Chapter 014: The Ruined Apron
‘So foolish… How did I not think of it at all?’
The moment she opened the door to the parlor, that very thought struck her.
Deborah felt utterly pathetic for not even considering who the guests she was guiding might be meeting.
Upon recognizing Deborah’s face as she entered, Duke Cheister’s expression hardened instantly into an unreadable mask, but whatever it was, it was clearly not a positive emotion.
It had only been a few days since she vowed never to catch his eye again, yet here she was, boldly appearing before him. How infuriating that must be…
Even though it wasn’t something she had deliberately orchestrated, the string of strange coincidences made Deborah want to crawl into a mouse hole.
If the other party weren’t the master of the Cheister family, she would have wanted to pour out her grievances, saying, ‘It wasn’t my doing before, and it absolutely isn’t this time either. It’s just a coincidence.’
But given her position, how could she dare open her mouth?
As a parlor maid who had guided guests to the parlor, all she could do was stand like a piece of furniture, serving the guests as instructed and nothing more.
* * *
Seated at a desk in one corner of the parlor, reviewing some documents, Raymond looked up from the papers at the sound of the door clicking open.
Though he wasn’t pleased about the sudden visit without prior appointment, Raymond had reluctantly agreed because he knew Earl Leicester was the type to persistently request meetings if not today.
Surely Edward, too, had been dragged along reluctantly.
Wondering what could be so urgent that they arrived so soon after sending word, Raymond set down the documents he’d been casually reviewing and raised his gaze—
His brow furrowed sharply.
Robin, who was about to gather the documents Raymond had been reading as the guests arrived, noticed his master’s expression sour and curiously glanced toward the door.
“Oh? Deborah!”
Having recently heard that Deborah had been reassigned as a parlor maid, Robin had been quietly looking forward to seeing her more often.
Seeing her so frequently now made him unexpectedly happy.
“Don’t make a fuss. Gather the documents and leave.”
Caught off guard by the joy of seeing her unexpectedly and nearly forgetting the documents, Robin was halted by Raymond’s low voice.
At the sharp, resolute command, Robin smacked his lips, gave a regretful glance, and left the parlor.
As he passed the doorway, Robin bowed to the guests and didn’t forget to flash a smile at Deborah.
After Robin exited, Deborah guided Earl Leicester and Edward into the parlor.
By now, the scowl on Raymond’s face from seeing Deborah had vanished as if it had never been there.
“I’m sorry for visiting so suddenly, Duke Chester. The matter is quite urgent—”
Earl Leicester, who usually carried himself with the arrogance typical of nobles, now wore a softened expression, as if that demeanor had never existed.
Raymond rose from his chair, striding with long legs to the sofa positioned in front of it.
“Please, have a seat.”
Raymond exchanged a brief glance with Edward, who was approaching the sofa.
Edward’s expression carried an apology toward Raymond, but Raymond seemed to already understand the situation.
Once all three were seated on the sofa, Deborah cautiously approached, as if she had been waiting.
More precisely, she approached Raymond, clasping her hands respectfully and adopting a polite posture.
“…Shall I bring tea?”
At her slightly trembling voice, a thick vein in Raymond’s neck twitched momentarily.
The refreshing citrus scent emanating from Deborah, now standing close, teased Raymond’s senses.
Keeping his gaze fixed forward, Raymond gave a slight nod.
Deborah, inwardly sighing with relief at his response, quietly left the parlor.
“The last time I visited, the maid was quite dainty and pretty, but this one’s rather tantalizing. Not just her looks, but her body is so soft and graceful—”
The moment Deborah left the parlor, Earl Leicester, his eyes narrowed, spoke in a crude tone as he ogled her retreating figure.
Edward, seated beside him, immediately frowned at Leicester’s words, but Raymond’s expression remained impassive.
“Coming to Duke Chester’s mansion is always a feast for the eyes. Where do you find such maids? Don’t keep it to yourself—share the secret with me.”
“Indeed.”
Edward shook his head slightly at Leicester’s boisterous, objectifying laughter, but Raymond merely leaned back against the sofa, offering a curt, indifferent reply.
“Earl, why don’t you get to the reason for your visit?”
Unable to tolerate Leicester’s behavior—barging in unannounced, using his friendship with Edward as leverage, and now idly critiquing the household maids—Edward spoke up first, knowing it was rude.
Only then did Earl Leicester, with an “oh, right,” straighten up in his seat.
“Duke Cheister, the reason I came so urgently today is—”
A confidential conversation began to unfold in the parlor.
* * *
Deborah carefully lifted a silver tray adorned with intricate patterns, neatly arranged with an amber-shaped glass teapot and cups.
