A sweep towards the front door.
It was early in the morning, and the faint light peaked through slightly.
The first task on the schedule assigned to me as a domestic maid was to clean the main entrance. There were only three people coming and going, so it was always relatively clean, but it had to be swept every day anyway.
Because that was a maid's job.
After dusting, the next thing I had to do was water the small pots on each step of the stairs.
In fact, originally this was a gardener's job, but the distinction between occupations had no value in this mansion. In the Weatherwoods family, everyone cleaned together, tended the garden together, and cooked together. The reason was that the owner's wallet was in a deep deficit.
"Ah!"
I stopped watering the pots and instead shifted my gaze toward the iron gate beyond the desolate garden.
A guy had been coughing with difficulty for a while now. If you added the men around him who seemed to be his subordinates, the total number was four.
When our eyes met, he put on a very arrogant expression, and anyone could tell he wanted me to speak to him.
But I didn't have to introduce myself.
Because the mansion's maid greeted the man on the other side of the small garden.
"Are you here again?"
"Oh, what do you mean by 'again'? Other people would find it quite embarrassing if they heard you."
"As I said last time, the time before, and the time before that, we are not getting rid of the mansion. Please leave."
Was he a real estate agent?
I turned my head and continued watering the seeds I had bought cheaply at the market. I didn't really know the name of the flower that would sprout from these seeds. I had just bought the cheapest and fullest bag of seeds.
"That's not why I've come today. I must see the new Viscount Weatherwoods. Please show me the mansion."
"I'm sorry, sir, but the Master is currently away."
"I've already heard that three times this month!"
"I am also sorry. The Master is very busy."
A furious response erupted.
"Busy, you say! At this point, I can't help but wonder, is it really true that there is a new Viscount Weatherwoods in this mansion? In more than a week, I've only seen three employees coming and going from here. Everyone is talking about it being an abandoned, ownerless haunted house. What about the gloomy exterior of the mansion? Don't you think it ruins the beauty of the street?"
"That does not concern us..."
"It doesn't matter! Step out of the way! I can't take this anymore!"
The man raised his hand and pushed the maid's shoulder, entering through the main entrance. He looked around the small, dilapidated garden and muttered with an expression as if he had chewed on something foul.
"Tsk. To abandon such a beautiful mansion like this... hey, maid!"
Did he just call me?
"Why are you staring at me like that? You're not coming, eh?" asked the man, with his arms crossed and an arrogant expression painted on his face. "How long has it been since the new Viscount Weatherwoods abandoned this mansion? Two years? Three years?"
I replied, remembering Viscount Weatherwoods, who would currently be sleeping soundly in his room.
"He didn't abandon it."
"What?"
"He didn't abandon the mansion."
The man, who had been looking at me with a sullen expression, asked again with newly acquired patience.
"By the way you speak... is the new Viscount Weatherwoods' health in critical condition? Is it difficult for him to move even once a week?"
No, although he remained motionless for ten days in a row, his skin was definitely as bright and smooth as a hard-boiled egg.
I replied again: "He is healthy."
"Heh, cheeky girl. Don't you know me? Well, it should have been obvious. A maid hired by a mansion like this wouldn't do anything anyway. I am Baron Fedegil, a close friend of your former and deceased Master."
So, what do you want me to do about it?
I wasn't surprised in the least and wanted to mock him. The surprise his words caused was that of an ant.
The Baron had visited three times this month and had asked to get rid of the mansion.
"...He asked me for a favor before he died: to help the new Viscount establish his position in the city. So don't worry and be honest with me. Is something wrong with the Viscount? Is there really nothing I can do to help? Hmm?"
"There is nothing."
The Baron, excited by the polite response, widened his eyes.
"There, you see! I was convinced by your unheard-of comments. There is no new Viscount Weatherwoods here! It is an empty mansion with two maids. If the Viscount really lived here, no maid would be able to answer like that!"
Now I could be sure.
This man was a swindler seeking to acquire the Weatherwoods family legacy for himself. Wicked, shameless, flea. What on earth are you trying to steal from a house that has even sold its silverware?
The Baron, who forced open the door in a different way than any guest, pushed me inside the house.
Startled by his actions, the other maid followed us nervously.
"What is this about, Baron?"
The Baron snorted at the maid's cry.
"You, go out and watch so that no one enters the mansion, and you, go find something we can use for a beating. It must be perfect. I also wish to see how long the Weatherwoods maid can keep her mouth shut. I will find out what you're hiding at any cost."
"Yes."
"I see."
By the Baron's order, one person closed the main door and waited in front of it, and another disappeared down the right hallway, leaving another standing between the maid and me.
The Baron, still looking at the interior of the mansion, fixed his eyes on a frame hanging on the stairs. It was a portrait of the former Viscount Weatherwoods.
