When I finished buying the goods and returned to the mansion, the maid took me to the kitchen.
"You're late."
"First time."
Today's dinner was a vegetable stew.
While I peeled the potatoes, the maid cut the carrots and onions and seasoned the stew.
I was moved when I sat at the table and was greeted by a steaming hot stew.
How long has it been since I ate such a hot meal? And there are also cutleries. 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 that."
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 horrible."
"It tastes horrible?"
"Yes."
"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 of cleaning looked at her slave eating nonstop with tired eyes.
"It's only been a day since we met, but I must say I've never seen a maid like Daisy. I'm not bragging, but there are many maids who come and go from the Weatherwoods mansion. Most of them quit or simply run away within a short period."
I think I knew why they were running away. To respond subtly, I kept moving my spoon.
"How did you end up doing this job?"
How did I end up doing it?
After escaping from Queen Island with the help of the soldiers, I encountered a big problem. I had no money to live on.
My hometown, Queen, and my house in it, had been burned long ago. I had also lost the identity of the younger brother I had been using for ten years, so I had nowhere to go to get money.
There was little a woman who had no connections or skills could do.
The factory didn't employ without a letter of introduction, and the farm wasn't a place where one could work all year round due to the off-season. Store employees didn't receive accommodation, so the only way to get food and money was to become a domestic employee.
That was the reason why my response to the interviewer's question was: "I want a cruel employer."
Because I would be forced to work in such a place and stay.
Maid.
I didn't think the result of that choice would have been bad.
First of all, the time I had been given was three years of life, and to extend my life expectancy, I had to find a certain object in the city of Midwinterre.
Since I had no intention of saving to enjoy luxuries, I didn't need money more than enough to live. I had never even 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 in their heart?"
I had no house or money, so instead of answering, I changed my mind and kept my mouth shut.
If I tell her I'm broke, they might make me work even more like a slave.
Let's pretend to be a person full of stories. Maybe I'd get less work out of pity.
Still, that day I ended up taking care of washing the dishes.
The next day.
I cleaned the house like a dog under the maid's direction.
"Miss Daisy has great strength and stamina. Today you're going to clean the dust from the ceiling of the second floor. Did you know? If you don't take care of it for a long time, even the ceiling gets full of dust."
After dinner I closed my eyes for a while, but when I woke up the sun had already risen. Can this be true? This was the first time I experienced 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 more complicated than today, so today we will finish work an hour early. First, let's clean the fireplace in each room."
About three days later, I became quite familiar with the work of a domestic employee.
It was time to investigate the "reason" I came to Midwinterre, so I asked the head cleaner and the market merchants about any information on the item.
But the responses that came were nothing more than obvious.
"Hmm. Are you referring to the legacy left by Dian Cecht before she died? It definitely must exist. Wouldn't it be enshrined in the treasury of some great noble?"
"The legacy of Dian Cecht? Oh, that's right. They say there's something like that hidden in this city, but... isn't it just a rumor? Only children believe it, miss."
"The legacy of Dian Cecht."
Yes, I settled here in Midwinterre in search of "The Eye," one of the five relics left by Dian Cecht.
Dian Cecht was a powerful healer who could resurrect even the dead.
She divided her power into each of her relics and sealed them, and a myth (which was not actually a myth) had been passed down that if one gathered the five relics of her legacy, any incurable disease would be cured.
Of course, it remains to be seen if the treatment will heal a broken soul.
Dian Cecht, along with Mephisto, was called a demigod. It had to be something at least worth hoping for. If only I could find it.
In this way, I had a long and exhausting day looking for Dian Cecht's legacy while continuing to perform all my duties as a domestic employee.
It was midnight of that exhausting day.
The mind, wandering between reality and dreams, suddenly rose sharply.
A person.
Someone had snuck into the bedroom.
The steps, the breaths, the rhythm. It was a great infiltration in many terms. I thought about threatening the other party by attacking him, but I held back.
Highly trained assassins often committed suicide when they felt the crisis of not being able to complete their mission approaching. It was a very bad habit.
Therefore, it would be difficult to identify the intruder unless I look for a loophole.
"Wake up, maid."
Soon, a sharp blade cutting through the cold air touched just below 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 calmly opened my eyes, cold blue eyes were staring at me.
"From today on you are a spy. Monitor the movements of Viscount Weatherwoods and report them periodically."
"Why?"
"Did you not hear me tell you to shut up? This is an order, not a demand. As 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 gave him a blow to the head.
The confused intruder stumbled due to a small movement.
Without missing a beat, I aimed for the intruder's mouth and pulled out the pill with my fingers.
A pill conspicuously placed inside a molar in the back, also known as "Mercy's Bite." It was a suicide pill generally used by the assassination or information guild.
"Why?"
I stuffed a blanket into the mouth of the intruder, who had regained his senses fairly quickly.
I crushed the man against the floor, stripped him of all the tools hidden on his body, and threw them away.
"Why?"
A long needle-shaped blade, a hard dagger, a medicinal powder of unknown utility, a shuriken blade...
And finally, when I threw the emergency "morsel of mercy" hidden in his sleeve, the fighting spirit completely faded from the intruder's eyes.
No path to suicide remained for him.
"Be prepared to answer."
In despair, the intruder, with his eyes closed, nodded his head.
When I took the blanket out of his mouth, he breathed shallowly. He moved his lips in total disbelief.
"You are not an ordinary maid. Who the hell are you?"
"Answer."
"...I only accepted and took over the request that came to 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 at least three maids were threatened in the same way as me.
There was only one goal. To watch Viscount Weatherwood.
"What about the previous maids? Answer."
"I don't know. My role is to swear an oath of obedience to the maid. I am not involved in anything before or after that."
The assassin pointed to a small stud-shaped earring on his right ear.
Upon seeing the spiritual energy flow, this earring seemed to be a magic tool.
It's a magic tool for swearing an oath.
An oath was a promise made with the soul as a guarantee. It was also a taboo magic that was forbidden long ago, because those who broke the rule would die and their souls would be destroyed.
I can't believe you've forced such a terrible oath on ordinary maids, and more than three times too?
It was certainly strange when I thought about it.
Even though I had only worked for a day or two, I knew it was a bit hard working at the Weatherwoods mansion. But it wasn't a terrible enough job that a series of maids would quit or run away one after another.
The owner of the house didn't stick his nose in anywhere, the assigned bedroom was spacious and well-furnished, and the daily work schedule was strictly observed from six in the morning until seven in the evening.
Therefore, it was more likely that the maids had disappeared, not that they had run away. For reasons unrelated to their own choice.
"However, there is no Viscount Weatherwood in this mansion."
It was not difficult for me, who had been on the battlefield for ten years, to detect the presence of other people. Surely Viscount Weatherwood had abandoned this mansion. That too, probably for a long time.
"If you've sent an assassin three times, then the client cannot ignore it."
An ownerless mansion. A client who constantly monitored such a mansion. This mansion was suspicious in many ways.