Chapter 027. Bad Manners
In the stillness of dawn, all was quiet.
The creaking sound of the wooden floor echoed loudly in the cramped attic room.
At the sound, Hanna, who had been sleeping on the opposite bed, stirred.
“…Leaving already?”
Deborah, who had been moving cautiously in the darkness, flinched at the sleepy voice.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
She had been so careful not to disturb, but the realization that she had woken Hanna filled her with guilt.
“No, it’s not that… Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
Deborah’s face showed confusion at the sudden, unexpected question.
“You were groaning all night… I was wondering if you’re sick again, like last time.”
Hearing the mumbled words with closed eyes, Deborah let out a short, “Ah.”
Had she been making pained noises in her sleep because of the muscle aches plaguing her body?
She realized Hanna must have had a rough night because of her.
“I’m fine. I guess I’m just not used to it yet since it’s my first time.”
“Do things smartly, okay? Don’t just blindly do everything you’re told.”
Though it sounded like nagging, it was a voice filled with concern, worried that something like last time might happen again.
Understanding that sentiment, a soft smile spread across Deborah’s lips.
“Got it. Go back to sleep.”
The laundry maids, responsible for all the laundry in this large mansion, were considered mid-tier in rank, but their working conditions were quite harsh.
Spending the entire day doing physical labor in a laundry room filled with steam and heat, it was said that their workload was comparable to that of the scullery maids, considered the toughest job in the mansion.
After telling Hanna, who had likely stayed up all night because of her, to get more rest, Deborah quickly slipped out of the attic room.
* * *
“Deborah!”
The group was just about to disperse to their assigned tasks for the day.
Caught in the crowd and about to leave the servant hall, Deborah turned around.
It was Molly, a chambermaid.
“Here you go.”
Thud. Molly tossed a large basket down at Deborah’s feet, and Deborah’s gaze alternated blankly between Molly’s face and the basket.
The basket was filled with bed sheets and pillow covers to be changed in various rooms.
“Take care of the rooms from the second-floor hallway to the west end.”
“…”
This morning, Deborah had been assigned to the guest rooms on the second floor’s east side and the third floor.
Changing bed sheets and dusting furniture and decorations in rooms spread across two floors was a task that barely fit into a morning’s work.
And now, to add the rooms from the second-floor hallway to the west end?
That was tantamount to telling Deborah to work all day without even a lunch break.
Deborah wasn’t the type to handle uncomfortable situations well.
She might feel frustrated, but she’d rather endure than let things escalate.
However, even Deborah had moments when she bristled.
Namely, when faced with unfair situations like this.
After staring quietly at the basket for a while, Deborah lifted her head and looked straight at Molly’s face.
“That’s not my assigned area, Molly.”
At Deborah’s calm assertion, Molly’s eyebrows shot up in a scowl.
Her already stern face grew even more menacing.
“What?! Are you saying you won’t do it?”
“…I’m not saying I won’t do it, but I already have my hands full with my assigned area—”
Despite Molly’s sudden shout, Deborah continued speaking calmly.
Thud—
Suddenly, a rough shove to her shoulder sent Deborah stumbling backward.
It happened so abruptly that she had no time to brace herself.
Ugh. The impact of her back hitting the hard floor sent a sharp jolt up her spine.
As Deborah let out a short groan and tried to get up, a large shadow loomed over her head.
“You must not know since you grew up in an orphanage, but here, you follow the rules of this place.”
“…”
Molly, arms crossed, glared down at Deborah with a menacing expression.
Orphan.
That word, always trailing her like a label, should have lost its sting by now, but why did it still hurt so freshly in moments like this?
“You think you’re something special just because you were a parlor maid for a bit? Do what you’re told—”
“…That’s never happened.”
“What?”
Molly’s face flickered with confusion, as if she’d misheard the words that slipped through Deborah’s clenched teeth.
“I’ve never once thought I was anything special.”
“You, you…”
“And I think it’s you, Molly, who’s mistaken.”
In stark contrast to Deborah’s calm demeanor, Molly’s face flushed red with rage, looking ready to explode.
“The person I take orders from isn’t you—it’s Mrs. Charlotte. So I’ll clean the guest rooms on the second floor’s east side and the third floor, as Mrs. Charlotte instructed. Not the rooms from the second-floor hallway to the west end, as you said.”
Deborah spoke clearly and calmly, looking at Molly’s flushed, flustered face.
Molly was noticeably larger than the other maids her age, standing out in the group.
And with a temper as fierce as her rough appearance, she was quick to lash out, making others cower at the slightest raise of her brow.
But this frail-looking newcomer, who seemed like she couldn’t say a word, was staring her down and speaking her mind.
There was no way Molly’s bad temper would let that slide.
As giggles erupted among the watching maids, Molly’s hand shot out in an instant.
A sharp scream burst from Deborah’s lips.
“You little rat!”
Molly’s wild eyes, unable to contain her anger, looked as if she’d lost all reason.
“Wait, let go…”
The pain of her scalp being yanked felt like her hair was being torn out.
Deborah struggled to free herself from the grip, but Molly’s strength was overwhelming, unyielding.
In her frenzied state, escaping that grasp was even harder.
“Alright, you’re in for it today. I’ll fix that bad attitude of yours!”
Still gripping Deborah’s hair, Molly spat on her other hand and shouted at someone nearby, “You! Close the door!”
Bang—!
The door slammed shut, and the servant hall turned into a scene of terrifying violence.
* * *
The air in the study was as quiet as ever.
If not for the occasional sound of pages turning or the scratch of a pen on paper, it might have felt as if time itself had stopped.
In the midst of this scene was Raymond.
Seated at a mahogany desk, he had been reviewing a pile of letters and documents in the same position for a while.
From managing and overseeing the vast wealth of the Cheister family to fulfilling the political and social roles tied to his ducal title, his desk was always buried under a mountain of paperwork.
As a result, Raymond’s workday often began quite early.
Rising at the crack of dawn as the eastern sky brightened, he would have a light meal before heading straight to his study or office.
Most days, he went to the more open first-floor office, but today, needing to review troublesome documents, he moved to the quiet second-floor study.
The troublesome documents were related to one of the most headache-inducing issues of late: the parliamentary standoff over “naval expansion.”
The letters came from the House of Lords, composed of high-ranking nobles and clergy, and the House of Commons, made up of lesser nobles and commoners.
The issue was simple.
On one side, those pushing for naval expansion under the pretext of military strengthening; on the other, those citing the increased tax burden and financial strain on the kingdom.
Well, their arguments sounded convincing, but the underlying reasons were simpler.
It boiled down to their respective interests in “naval expansion tied to royal power.”
In any case, the reason they sent letters to Elfengrin every day was that Raymond, as the head of the Cheister family, was one of the few who could mediate between the royal family, nobles, and commoners.
Ugh—perhaps from staring at the endless stream of letters and documents, a sharp headache throbbed momentarily.
Tossing the papers down, Raymond leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers firmly against his temples.
Was it because he’d been dealing with so many concerns lately?
Though he hadn’t been at it for long, an overwhelming wave of fatigue crashed over him.
With a long sigh, Raymond stood up.
He realized that forcing himself to keep reading in this state was a waste of time.
Perhaps some fresh air would ease this pounding headache a bit.
With long strides, Raymond crossed the study.
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By Anna 💓
