Chapter 243: The Witch Loved by All
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 243: The Witch Loved by All
Fwiiiish!
The curtains were thrown wide open.
Morning sunlight poured in.
“Mirabelle, it’s morning. Time to get up.”
“Uuuungh…”
“If you don’t get up and get ready now, you’ll be late. The head maid will be angry.”
“Ugh…”
Mirabelle tossed and turned, burying her face in the bed.
She didn’t want to get up.
But she wanted to be scolded even less.
After all, the head maid was scary when she got angry.
Mirabelle forced her sleep-heavy body to sit up. She could have used magic to banish the sleepiness, but she didn’t.
Because Karami had once told her that her defenseless, groggy state right after waking up was one of her charms.
It would be foolish to get rid of it herself.
She washed up with Naredi and changed into a matching maid outfit.
After getting ready, she arrived in the center of the first-floor hall.
The other maids were also gathering.
Thankfully, she wasn’t late.
“Those who just arrived are one minute late,” said Katrin, the head maid, checking her watch.
So they were all late.
Still, it was a relief they weren’t the only ones.
About twenty maids stood neatly in line, waiting. Soon, Narsha descended the stairs, exuding the air of a noble lady.
The maids bowed their heads in unison.
“Greetings, Lady Narsha.”
The master of this place was Karami, but its de facto manager was Narsha. The maids tacitly treated her as the mistress of the house.
Standing on the stairs, Narsha looked over the maids gathered before her.
“As you all know, we are expecting guests from Doomheim soon. Make sure not a speck of dust is visible on the floors or windows. And Katrin.”
“Yes, Lady Narsha.”
“Preparing a light meal as usual will cause an uproar. You must prepare the food properly.”
Narsha turned her head toward Bridget, who was in charge of the kitchen.
“Prepare plenty of meat dishes. Lamb, duck, pork—don’t be picky, make it lavish. Dwarves love hot, greasy meat.”
Bridget quickly jotted it down.
“You can’t serve light bread like usual, either. Prepare something hard and chewy. Like dark rye bread. And the alcohol… the alcohol.”
Narsha sighed. Just thinking about it was exhausting.
“A tremendous amount of ale will be arriving soon. Keep it chilled, and make sure the guests’ cups are never empty.”
“Understood.”
The matter to be discussed with Doomheim this time was the construction of a city.
It was the first large-scale construction project for them since they’d emerged from living underground.
Since the client was Karami, who had done Doomheim a great favor, the person they would send was certain to be one of the Seven Meisters.
She would never tolerate any negative talk within Karami's domain.
Dwarves are crazy about alcohol, so I'll have to ask for Victor's help.
The maids took notes on Narsha's thorough preparations. Soon, her gaze turned to Mirabelle and her mother.
“Katrin, how is Miss Mirabelle's training progressing?”
“We are in the final stages. Her learning ability is outstanding. It seems she will have no problem attending to the Master.”
“I see. I will continue to leave that in your hands, Katrin.”
Narsha clapped her hands.
“We don't have much time. Let's all move diligently so we don't fall behind schedule. Dismissed.”
*
The servants moved in perfect unison to prepare for the esteemed guests who would soon arrive.
They cleaned the mansion and tended the garden.
Thanks to Narsha's meticulousness, born from her devotion to ensuring Karami never felt any discomfort, cutting corners was impossible.
The work was harder than at other places, but the compensation was certain.
They were given break times, snacks that commoners rarely got to taste, and a hefty salary.
There had been some hesitation about the master being the Slave Reaper, but that was useless in the face of the overwhelming work-life balance.
In the end, the power that moved people was money.
More money.
The Slave Reaper?
Who cared? Even if he was a reaper, if he paid well, he was a god.
While the maids with this mindset worked busily without a moment's rest, Mirabelle received private lessons from Katrin, the head maid.
From the basics of cleaning, cooking, and brewing tea to her gait and minor mannerisms.
She was taught everything a maid needed to know to serve her master.
It was enough to hear the words, “I have nothing more to teach you. It is time for you to descend from the mountain.”
Of course, Mirabelle was in a building, not on a mountain.
After such a busy morning, it was time for lunch.
They had to serve meals to Karami, his slaves, and Victor and Renard, who showed up at mealtimes. Only when all that was finished did the maids get their own mealtime.
