What is a [Lady]? That was the question running through Fayette's mind as she knocked on one's door and waited.
Despite psyching herself up, she was feeling nervous and wary, mostly because this would be her first time really dealing with one personally. Back at her old job, she had never risen up high in the ranks, and had thus mostly remained in periphery work, rarely working directly with any important visitors.
To be honest, that may have been a blessing. Her old master hadn’t been the type she would have ever liked to be more directly involved with. She had felt fine keeping far off.
However, now she would be working close to a real [Lady]. She couldn’t help instinctively straightening the ruffles on her outfit and double-checking that her apron was spotless. Once she realized what she was doing, she slapped herself on the cheek in an effort to stop herself.
Focus! You are not working as a [Maid] for her, but as a hunter. Why am I getting so nervous about this? Just have to be calm as usual. Who knows what will happen if I start acting as a [Maid] to some [Lady]? Will I become beholden to her or something? Should probably be careful to keep a professional distance.
Finally, she was released from her ponderings by the door opening, revealing the [Lady], and the [Maid] found her first answer to the question: a [Lady] was a very messy human.
Fayette glanced down at the lily-patterned hems of the woman's dress and internally screamed at the crumpled fabric, which made the flowers seem split in two. She felt her fingers twitching. Can’t I fix her up? Just a bit?
But no, she tightened her hands, forced them into iron grips, and her nails dug in, almost drawing blood. Must. Focus. She is just some [Governess]. No [Lady] standards here. And definitely no [Maiding] about for her.
She curtsied. “Miss, I will be guarding you for the night.”
Blue eyes took her in and betrayed just a hint of nervousness. Or something else? Fayette wasn’t sure. Tricky to judge, these types.
“Ah... hello? Please call me Marie.” The [Lady] said, eyes darting up and down Fayette’s uniform. “There is one free bed. Still... I’m not sure I need a guard for the night. I’m just a humble [Governess] after all.”
Fayette rose back up and looked directly into the woman’s eyes, not blinking. “Right. A [Governess].”
The blonde-haired woman glanced back one more time, then walked into the room, beckoning for Fayette to follow. Fayette focused her eyes on the woman, purposely away from the mess in the room, and followed her through the suite, all the way to the bedroom.
Fayette calmly walked to the free bed, a smaller one at the far end of the room, blessedly still clean and neat from disuse, and began to set her things down. The [Lady] had hopped onto her own bed, and sat there, staring at her. The hem of her dress swung back and forth with her legs, and her face struggled with something until curiosity finally broke through, and she asked her question.
“Hey, excuse me miss—I don’t think I ever got your name—but you are a hunter, right? But that uniform... aren’t you a [Maid]?”
Fayette turned back from examining the blankets and gave the woman a blank stare. “Well, yes. I am a hunter, and I am a [Maid]. My name is Fayette, miss.”
The straightforward answer shut the [Lady] up for a bit, though her stare lingered, still taking in every one of Fayette’s motions. It started to get on her nerves.
“It’s an early morning tomorrow,” Fayette finally said, turning back to the woman. “I recommend going to sleep.”
The [Lady] sighed. “I suppose you are right—It’s just, we’ll be together for a long ride, won’t we? I was thinking we could get to know each other more.”
What insidious plot is this? Fayette asked, narrowing her eyes, but she sensed no maliciousness. Hmph. Answer two, a [Lady] was a talkative thing, always gathering new information.
The [Maid] shook her head. “We’ll have time enough on the ride.”
The miss sighed again, rolled off the bed, then began taking off her dress. It was a very awkward process. Not her fault, really—her dress was just of that fastened-at-the-back type never meant for one woman to put on by herself.
Watching the [Lady] claw behind her in an attempt to get at the strings filled Fayette with another twitching urge to help, but she held back and turned back to her own bed. I’m not her [Maid]! I can’t be doing stuff like that for her, or can I? Just a bit maybe... No! Focus! A new life as a hunter!
She undressed herself down to her own chemise, set a spare broom by the bedside—what kind of guard didn’t have a weapon ready—and laid down under the covers. She looked back at the [Lady].
The blonde-haired woman wasn’t making much progress. She had finally managed to edge a shoulder out of the ungainly dress, but the rest was now a crumpled mess as she struggled out of it, ankles flashing from amidst the fabrics.
Fayette quickly turned away from the improper sight, closed her eyes, and tried to get to sleep. However, the ruffling of fabric continued on and on, keeping her up late, building up a discomfort deep within her.
It was a long night. Answer three: a [Lady] was annoying.
