Chapter 4: 4

When I finished buying the goods and returned to the mansion, the maid led me to the kitchen. 

 

 

“You are late.” 

 

 

“First time.” 

 

 

Today’s dinner was a vegetable stew. 

 

 

While I peeled the potatoes, the maid cut up the carrots and onions and seasoned the stew. 

 

 

I was touched when I sat at the table and was greeted by a hot steaming stew. 

 

 

‘How long has it been since I had such a warm meal? And there’s cutlery, too.’ 

 

 

But are we the only ones eating? 

 

 

“By the way, the master takes care of his own meals, so you don’t have to worry about it.” 

 

 

 I see. 

 

 

 I took a spoonful of the stew, savored it and swallowed it. 

 

 

Even I, who lived like a beggar, was surprised by the taste in my mouth. 

 

 

“This tastes awful.” 

 

 

“It tastes awful?” 

“Yep.” 

 

 

“Just keep that to yourself. I’m not good at cooking.” 

 

 

We emptied our plates without saying a word. For your information, the plate I was emptying was the third plate, and the head maid looked at her slave eating nonstop with fed-up eyes. 

 

 

“It’s only been a day since we met, but I have to say, I’ve never seen a maid like a Daisy. I’m not bragging, but there are a lot of maids who come and go from the Weatherwoods mansion. Most of them quit or just run away in a short-term period.” 

 

 

I think I know why they run away. To subtly answer, I just kept moving my spoon. 

 

 

“How did you end up doing this work?” 

 

 

How did I end up doing it? 

 

 

After I escaped Queen Island with the help of soldiers, I encountered a big problem. I had no money to live on. 

 

 

My hometown, Queen Island, and my home in it, was burned to the ground long ago. I had also lost the identity of the younger brother that I’d been using for 10 years, so I had nowhere to go to get money. 

 

 

There is little a woman who has no connection and no skills can do. 

 

 

The factory does not employ without a letter of introduction, and the farm is not a place where one can work all year-round because of the off-season. Store employees ae not provided with lodging, so the way only way I could get both food and money was to become a maid. 

 

 

That was the reason my reply to the glassed-interviewer’s question was, “I want a vicious employer.” 

 

 

Because I would be forced to work in such a place and stay. 

 

 

“Maid.” 

 

 

I don’t think the result of that choice was bad. 

 

 

In the first place, the time I’d been given was three years to live, and in order to extent my lifespan, I had to find a certain item in the city of Midwintertree. 

 

 

Since I had no intention to save up to enjoy luxuries, I did not need more than enough money to live on. I’d never thought about it. 

 

 

The maid’s eyes as she looked at me were full of pity. 

 

 

“If it’s hard to answer, you don’t have to tell me. Who in this world doesn’t have a story? Doesn’t everyone keep something hidden away in their heart?” 

 

 

I have neither a home nor money, so instead of replying, I changed my mind and kept my mouth shut. 

 

 

‘If I tell her I’m broke, I might be worked like a slave even more.’ 

 

 

Let’s just pretend to be a person full of stories. I might get less work out of pity. 

 

 

Still, I ended up getting dish-washing duty that day.  

 

 

The next day. 

 

 

I cleaned the house like a dog under the direction of the maid. 

 

 

“Miss Daisy has great strength and stamina. You’re going to wipe the dust off the ceiling on the second floor today. Did you know? If you don’t take care of it for a long time, even the ceiling catches dust.” 

 

 

After dinner, I closed my eyes for just a little while, but when I awoke, the sun had already risen. Can this be true? This was my first time experiencing this after rolling on the battlefield. 

 

 

The day after the next day; 

 

 

Today I worked like a cow, not a dog. 

 

 

“A new employee will arrive tomorrow morning. The schedule will be harder than today, so we’ll finish work an hour earlier today. First, let’s clean each room’s fireplace.” 

 

 

About three days later, I became quite familiar with a maid’s job. 

 

 

It was about time I looked into the ‘reason’ I came to Midwintertree, so I inquired the head maid and market merchants about any information about the item. 

 

 

But the answers that came back was nothing but the obvious.  

 

 

“Hmm. Do you mean the legacy that Dian Cecht left behind before he died? It must definitely exist. Wouldn’t it be enshrined in the treasury of some great nobleman?” 

 

 

“Dian Cecht’s legacy? Oh, that’s right. They say there’s such a thing hidden in this city, but…isn’t that just a rumor? No one but the children believe it, miss.” 

 

 

<Dian Cecht’s Legacy.> 

 

 

Yes, I settled here in Midwintree in search of ‘The Eye’, one of the five relics left by Dian Cecht. 

 

 

Dian Cecht was a powerful healer who could raise even the dead. 

 

 

He divided his power into each of his relics and sealed it, and a myth – which is not really a myth – has been passed down that if one gathers all five relics of his legacy, any incurable disease will be cured. 

 

 

“It remains to be seen whether the treatment will cure a broken soul, of course.” 

