The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 88

Translation: godsn

"Uh... Excuse me, may I ask what you're doing...?"

"......"

He didn't respond to my words. He just kept staring at me with an intense gaze. Flustered, I tightly gripped the broom handle. What on earth is he doing?

As his prolonged stare continued, I found myself unable to meet his eyes directly and kept glancing around nervously. That's when Ethan came inside. He strode purposefully closer and stopped right in front of me. Then he looked me up and down before suddenly raising his hand to the top of my head. After that, he moved his hand down to about chest level as if measuring my height, repeated this action three times, and then began circling around me.

His stiff expression and sharp gaze somehow felt intimidating. I hunched my shoulders nervously, watching warily as he circled around me.

"Why—why are you doing this?"

"......"

After spinning around dizzyingly, he stopped before me again. His rigid expression gradually softened as he studied me for a long moment. Soon, it transformed into a smile.

"I knew it was you."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't entirely sure at first. I never thought I'd see you again like this."

Ethan beamed broadly and suddenly spread his arms wide. His voice, brimming with joy just like his expression, burst forth eagerly.

"Long time no see, Paula."

"......!"

H-how—

"How did you recognize me?!"

I asked in shock. Ethan's eyes widened as he stood there with arms outstretched, welcoming me.

"Huh? I just knew somehow. You haven't changed much, and you're still so petite."

He chuckled and tapped the tip of his finger against the top of my head. His teasing gesture and mischievous expression showed his playful nature hadn't changed at all.

I stared blankly up at Ethan. I never expected him to recognize me. Back then, I always kept my face hidden behind my bangs, and I thought he would have quickly forgotten about some temporary maid who only worked briefly.

"You cut your bangs."

"Ah, yes. It just sort of happened."

I touched my shortened bangs. They'd grown out a bit since then and now swayed before my eyes.

"Didn't you grow them out on purpose? To look more distinctive."

"I did grow them out intentionally, but not for that reason."

When I firmly refuted him, Ethan laughed cheerfully. His joking manner was just the same as ever.

"When did you come back? Vincent never mentioned it."

"Well... The Master doesn't know. Because I didn't exactly'come back. '"

"You didn't come back? Then why are you here?"

"It's a long story."

Explaining everything would probably require a lengthy, convoluted tale. So I simply said that while I thought I'd been hired by another household, I somehow ended up flowing back here instead. Ethan looked like he couldn't quite understand what I meant. Now that I said it out loud, it did sound like a strange explanation.

As I wondered where to even begin explaining, I eventually gave up and summarized it as "it just sort of happened." Of course, Ethan still looked thoroughly confused. But instead of demanding further explanation, he took a step closer to me. His arms still spread wide.

"Anyway, I'm just so glad to see you."

"Huh?"

His round brown eyes held me clearly in their gaze.

"I missed you, Miss Maid. No—"

"......"

"Paula."

My real name, heard after so long.

Maybe that's why the joy I'd been trying to suppress came surging up from deep within my heart.

"Me too, Lord Ethan."

We embraced each other, savoring our reunion.

"How have you been all this time?"

"Thanks to Lord Ethan's help, I hid myself away and waited out the situation. Then I returned to where I used to live, but my father had passed away, so my younger sister and I wandered around looking for work until we ended up here."

"I didn't know you had a sister. A brother?"

"A younger sister."

"Is she here with you?"

"Yes. We were hired together."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with curiosity about who she was. I forced a smile and fidgeted with both hands. We don't look alike at all. Many people had been curious about me after seeing Alicia's face, but this was the first time someone was curious about my sister after seeing me. The awkwardness left me speechless, and when I didn't respond, Ethan didn't press further.

"You must have been through a lot."

A large hand ruffled through my hair. The gesture, as if treating a close younger sibling, made me feel strangely conflicted. His face, now gentle, was completely different from its earlier stiffness. This wasn't the face of the Count who had sacrificed his blood relatives—the one the maids feared—but the Ethan I knew.

He looked utterly at ease now.

But who had suffered more? After I left the mansion, I'd learned through newspapers that his life hadn't been smooth. The maids' gossip had filled in the rest.

My life hadn't been easy either, but if I spoke, it might turn into a competition of who had suffered more, so I couldn't bring myself to ask how he'd been.

But sharp-eyed Ethan saw right through me.

"I'm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your eyes are saying it for you."

He reached for my bangs, teasingly adding, "Looks like you got a haircut." I pushed his hand away with a sullen expression. Don't touch me. Even at my reaction, Ethan just laughed without a hint of irritation.

"How have you been?"

"As you heard. Weren't you just taking my side earlier?"

"You heard that?"

"A little. I almost cried from how touching it was."

"Not that much."

But it wasn't entirely untrue. Again, I cut him off firmly.

"You must have had a hard time too, Ethan."

"Not really?"

His answer was light. His chuckling face was light too.

"You don't have to force yourself to smile."

"I should smile. It's all over now—what's the point of being gloomy?"

"Even if it's over, I don't think the pain disappears. The sorrow, either."

"Do I look sad to you?"

