The Servants' Reckoning
“Damian. If you want to tell me why you dumped out the bucket of water, you can do it anytime. You can even draw it for me. You're not the kind of kid who would do that for no reason.”
Right, the reason.
She kept turning it over in her mind.
At a glance, the children seemed to be treated well enough.
There were no bruises on their chests or backs during examinations.
So, was it simply a dislike of strangers?
Or revenge against the person who had brought the stranger?
To figure it out, I'll have no choice but to summon Anselm to the punishment.
Deep in thought, she turned to Banya.
“Call Anselm. And ask Victor to come down for a moment, even if he's busy.”
“Understood.”
This had to be handled without tarnishing the family's name.
Fortunately, Ibel knew just how.
The mansion erupted in chaos as numerous servants and maids faced dismissal.
Summoned out of nowhere, the staff gathered in anxiety, some already packing their belongings.
Everyone knew they were Genevieve's cronies, so most breathed sighs of relief—while a few began to tremble.
Oh my, what's all this?
Cecily Bethel, freshly bathed and changed, watched the scene with wide-eyed curiosity.
It was entertaining enough to evaporate her lingering displeasure from the sudden dousing.
Soon, Ibel emerged alongside the twins and the grand duke himself, her demeanor icy enough to repel even a needle's prick.
She gave Cecily a brief nod of greeting, then slowly surveyed the crowd.
“The reason these people are being dismissed today is that they failed in their duties.”
It wasn't her usual gentle tone. Everyone flinched at the unfamiliar edge.
The elegant noblewoman took on the air of a soldier, as if painted over by an artist.
Cecily watched the transformation with deep admiration.
“Young as they are, they are still Bayerns by birth—the masters you were bound to serve.”
“……”
“Yet after serving them for so long, you claim to know nothing about your masters. Worse, you laid hands on them improperly. Do you have any excuses for that?”
A sob broke out from somewhere—the maids assigned to the twins.
“Anselm. Is there anyone among them you want to keep?”
Ibel ignored the crying and turned to Anselm.
This was their final chance.
“No. None.”
But Anselm answered clearly.
Dismiss them all, he said.
“Very well. As you've seen, despite being so close from a very young age, Anselm has no attachment to any of you. That's a problem that can't be ignored.”
Typically, noble children grew fond of their attendants.
Fond enough to take them along even after marriage and a move to another house.
Drawing such a hard line was exceptionally rare.
“Besides what I've witnessed and heard today, were there any other incidents?”
Anselm was a sharp child. He wouldn't miss an opportunity, even in sudden circumstances.
Sparks flew from the angelic boy's blue eyes.
As if he'd been waiting for this moment forever, his small finger pointed at two or three others.
“Those ones bullied Damian too. They tripped him on purpose and said my mother birthed a beast.”
“N-no, that's not true! We didn't!”
Immediate denials flew back—but that only fueled Anselm's anger.
“Of course. You wouldn't dare say such things in front of me.”
One step.
Anselm stepped forward.
He was still too young for true intimidation, yet his small back seemed burdened with a mountain.
“But the person who heard you blabbering like that... wasn't Damian. It was me.”
In that moment, Ibel realized something.
So that's why the twins sometimes switched places...
They swapped roles now and then, sharing the abuse and scorn to endure it.
Damian suppressed his instincts in those instants, following Anselm's lead.
These twins were that close—intimate enough for such unspoken agreements.
As if they'd once been one, split in two at birth.
“You couldn't even tell me and Damian apart. You'd fawn and smile to my face, then run your mouths freely once he was alone.”
Even as the pent-up resentment burst forth, Anselm remained calm. It mirrored Victor exactly when he lost his temper.
Finally, Ibel addressed the now deathly silent crowd.
“You must feel wronged to be sent packing like this. If anyone else has accusations to add, speak now. Cooperate, and I'll ensure you're given generous severance for travel.”
Losing their jobs was inevitable anyway.
So they might as well squeeze out more money.
A few exchanged glances, then erupted in hysterics.
“Emma! She should be fired too!”
They were maids who'd long clashed with Emma.
No hesitation in accusing her.
“She sneaks food meant for the young masters. Bragged about eating different meals from us more than once or twice!”
“Y-yes, I heard it too!”
“And Emma slacks off at her work!”
Ibel raised an eyebrow.
Emma—Genevieve's closest confidante, no doubt.
She received higher pay than others yet did suspiciously little work; Ibel had noted the name.
“What are you saying? That's all lies!”
“Lies? We heard it ourselves!”
Emma jumped to deny it, of course. Left alone, it would devolve into a shouting match. Ibel promptly handed the reins to Anselm.
“Anselm. Were there ever times when food went missing?”
“Yes. No chicken legs, or no strawberries. It happened a lot—every time that maid brought the food.”
Anselm didn't seem to be lying this time either.
And Victor, who had come at Ibel's request... slowly clenched his fist.
Now he finally understood the treatment Damian had endured in his absence.
When Victor was briefly at the estate, Damian behaved decently enough, and Genevieve kept her actions in check.
Everyone had tiptoed around, watching his mood.
But Victor's stays never lasted beyond a fortnight.
After that, he was gone again.
This must have repeated every time I left. The steward held back reports, citing my busyness or unknown whereabouts.
Letters in this era weren't reliable.
What if he was abroad when one arrived?
Family scandals could spread far and wide.
They should have told him when he visited the estate, at least.
...No, no. This is my failing.
Even at the estate, Victor had no time to breathe.
He'd entrusted the children to Genevieve and shown them no attention himself.
If I'd paid even a little more mind... none of this would have happened.
He'd focused elsewhere; the steward hadn't wanted to bother him. Meanwhile, they'd all gradually soaked in Genevieve's cruelty, like clothes in a drizzle.
Damian's misbehavior worsened, until he was sent to an asylum.
In the past, that is.
“……”
He gazed at the children.
Anger and regret warred on his face.
Yet he held his tongue.
This was Ibel's domain.
She was accomplishing what he never could.
Ibel looked up at Victor, who seemed at a loss for words.
He knew this was their one irreplaceable chance to change everything.
“No! Lady Genevieve! Please, Lady Genevieve, help me...!”
“Silence her.”
Victor issued the order, suppressing his rage. Loyal maids swiftly restrained Emma and tossed her to the 'dismissed' side.
He was holding back.
For the children's sake, as much as possible.
“Steward. Give those who joined the accusations just now a proper travel allowance.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
The surroundings fell briefly silent at the title.
Calling an unwed woman 'ma'am' meant the household had already decided.