—Why?
—Do you ask me why now?
After that, she gave a 20-minute speech on why I shouldn't take Jean with me. Jean, one of the empire's most famous knights, had a pale, lifeless face and only blinked while listening. The head maid could be considered the best scolder in Penrotta.
—…Basically, it means that without the workers at the Weatherwoods Mansion, it won't work, right?
—That's the most important thing.
—Don't worry about the workers, head maid. We have brought excellent replacement resources to fill our vacancies.
When I stood up confidently from the garden chair, the head maid, who was watering the flowerbed, looked at me with surprised eyes.
—What do you mean by replacement resources?
Instead of answering, I opened the front door of the mansion. The secret staff I had prepared for this moment, the replacement workers for the Weatherwoods I had prepared.
—Hello, how are you?
Right there stood a bandit maid. The bandit maid. At her surprised expression, the watering can the head maid was holding slipped from her hand and fell weakly. Her expression seemed as if she wondered if this was a dream, but alas, this was reality.
—How is it? How does it feel to meet the perfect maid you longed for so much, the head maid?
—You'll say anything to convince me.
I stood next to the bandit maid, who moved playfully as if he were embarrassed, and clearly presented his… no, his… no, his strengths.
—Those strong muscles. I guarantee they can even pull a cart with their bare hands. And agility. Optimized for peeling potatoes. Third, endurance. She can scrub relentlessly for 30 minutes straight.
—Yes, it's not a big deal.
The head maid couldn't say a word.
—And finally, considering the alarming state of security at Weatherwood Mansion these days, with a maid like this, no one will set foot inside easily. Also…
I picked up the wooden sign I had been working on for an hour and which was firmly fixed to the garden table.
[Beware of the maid]
—I was careful and thorough enough to prepare for any situation! I'll even add one more servant as a bonus. So, they are worth more than the work Jean and I do!
I could definitely trust them to do my part of the work, that was for sure.
"Of course, they are all Rue's workers. What can I do?"
Rue, the patron of these workers, left the house, so the workers were in a difficult situation on the streets. As I planned to personally go to the Northern Continent to bring their owner back, the workers had the duty to help me.
—You can count on me.
—Also, the members of our organization will patrol this area regularly. There's no reason to worry.
And I was a maid who knew the head maid's tastes very well. "The head maid likes slaves." Especially strong ones.
—...Ah. If you put it like that, I can't help but agree.
Look at that. My words were correct, weren't they?
—But! We don't have money for the trip. The funds for the noble council meeting already made a hole in our pocket. You guys figure out the money yourselves. But remember: murder, intimidation and kidnapping are strictly prohibited!
—Uf, how annoying.
—Everyone, dissolve! You, the… the… the temporary maid, please come with me for a moment.
—Hehe, with pleasure.
Okay. We have overcome a major obstacle with this. "Now the only thing missing are the travel funds." Was kidnapping and extortion the only way out? Just when I was about to head to Rue's mansion to look for another servant, someone grabbed my ankle.
—Hey, sword demon.
My younger brother and the one who left a scar on my shoulder. The successor of Berkley-Gratten and a man named Gavroche.
—Devote some time to me.
It was Andert. Andert came to visit. "It actually wasn't a dream." That arrogant voice and that way of speaking belonged to no one less than the spoiled Andert. It was a voice that remained engraved in my bones, one I could never forget. And I felt somewhat nostalgic.
"Seeing you up close, your face is quite different from what I remember."
I felt I could understand why he could live as Gavroche without any problem. The Andert whose appearance I had and the real Andert were barely a bit similar in their facial features. But the eyes that dominated his impression on someone and the atmosphere based on that look were completely different.
"You've become even more arrogant."
This guy, seriously. At the moment I saw my brother clearly for the first time, with a black brimmed hat that looked like an undertaker's, I felt a surge of emotions.
The joy of reunion? No.
—Bastard.
—What…?
I grabbed my brother's neck and let out fourteen years of resentment.