The next morning, Mireille and Olivia were already having their breakfast when Fayette stumbled down the stairs. The [Maid’s] uniform was as proper as ever, but her movements were twitchy, and her eyes almost feral. She was breathing heavily and grasping around wildly with her fingers, as if nipping at invisible bits of cloth.
She looked at her companions, and they shivered under her wild gaze. “I’m... going to go outside for a bit. I need to clean.
“Ah, sure, go do that,” Mireille responded, careful to not set her friend off any more than she was already. Olivia just stayed silent and out of it, nodding the [Maid] off.
Fayette slowly turned, then stomped out her inn, dragging her spare broom behind her all the way.
After she was gone, Mireille and Olivia turned to each other.
“What got into her?” the [Doctor] asked.
“Who knows? She’s always particular about the strangest things. Probably got some strange [Maid] idea again.” Mireille answered.
Another figure stepped down from upstairs, this time the [Lady], somehow in even more of a mess than yesterday. Her hair was getting really tangled up by now, and she seemed to have run out of makeup halfway down her face.
Mireille and Olivia looked at each other. I guess that explains it. They silently went back to eating breakfast.
After wildly using [Sweep Dust] on all the town’s streets for a half-hour, Fayette finally calmed down enough to go fetch her broom. Despite the early hour, the [Blacksmith] was hard at work when she arrived at his shop, this time hammering out an iron pan.
“Hello there girlie, give me just 5 minutes, need to finish this, then I’ll get your broom out. Finished it last night—think it turned out well.”
“Thanks... Waiting isn’t a bother.”
Fayette stood at the edge of the shop and stabilized her mind further with the calming clangs of metalwork. Could I trap this sound somehow and listen to it later? I could listen to this all day...
Her relaxation was finally cut short as the man finished his work, put away his tools, and walked into his shop.
“Let’s see... Where did I put that broom...”
He dug around for a moment, found the item, then walked back out, broom in hand. A fancy broom.
Fayette took it in hand, felt the comfortable weight it had to it, and had to admit she was impressed. It still looked like a perfectly ordinary not-a-mace broom, just one with a fancily-engraved metal bit at the end. She examined it closer and saw that although it wasn’t very thick, it still added a nice weight to the end.
Altogether, the broom still felt very balanced in her hand. She looked back to the [Smith]. “Why does it feel more balanced than before? This new metal bit at the end should imbalance it a bit, no?”
The smith grinned and stroked his bushy bear. “That’s what a beginner might get done, but I have some tricks in these old bones. Feel at the other end, won’t you?”
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Fayette turned the broom around, then measured the bristled end in her hand. It felt heavier there too. “You added something here?”
He nodded. “Yes—just a bit of a metal core to balance out the other end. Should make it handier to use either end.”
Fayette walked a bit from the workshop to a more open spot, then twirled her new broom about in her hand, marveling at the new feel it held. She closed her eyes, focused on her [Maid Martial Arts], and went through a few forms. The blows felt weightier now, a building wave instead of a steady pulse. It was like moving from a swift, steady walk to a rhythmic dance.
She smiled, all worries of the day forgotten. Now this was a proper weapon for a [Maid]. One had to be prepared, she had killed two nobles already. Was that what a [Lady] was? Another new target to get brained by a broom?
Fayette stared at her broom long and hard, then shook her head. No, Mireille would probably be really mad if I killed our employer. She turned to the [Blacksmith].
“Thanks, this will do well indeed. How much do I owe?”
After paying the smith with a small added bonus, Fayette headed back to the inn. Her friends and the miss were already gathered outside, next to a caravan of wagons. Oh, guess the time to leave is near.
She walked to Mireille, who was standing in a ring of hunters, talking to a silver-haired man dressed in simple leather armor. The [Seamstress] noticed her approach, and shuffled a bit to the side, making room for Fayette in the ring.
“—and here is the last member of our party and its official leader: Fayette. Despite her garb, she is a quite proficient fighter.”
Fayette frowned as she stepped next to Mireille. She crossed her arms and looked at her friend. “What do you mean ‘despite’? The right word is ‘because’.”
Mireille sighed, then nodded at the older man standing opposite her. “Fay, this is Martin, leader of the Salted Knives, the other hunter party guarding our caravan.”
Fayette turned to the man and noted how old he seemed to be—silver hair, a neat mustache, and skin wrinkled with age. Still, he seemed spry enough. Fayette nodded at him. “Greetings.”
The aged hunter lifted his hat and bowed to her. “Greetings miss, pleasure to be working with ya. As your friend said, name’s Martin. We’ve got more proper [Guard] types traveling with us too, but it’s good for us hunter-folk to stick together.”