Mirabelle also ate in the kitchen with the other maids, making a meal of the leftover food.
Mirabelle had the right to eat with Karami, but she chose to eat with the maids.
If you're going to do something, do it right.
She had been subtly impressed by Rin's shapeshifting. Right now, Mirabelle was the perfect maid.
Thanks to this, Mirabelle spent more time talking with the maids, and it was only natural that they grew closer.
After all, to the maids, she was no different from a cute little sister.
She even used magic to cool them down when it was hot and relieve their fatigue, making her truly Mirabelle, the witch loved by all.
Even now, the maids were gathered around Mirabelle, their laughter in full bloom.
“Mirabelle, I hear your training is almost over. How were the head maid's lessons? Weren’t they tough?”
“It was hard, but it was fun. I was happy knowing that if I worked just a little harder, I'd be able to attend to the Master.”
“Such devotion. It's not easy to find someone as dedicated to serving the master as you are.”
“Really? I think all the other slaves are the same.”
“That's what's so strange.”
The maids knew. There were many slaves here, including Mirabelle.
Even Narsha, whom they followed, was Karami's slave. In terms of status alone, the commoner maids were superior to Narsha.
Servants who worked while taking orders from a slave. Such a bizarre hierarchy probably existed nowhere else in the world.
“Well, it's not like we can't understand it at all, right?”
“That's true. He calls them slaves, but he treats them like lovers. He provides the best of everything—food, clothing, and shelter—and even gives them expensive jewelry as gifts, right?”
“And most importantly, he's young and handsome. When I first met him, I almost blurted out, ‘I'll be your slave, too!’”
“I think I know what you mean. He just casually flashes a smile as he passes by, and wow… It made me wonder if he got the name ‘Slave Reaper’ because slaves willingly offered him their souls.”
The maids nodded in agreement.
“Then you should become the Master's slaves too, sisters!”
“Nah, even if we wanted to be his slaves, would there be any room for us?”
“That's also true.”
“Why not?”
At Mirabelle's innocent question, the maids let out self-deprecating laughs.
“The caliber of the women around him is just ridiculous.”
“They're all elves, and the others are all unbelievably beautiful. If we stood next to them, we'd look like goblins.”
“I wish I could live with a face like that~”
“Really? I'd rather try living in the Master's body. A life where you can do whatever you want with women like that. Aren't you super jealous?”
Mirabelle gave a bitter smile at the maids' conversation. If she showed them the path he had walked, they would never say such things.
She resisted the urge to show them with magic.
“But Mirabelle, we sisters are wholeheartedly on your side,” the maids said with solemn expressions.
“On my side?”
“We want you to be the one the Master favors the most.”
“I feel the same, but honestly, it won't be easy.”
Mirabelle was just as pretty as anyone, but her competition was formidable.
No matter how pretty and cute she was, for a woman to consistently receive a man's love, she eventually had to share his bed.
But for Mirabelle, stuck between mature women, her position was disadvantageous.
“Has the Master ever… laid a hand on his slaves?”
“No. He might tease them, but he's someone who would never lay a hand on his slaves.”
Which was actually a complaint for many of the slaves.
“That's amazing…”
“I know, right.”
To not touch any of them when he's surrounded by so many beautiful slaves. What a saint.
The maids thought that if they were Karami, they would have done as they pleased long ago.
Of course, it was because they weren't him that they could talk like this.
The maids, after confirming Naredi wasn't there, cautiously brought up a topic.
“Mirabelle, how would you feel if the Master did lay a hand on you?”
“The Master… me? I've never thought about it…”
“Think about it now.”
“For him to see someone as lacking as me with… with those kinds of eyes. I think it would be a great honor.”
The other party was more than worthy, and the girl herself didn't seem to mind.
In that case, it was time for her big sisters to give her a push.
“Mirabelle, the head maid probably didn't teach you this, so we'll teach you instead.”
“A duty that, as a maid and a slave, you must absolutely master when serving a male master.”
Something Katrin didn't teach her? Something a maid and a slave absolutely had to know? Why wouldn't she have taught her that?
“What is it?”
Mirabelle's eyes sparkled and her ears perked up.
The maids spoke with the solemn expressions of people sharing a great secret.
“It's how to please the Master.”