"Yes."

"Do I have the right to be? It's all true."

I shook my head. Don't say that.

"I devoured my own flesh and blood and survived alone."

"Ethan."

"Paula. No matter how you dress it up with pretty words, no matter what hidden circumstances there were, in the end, it was my own hands that dealt with my blood relatives. 'Devoured'—that's the perfect word for me, isn't it?"

"That wasn't what you wanted."

"Do you really believe that?"

He asked. His tone was still light, but the weight behind his words was anything but.

Instead of answering, I stared straight at him. I knew he wasn't really asking me out of curiosity. Behind his smiling face, I could see festering wounds about to burst.

"You know, Paula. What James did. That wasn't something anyone could forgive. Even if forgiveness were possible, I... couldn't forgive him."

"......"

"Are you disappointed?"

"No."

Again, my answer was firm. What was there to be disappointed about? I wasn't in any ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠position to judge, nor did I dare to offer unsolicited advice. In the end, I was just an outsider—someone who couldn't share his pain.

I knew exactly how precious his brothers had been to him. To presume to understand the desperation that drove him to make that choice—to cut them out of himself—would be arrogance.

But I knew he had suffered. Having lost my own sisters before my eyes, I could faintly grasp that pain.

"I'm not disappointed."

"Really? What if I'm not the person you thought you knew?"

"I never knew you well to begin with."

"......"

"Hmm. I do know you laugh annoyingly often and have a knack for cold remarks that get under people's skin."

"Paula, that's too harsh. Even someone like me would be hurt by such words."

Ethan placed both hands over his chest, feigning a wounded expression. He wasn't actually hurt—he was just pretending. It seemed his knack for theatrics had only grown in my absence.

"Isn't that so?"

"In situations like this, you should say, 'Lord Ethan, you're still as kind as ever.'"

"I can't bring myself to lie."

"Oh my. The Paula I knew was a maid who lied exceptionally well. So effortlessly that I'd sometimes catch myself marveling at it in private."

Honestly, it wasn't that bad. I shot him a look, silently urging him to stop exaggerating, and he finally relaxed his expression with a laugh.

"More importantly, I heard you're attending to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Robert now?"

"You know Young Master Robert?"

"Of course. He's Violet's son."

"Madam Violet's son?!"

The unexpected revelation startled me. Seeing my shock, Ethan scratched his head, equally surprised.

"You didn't know?"

"Ah... no..."

Good heavens. I never imagined Violet had a child. Now that I thought about it... they did resemble each other. Especially the eyes. I'd always felt an odd familiarity whenever I saw Robert, but to think it was because of Violet...

Could he be Vincent's son? But I quickly dismissed the thought. I recalled hearing that Robert's mother was too busy managing the family estate in place of his late father to even visit him.

"How is Madam Violet? No—when did she even get married?"

"Not long after you left, she formally annulled her engagement with Vincent. Shortly after, she married another noble. Marquis Marguerite was in quite a hurry."

"And Madam Violet... accepted it?"

"She didn't have the right to refuse."

The annulment hadn't been Violet's choice either. The memory of her being dragged away in tears was still vivid. She must have spent every day drowning in sorrow. The thought of her being forced into a marriage she didn't want left a bitter taste in my mouth. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Still, she lived well enough. Marquis Marguerite may be rigid, but he wouldn't marry his daughter off to just anyone."

"But... she passed away, didn't she?"

"Ah, you heard about that. It was a carriage accident. A tragic affair. Now, Violet manages her late husband's estate."

Finally, the mystery of why the mistress was too busy to even see her son was solved. After her husband's death, she had to single-handedly oversee and lead the entire household, leaving no time to visit her own child. I'd even heard the nanny fret that she barely had time to sleep properly in bed, worried she might ruin her health from overwork.

"Still, she's holding up strong, so there's no need to worry."

"Really?"

"Didn't I tell you before? Of all of us, Violet was always the strongest."

His reassuring smile seemed to promise the truth. It may not have been the life she wanted, but at least I hoped she wasn't unhappy.

"If Violet hears news of you, she might make time to visit."

"Please don't."

"Why not? She'd be overjoyed."

Honestly, meeting again would just be awkward. Our last encounter hadn't ended well.

"If she's doing fine, that's enough."

"Did you two fight?"

"How could I possibly fight her?"

"So you did fight."

I had no idea what gave him that impression. Frowning, I shook my head, but Ethan had already concluded that Violet and I had quarreled. Excuse me, could you listen to what I'm saying?

"Robert takes after Violet—reckless, isn't he?"

"So that's why he resembles Madam Violet."

"She was quite the troublemaker herself."

"That does sound familiar."

"Robert is the spitting image of Violet. Even the stubbornness is identical."

He spoke so freely, as if no one else were around. Walls have eyes and ears, you know? Hoping those very eyes and ears would relay this conversation to Violet, I didn't stop him.

"It can't have been easy serving him, but you seem to be managing well."

"The master I served before wasn't exactly easygoing either."

"Ahaha. True enough."

Ethan nodded solemnly in agreement.