew by the day.

"I'm genuinely curious—how exactly do you plan to pull this off?"

"I have my ways. A special method."

"And you're sure it'll work?"

I asked purely out of curiosity, but to my surprise, Alicia smirked triumphantly.

"Maybe? I think I'm just the right fit."

"For what?"

"Ah, you don't need to know. I'll handle it myself, so don't worry about it!"

"Just don't cause trouble. Please."

"Don't tell me you're getting jealous now?"

The question was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so ridiculous I didn't even bother answering, which only made her pester me more.

For some reason, Alicia was subtly wary of me. Did she think I'd interfere? Not that there was anything to interfere with—Vincent didn't spare us a single glance.

"You wouldn't get it, but he's really interested in me. He keeps asking me all sorts of things whenever he sees me. It's almost annoying, honestly."

She flipped her long hair behind her ear and tilted her chin up with overflowing confidence. I just humored her with a noncommittal reply, knowing she'd only get more smug if I reacted. Her attitude was baffling, but since I couldn't figure out the reason, I decided to just watch and see.

A short while later, a housemaid entered the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠storeroom where we were cleaning. After exchanging a few words with Alicia, she hurried back out. Alicia immediately threw down the rag she'd been holding—clearly about to leave.

Seriously? In the middle of cleaning?

"Finish wiping before you go."

"Joelli's calling for me."

Her tone was deliberately pointed, laced with sarcasm.

"I'm going. You can handle the rest alone."

"......"

The way she flipped her hair back irritated me so much I turned away. As the sound of Alicia's footsteps faded, I swept the already clean floor over and over. Was it really all about looks? The thought made my mood sink.

All that came out as I swept was sigh after sigh. I didn't even know why I was here doing this. A sudden wave of self-loathing dragged my mood even lower. Eventually, I stopped sweeping and just stared blankly at the floor.

Then, out of nowhere—knock, knock.

Startled, I turned—and froze in shock.

Ethan was standing at the doorway.

The unexpected sight of him left me speechless. What was he doing here? Oblivious to my bewildered stare, Ethan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His brown eyes swept over me from head to toe, as if scrutinizing me.