He nudged the younger man by his side, a youth with a face very reminiscent of his, just all brown instead of silver. “This here’s my son, Martino. Hunter too. In fact, I started this job to look after the fool—“ He ruffled the young man’s hair, much to his displeasure. “—can’t have the little rascal running off on his own and worrying his folks, now can I?”
The youth squirmed under Martin’s iron grip. “Dad! Stop introducing me like that! We’ve been over this!”
Martin just chuckled, then looked back to Fayette. “Rest of our party are good lads too, I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”
Fayette curtsied in their direction, face the very picture of a dignified [Maid]. “Pleasure to be working with you too, then.”
Martin tipped his hat one more time, then sauntered off to direct the loading of the wagons, dragging his son behind him. Fayette found her eyes following the pair. Parents—huh? Wonder how that feels.
She turned back to Mireille. “He seems an experienced sort—did you get any good information?”
Mireille nodded. “Seems our route isn’t generally the riskiest sort, but there have been more bandits around lately. The war taxed people out here especially heavily, and there’s been discontent about. We’ll need to keep our eyes open.”
“Did he say anything about how risky things are?”
“Hard to judge—but one in every five wagons has been ‘disrupted’ from schedule lately.”
Fayette pondered over the danger and looked over their caravan. They had five wagons altogether, three for merchants and two for travellers. They were simple constructs—sturdy wood pulled by hardy horses. Should be defensible enough with all the guards and hunters we have.
As she ran her eyes through the group, she finally spotted their charge—the [Lady] herself. The young woman had apparently managed to pack up her things and was now struggling to load her luggage into the backmost wagon. The bags were so large and heavy that Fayette couldn’t help wondering how the dainty-looking woman had gotten them this far.
Still, looking at the struggling woman, she once again felt the urge to go attend to her needs. Fayette sighed. This much should be safe, right? I think one can expect a guard to help with the luggage.
She walked over to the woman, then gestured for her attention. “Excuse me, miss. Can I help you with that?”
A relieved smile spread on the [Lady’s] face. “Ah, yes, thank you.”
Fayette stepped to her side, and they pushed the large bag inside the wagon together. Then, Fayette picked up the leftover bags from the ground and hefted them up too.
[Brilliant work! Keep it up!]
[Progress towards next level: 50%]
The [Maid] froze midstep. Wait, what? I didn’t do much of anything there!
“Hey, is something wrong?”
Fayette sprang back to motion and looked back at the concerned [Lady]. She plastered a terse smile on. “Oh, no worries. I’ll just go think on one matter.”
Those words said, she quickly shuffled away from the crowd and leaned back against the inn’s wall. What just happened?
She began to go through what she had just done. She had walked over, then helped the woman lift three bags into the wagon, then left. Objectively, there was no way that could be counted as a significant accomplishment. Fayette narrowed her eyes. Or could it be?
She turned to look back at the wagon and looked at the [Lady] who had now sat on it. The woman had taken out a little notebook and was now writing something inside. As Fayette realized the key and her eyes widened.
The first-time bonus! There’s always an experience bonus for doing new things! And does her being a [Lady], maybe even a high-ranking one, add to the challenge or significance factor?
After all, she had done very little [Maid] work directly for Nobles. Thinking on it, she realized this was the first time she had been so direct, close, and personal with serving someone important. And a proper [Lady] at that. How high-ranking is she?
Her heartbeat quickened. Wait a minute, just how many typical Maid things are there that I’ve never done?
She began compiling a list in her mind. Hosting tea parties, helping a [Lady] dress, setting a bath, personally cooking and serving dinner... There are so many things! I’ve never done any of that!
Just how much experience could she get with this?
A plot, an opportunity began to form inside her mind, and she found her final answer for what a [Lady] truly was: They were a way for her to power-level and gain loads of experience! I don’t think there’s much risk of anything ill happening, and if it does, I’ll just have Mireille watch out for me! Why was I so wary of this anyways?
Fayette looked back at the [Lady], who was still scribbling in her notebook and began to see something else. In her eyes, the woman was slowly turning into a delicious, delectable piece of meat, packed full of experience for her to devour. Just you wait—I’ll make sure to go through all my first times with you!
So many levels, for relatively little effort... she felt her face flushing just at the thought and licked her lips. At that same moment, the [Lady] peeked over her notebook and looked the [Maid’s] way. They locked eyes.
In a flash, Fayette brought her face back to a normal countenance. Equally fast, the [Lady] looked away, turning back to her notebook, a slight flush on her cheeks.
Oops, no getting out of control Fay—this will require a subtle touch. Now, just what are all the typical Noble-Servant things I could do for her?
She dug into her apron, getting out all the court drama books she had picked up from the manor—it was time to plot.