Chapter 4

After buying groceries and returning to the mansion, the butler led me to the kitchen.

"You're late."

"First time."

Tonight's dinner was vegetable stew.

While I was peeling potatoes, the butler was preparing carrots and onions and adjusting the seasoning of the stew.

When I sat at the table and faced the warm, steaming stew, my heart ached.

'How long has it been since I tasted such warm food? And there are even utensils.'

But are we the only ones eating?

"By the way, the master takes care of his own meals, so you don't need to worry about it."

That's right.

I took a spoonful of the stew, savoring the taste and swallowing it.

The flavor that spread in my mouth was so surprising that even I, who had lived like a beggar, was taken aback.

"It's tasteless."

"Tasteless?"

"Yes."

"Such thoughts should be kept to yourself. I'm not naturally good at cooking, you see."

We finished our plates in silence. By the way, this was my third plate, and the butler watched me with a look of disgust, as if I were a slave who never stopped eating.

"I've only known you for a day, but I've never seen a maid like Daisy. Not to brag, but a lot of maids have come and gone from the Weatherwood mansion. Most of them quit or ran away after a short period."

I can guess why they ran away. It was a delicate question, so I just kept moving the spoon.

"How did you end up doing this job?"

How did I end up doing this?

Thanks to the soldiers' help, I managed to escape from Queen Island, but I had a big problem: I had no money to live on.

My hometown, Queen Island, had burned down long ago, and I had lost the identity of my younger brother, which I had used for 10 years. There was no place to get money.

There are few jobs a woman with no connections and no skills can do.

Without a recommendation, you can't get a job in a factory, and farms have off-seasons, so you can't work all year round. As a shop assistant, you don't get accommodation, so the only way to get both food and lodging was to become a maid.

That's why I answered the interview with the glasses-wearing interviewer that I wanted a "cruel employer."

I had to work, no matter what.

'Maid, huh.'

I think it wasn't a bad choice.

I only had three years to live, and to extend my life, I had to find a certain "item" in this city of Midwinter.

I didn't plan to save money to indulge in luxury; I just needed enough to live on. I had never even thought about it.

The butler's gaze on me seemed a bit pitiful.

"If it's hard to answer, you don't have to. Everyone has a story, don't they? We all carry one in our hearts."

I was about to say that I had no home and no money, but I changed my mind and closed my mouth.

'If I show that I'm penniless, they might treat me like a slave even more.'

I'll just pretend to have a lot of stories. Maybe they'll pity me and give me less work.

Still, the dishes were my responsibility.

The next day.

Following the butler's orders, I cleaned the mansion like a dog.

"Daisy, you have a lot of strength and stamina. Today, we'll clean the dust from the second-floor ceiling. Did you know? If you don't take care of it for a long time, dust can accumulate on the ceiling too."

I had only closed my eyes for a short while after dinner when a new day had already begun. Is this real? It was the first time since the war that I had experienced this.

The day after that.

Today, I worked like an ox, not a dog.

"Tomorrow morning, a new employee will arrive. The schedule will be even more demanding, so we'll finish an hour earlier. Let's start by cleaning the fireplaces in each room."

By the fourth day, I was quite familiar with the maid's work.

I thought it was time to start looking into the "purpose" for which I came to Midwinter, so I asked the butler and the market merchants about the "item."

But the answers were predictable.

"Hmm. Are you talking about the legacy that Dian Ket left before he died? It must exist. It's probably enshrined in some noble's treasure vault."

"Dian Ket's legacy? Ah, yes. They say there's such an item hidden in this city... but it's just a rumor. No one believes it except for children, miss."

<Dian Ket's Legacy>

That's right. I came to Midwinter to find one of the five relics left by Dian Ket, the "Eye."

Dian Ket, a great healer who could even revive the dead, divided his power among the relics. A legend says that if you gather all five relics, you can cure any incurable disease.

'Whether this healing can cure a broken soul is unknown.'

Dian Ket, along with the great mage Mephisto, was called a demigod. It's certainly worth hoping for, if I can find it.

Thus, I spent my days searching for Dian Ket's legacy while working as a maid.

As the tiring day drew to a close at midnight, my mind, which was wandering between reality and sleep, suddenly became sharp.

'One person.'

Someone had sneaked into the bedroom.

Their steps, breathing, and timing were excellent. I considered threatening them first, but decided to wait.

Highly trained assassins usually commit suicide if they feel their mission is in danger. It's a very bad habit.

So, I had to wait for a moment to expose the intruder.

"Get up, maid."

Soon, a cold blade was pressed to my chin.

"If you scream, I'll slit your throat. Listen quietly. If you want to live, follow my orders."

When I opened my eyes calmly, a cold, blue-eyed gaze was staring at me.

"From today, you are a spy. Monitor the movements of the Baron Weatherwood and report regularly."

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear me say to be quiet? This is an order, not a request. If you want to live, follow my orders."

The intruder seemed momentarily flustered by my question.

"Why?"

"Are you still half-asleep?" the intruder muttered, and I smacked them on the head.

The intruder, half-dazed by the light slap, staggered.

Seizing the moment, I inserted my fingers into the intruder's mouth and removed a hidden pill.

A pill that was perfectly fitted into the molar, known as the <Merciful Bite>.

A suicide pill favored by the Assassins' Guild.

"Why?"

I stuffed a pillow into the intruder's mouth as they quickly regained their senses.

I pinned the man to the floor and took away the hidden weapons from all over his body.

"Why?"

A long, needle-like blade, a sturdy dagger, a powder of unknown use, and a leaf-shaped shuriken...

Finally, when I threw away the emergency <Merciful Bite> hidden in the sleeve, the intruder's fighting spirit completely faded.

Now, he had no means to commit suicide.

"Ready to answer."

The intruder, who had closed his eyes in despair and then opened them, nodded. After removing the pillow from his mouth, his rough breathing continued.

He looked at me with eyes that couldn't believe what was happening.

"You're not an ordinary maid. Who are you?"

"Answer."

"......I only took on the job that came to the guild. I don't know who commissioned it or why the Baron Weatherwood needs to be monitored."

"Am I the first?"

"According to what I've heard, at least the third."

That means at least three maids before me were coerced in the same way.

The goal was one: to monitor the Baron Weatherwood.

"What about the previous maids?"

"......"

"Answer."

"I don't know. My role is to make the maid swear obedience. I don't get involved before or after that."

The assassin pointed to a small earring in the shape of a pin on his right ear.

The mystical aura emanating from it suggested that it was a magical artifact.

'It must be a magical artifact to make the maid swear.'

A vow is a promise made with one's soul as collateral.

Breaking it results in the destruction of the soul and death, making it a forbidden magic that was banned long ago.

'To make such a terrifying vow on an ordinary maid, and more than three times?'

Upon reflection, it did seem strange.

Although I had only worked for a day, the Weatherwood mansion was not a terrible place for maids to run away or quit.

The master was never seen, the assigned bedroom was spacious and clean, and the daily schedule was strictly followed from 6 AM to 7 PM.

Therefore, it was more likely that the maids had disappeared, not by their own will but by someone else's.

'But the Baron Weatherwood is not even in the mansion.'

Detecting someone's presence is not difficult for me, who has spent 10 years on the battlefield.

I am certain that the Baron Weatherwood has been absent from the mansion for a long time.

'If more than three assassins were sent, the client must know this fact.'

An empty mansion.

A client who consistently monitors such a mansion.

This mansion is suspicious in many ways.