"That face is so nostalgic. How sad my old friend would be to see this in such poor condition! Has it already been four years since he died in the Magic War?"
The Magic War.
It would take a long time to explain what kind of war it was, so let's move on. The only thing to remember was that it was a terrible war that lasted almost a decade.
The Baron smiled mischievously as he gazed at the interior view with greedy eyes.
"For him, who dedicated his life to our country, I must help the new Viscount Weatherwoods. That is the only way to honor our fallen friends. Yes, that's right."
The comment was brief.
But I felt hot blood spreading through my body as my heart began to beat rapidly.
Simply dismissing the Mado war didn't mean that the numerous sacrifices made in it could be so easily dismissed. Those who died in battle are those who left to protect their loved ones and friends. Trying to use such a noble sacrifice as an excuse for your own dirty desires?
It was something I couldn't overlook as a person who observed the ten years of horrors with my own eyes.
Every man had a duty, and this man's duty was to honor his friend's sacrifice. Not to go after the Weatherwoods' property.
However, the Baron's actions were far from those of someone honoring the sacrifices of his close friends. In other words, it also meant that the Baron was not a close friend of the former Viscount Weatherwoods.
A man who didn't know the owner has entered the mansion by force; a thief is what he is.
That was my conclusion.
"I've brought it, Baron."
"Very well, I love how strong this one looks."
The Baron, to whom his subordinates handed a shovel, stood in front of me again. I think he was going to use that shovel to hit me.
The maid's expression hardened coldly.
"Stop now, Baron Fedegail. Do not touch the girl. Instead..."
"Oh, maid. I'm very proud of you for trying to cover up this core matter. So I'll give you one last chance. Tell me the whereabouts of Viscount Weatherwoods. I promise I won't hurt any employee of this mansion, including you. I mean it."
"The chance is given by me, not the Baron. Please calm down for the sake of your well-being..."
"Do you still not understand what I'm saying? If you don't open your mouth when I count to three, I'll start hitting this girl. No one will be able to complain about any injustice. I'll take this girl with me and sell her as a slave to the East! Now, one..."
Speaking of the East, you're also trafficking slaves, eh.
Is he a thief without principles and also trash who even trades in slaves?
As a sincere Weatherwoods maid, the attitude I needed to show was obvious.
The maid called me with nervous eyes.
"Daisy."
For your information, Daisy is my name.
As if the situation in front of him were funny, the smiling Baron raised two fingers.
"Two."
"Wait for now."
I nodded like an obedient maid.
"Yes."
And I waved my right hand.
The neatly dressed maid only shook her right hand horizontally, but the Baron went flying like a stone and crashed into the wall.
The whole area fell silent in an instant. The Baron's men stared at the fallen Baron and ran toward him.
"Baron!"
The maid called me with stern eyes.
"Daisy!"
"Yes."
"I'm sure I warned you to hold it in. How is it that you didn't listen? You know perfectly well that if you use your strength, the lives of these sickly raccoons will be at risk!"
"I am holding it in."
"Are you saying that even after seeing what you've done?"
"At least they can withstand my right hand, look."
I slapped the cheeks of the two men who tried to hold up the fallen Baron with my right hand.
"Cough."
"Khak!"
On top of the Baron now lay two robust bodies. That was a very close relationship.
"Your right hand is unstoppable. I'll give you a good scolding after work, just wait."
The maid stared at me again, but she couldn't help it.
My right hand often followed my heart, not my head. Sometimes, even as the owner of my body, I find it difficult to control it.
"What...?"
After finishing off the third man who had entered through the door without fear, I asked the maid.
"Should I throw them somewhere?"
The maid glared at me, the person primary responsible for the mansion's security.
"Don't say such terrible things. Where did Mr. Rue go?"
When the undesirable name was heard, my forehead naturally wrinkled.
"To buy food."
"Ah, it can't be helped. These people, in front of the mansion..."
"Should I cut their throats and hang them?"
"No, we'll send them back normally. Normally."
"If we simply send them back, it will be problematic later."
"Does it become simple when you cut their throats? It's surprising how rational your judgment can be, Miss Daisy. I'm sure they did something wrong, but I don't think the crime they committed is big enough to kill them. It's fine to just send them back. This was self-defense in itself; this will end at the proper level. Trust the Weatherwoods; this place will protect us until the end."
It was a persuasion that was completely doubtful to me, knowing the reality of the Weatherwoods.
But a maid had to bend if told to do so.
At the maid's request, I had to lift the adult men like a princess and carry them out of the mansion.
I placed them in a row on the sidewalk where the carriages circulated and prayed that the horses would trample them to death.
A maid's second name was hardship. Our struggles had no end.