When she had first entered the parlor and saw Duke Chester’s expression sour, she had flinched, but fortunately, he had nodded nonchalantly when she asked if she should bring tea.
‘Alright, just don’t make a mistake… no mistakes…’
Deborah repeated to herself several times, as if casting a spell.
Having made a poor first impression on the master of the mansion, letting that impression stick would do her no good.
Nodding firmly to herself, Deborah took a step forward.
“Oh…?!”
With a short cry, her feet tangled, and she lost her balance, tumbling forward.
*Clang!*
“Aah!”
A loud crash accompanied Deborah’s scream.
The teapot shattered, and as she fell, her hand pressed into the shards, embedding glass into her palm.
Bright red blood seeped into the pale orange tea spilled on the floor.
“Oh my, you should be more careful. So clumsy—”
A sudden giggle came from above, and Deborah slowly looked up.
Spotting Ludmilla and a few maids standing around her with arms crossed, as if spectating, Deborah realized they had tripped her.
“What a shame. That expensive parlor maid uniform, barely worn, is now all stained with blood. Tsk tsk—”
To an outsider, Ludmilla’s expression might have seemed genuinely concerned for Deborah.
But that concerned look quickly transformed into something entirely different.
“That’s what I’m saying—everyone has a role that suits their station. A lowly orphan girl like you, stealing what belongs to others and acting out of place, gets punished like this.”
“…”
Ludmilla glared at Deborah, who sat silently on the floor with her lips tightly shut, staring back. After a moment, Ludmilla abruptly turned and left.
The onlookers who had been glancing at the scene also returned to their places, leaving Deborah alone, sitting forlornly.
Deborah stared blankly at the mess before her.
Her white apron, soaked with tea and blood, was ruined.
The shattered teapot and cups lay in pieces, and her palm was a mess.
But she couldn’t just keep sitting on the floor like this.
Deborah began picking up the glass shards with her hands, sweeping them onto the silver tray.
The sharp glass kept nicking her fingers, but now wasn’t the time to care about that.
Her movements grew more frantic with her anxious state of mind.
* * *
Deborah returned to the parlor much later than when she had left to fetch the tea.
The three men, engrossed in serious conversation with Raymond resting his chin on his hand, turned their varied gazes toward the late-arriving maid.
Deborah, with a tense expression, approached the sofa.
“…I’m sorry for being late.”
Holding the silver tray, Deborah apologized in a small voice and hurriedly placed the teacups on the sofa table.
She poured fragrant, pale yellow flower tea from the transparent teapot into the cups and placed them in front of each of the three men.
The three men silently watched the series of actions as Deborah returned to the
parlor, poured the tea, and set the cups before them.
“Hm—there’s definitely a different vibe from earlier. What could it be…”
The silence was broken by Earl Leicester’s voice.
Bringing the fragrant teacup to his lips, he gazed at Deborah with an intrigued, almost predatory look.
Deborah, who had finished her task and was about to step back from their gazes, stood awkwardly in place with an uneasy expression at Leicester’s comment.
The earl, scanning Deborah up and down with narrowed eyes, suddenly widened them as if he had noticed something.
“Now I see what’s different—you’ve ditched the apron.”
The word “ditched” sounded odd, but at Leicester’s remark, Deborah’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“If you go out one more time, I’m curious to see what you’ll come back wearing—don’t you all think so?”
Earl Leicester laughed boisterously as if making a witty jest, but no one in the parlor joined in his amusement.
Raymond, already irritated that the parlor maid who went to fetch tea had taken so long to return, was dumbfounded by her reappearance.
Where had she discarded her white apron? Showing up in just the drab, somber maid uniform was absurd, and he let out a wry chuckle.
He couldn’t tell if he was unfairly prejudiced against this maid or if she was just inherently strange.
Just as he was about to reprimand her for serving guests in such bizarre attire, Leicester’s crude remark made something inside Raymond, which he had been suppressing, snap.
Seeing her face momentarily flush with embarrassment only fueled the cold fire rising somewhere in his throat.
“Get out.”
At the sudden icy command, Deborah’s shoulders shrank.
Her lips trembled before she managed to force out a timid voice.
“…But, the service…”
At her question about who would attend to them, Raymond’s blue eyes shot fiercely toward her face.
“You’re going to keep serving in that state?”
His mocking retort made Deborah’s face freeze solid.
Biting her lip tightly, Deborah gave a polite bow and quietly retreated from the parlor.
“Haha—I was just joking, no need to snap like that.”
Earl Leicester, sensing the tense atmosphere, gave an awkward laugh, but even after Deborah left the parlor, Raymond remained silent for a long while.
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By Anna 💓