 

 

Dian Cecht, along with Mephisto, was called a demi-god. It must be something at least worth looking forward to. If only I could find it. 

 

 

In this way, I had a long and tiring day, looking for Dian Cecht’s legacy whilst still doing all my tasks as a maid.  

 

 

It was at midnight of that exhausting day. 

 

 

The mind, which was wandering between reality and sleep, suddenly rose sharply. 

 

 

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“One person.” 

 

 

Someone had crept into the bedroom. 

 

 

The steps, breaths, the timing. It was a great infiltration in many terms. I thought of threatening the other party by attacking him, but held it in.  

 

 

Highly trained assassins usually kill themselves when they feel the crisis of not being able to complete their mission coming up. It was a very bad habit. 

 

 

Therefore, it will be difficult to identify the intruder unless I aimed for a loophole. 

 

 

“Wake up, Maid.”  

 

 

Soon, a sharp blade that cut through the cold air touched right under my chin. 

 

 

“If you scream, I’ll cut your throat with this. Listen with your mouth shut. Follow my orders if you wish to live.” 

 

 

When I opened my eyes calmly, cold blue eyes were staring at me. 

 

 

“From today on, you are a spy. Monitor the movements of Viscount Weatherwoods and report them regularly.” 

 

 

“Why?” 

 

 

“Didn’t you hear me tell you to shut up? This is an order, not a demand. Like I said, follow my orders if you want to leave.” 

 

 

The intruder seemed a bit bewildered when I asked again. 

 

 

“Why?” 

 

 

“You must be half asleep,” he said, before I flicked him on the head. 

 

 

 The confused intruder stumbled because of a small flick. 

 

 

Not missing any movement, I aimed for the intruder’s mouth and gouged the pill out of his mouth with my fingers. 

 

 

A pill ostentatiously fitted inside a molar in the back, otherwise known as the ‘Bite of Mercy.’ 

 

 

It was a suicide pill that was usually used by the Assassination or information guild. 

 

 

“Why?” 

 

 

I stuffed a blanket into the mouth of the intruder, who had come to his senses quite quickly. 

 

 

 I crushed the man down on the floor and took away all the tools hidden on his body and threw them away. 

 

 

“Why?” 

 

 

A long needle-like blade, a hard dagger, a medicine powder of unknown utility, a leaf shuriken… 

 

 

And finally, when I threw away the emergency ‘bite of mercy’ hidden in his sleeve, the fighting spirit completely faded from the intruder’s eyes. 

 

 

There was no way to suicide left for him now. 

 

 

“Be ready to answer.” 

 

 

In despair, the intruder, with his eyes closed, nodded his head. When I took the blanket out of his mouth, he took a rough breath.  

 

 

He moved his lips in utter disbelief. 

 

 

“You’re not an ordinary maid. Who the hell are you?” 

 

 

“Answer.” 

 

 

“…I only accepted and took charge of the request that came into the guild. I don’t know who entrusted the request or why we should monitor Viscount Weatherwood.” 

 

 

“What number am I?” 

 

 

“As far as I can remember, this is at least the third time this has happened.” 

 

 

That meant that at least three maids were threatened in the same way as I was. 

 

 

There is only one goal. To keep an eye on the Viscount Weatherwood. 

 

 

“What about the previous maids?”  

 

 

“…….” 

 

 

“Answer.” 

 

 

“I don’t know. My role is to take an oath of obedience from the maid. I’m not involved in anything before or after that.” 

 

 

The assassin pointed to a small tack-shaped earring in his right ear. 

 

 

Seeing the spiritual energy flowing out, this earring seemed to be a magic tool. 

 

 

‘It’s a magic tool to take an oath.’ 

 

 

An oath is a promise made with the soul as collateral. 

 

 

It was also a taboo magic that was banned a long time ago, because those who broke the rule would die and their souls were destroyed. 

 

 

“I can’t believe you forced such a terrible oath upon ordinary maids, and more than three times too?” 

 

 

It was certainly strange when I thought about it. 

 

 

Although I’ve only worked for a day or two, I know that the Weatherwoods mansion is a bit hard to work at. But it wasn’t terrible enough job for a series of maids to quit or run away one after another. 

 

 

The owner of the house did not show his nose anywhere, the assigned bedroom was spacious and well-furnished, and the daily working hours were observed strictly from 6 am. To 7 pm. 

 

 

Therefore, the maids were more likely to have disappeared, not run away. Because of reasons other than one’s own choice.  

 

 

‘However, there is no Viscount Weatherwood in this mansion.’ 

 

 

It was not difficult for me, who’d been on the battlefield for 10 years, to detect other people’s presence. The Viscount Weatherwood had most certainly vacated this mansion. That too, for most likely a long time. 

 

 

‘If you’ve sent an assassin three times, then the client can’t be unaware of that.’ 

 

 

An ownerless mansion. 

 

 

A client who constantly monitors such a mansion. 

 

 

This mansion is suspicious in many ways. 

 

 

 

 

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