—Because of you, I rolled around like a clam on that desert island… risking my life!
—What are you talking about?
He looked at me with a bewildered expression and nodded with absurdity.
—Ah, can an old sword demon go crazy even without a sword? Interesting. But can you let it go now?
It was then that Andert shook my hand firmly and with a piercing voice. Along with the sound of the low cry of an iron sword, a familiar silver hair blocked my vision. It was Jean, the butler of the Weatherwoods family and my first disciple.
—Mad dog. Why are you here?
Mad dog? Was it Andert's nickname? It was understandable. Andert's expression turned cold, reflecting his aggressively repulsive face and attitude.
—You're a useless stupid woman. What kind of show is this? I've heard you ran away from Berkley-Gratten and became an errand girl. Did you become the Viscount Weatherwoods' maid? I must have missed something, you became a man without me noticing.
—That's none of your business. You really look like a mad dog right now, wrapped in a black cloth from head to toe because of your sun allergies. If you have something to discuss, say it clearly and then leave.
—Aren't you the one who is like a dog? You seem to be very busy protecting your master. Did they hire you as a dog, not as a servant? Eh?
The two seemed quite happy to meet each other, maybe because it had been a while since they met. "Well, if you think about it, these two are like step-siblings." Does that technically make Jean my step-sister? Wow, no. I hated the idea of that.
I left the two brothers enjoying their cheerful conversation and tried to enter the mansion. But then, the postman arrived at Weatherwoods Mansion. A young boy who recognized my face rummaged in his bag and took out a letter.
—Hello, Miss Daisy! A letter has arrived for Viscount Weatherwoods!
—Who is it from?
—Let's see... It's from a certain Mr. Yeager Panula. Please deliver it to Viscount Weatherwoods. Then I'll go.
Panula? Who was that person? "Ah, yes. The son of the newspaper president I met at the noble council meeting." He remembered me and sent me a letter. How considerate! I opened the letter with some expectation and Jean, who had been barking at Andert like a dog barks at a monkey, seemed surprised and turned towards me.
—Senior? If you open Viscount Weatherwoods' letter in such a casual way…
—It's okay.
[To my dear friend, Viscount Weatherwoods. In the scorching heat of full summer, I write you this letter…]
The greetings were too long. Let's move to the main text.
[…Then, this time, I will leave for the Kingdom of Astrosa, one of the nations within the Northern Continental Union. Of course, when I mention the Kingdom of Astrosa, your lovely wife immediately comes to mind! Although it is her hometown, it is a far country, so she probably can only wait for news that reaches her long after the facts. I thought it would be a good opportunity to take your wife to Astrosa for a brief visit. It would be amazing if you could join us, but as head of the family…]
Life was a matter of timing, wasn't it?
—Jean.
—Yes?
—We found it. Our goose that lays the golden eggs.
—Are you talking about the funds?
Yes, this was the precious lifeline that would lead us to Rogue. Behind Jean, the nervous aspiring funeral director, in a hat, looked at us with questioning eyes.
—So when are you going to have time for me? Damn sword demon.
I led my younger brother, who came as a guest, and Jean, who was running an errand, inside Rue's mansion. (I lied to the head maid saying that I would bring not only workers but also various goods).
Jean remembered Yeager, whom she had met at the aristocratic meeting. When I briefly showed her the letter, she understood it was an opportunity we should take advantage of, but she couldn't shake off her doubts.
—But will Mr. Yeager allow us to accompany him?
—Yes. He knows that Viscount Weatherwoods' wife is from the northern continent. You can lie and say you're going on behalf of the Viscountess.
—What I mean is, can we really make decisions like this on our own? We should ask Viscountess Weatherwoods for permission.
…Ah, right. "She doesn't know that I am Viscount Weatherwoods." This was becoming annoying. Jean was a stubborn person, so if I had to convince her of everything one by one, it would be exhausting. Should I pretend she gives me permission? But it's not like I'm going to spend only one or two days with her... What do I have to do?
—…Jean. The oath you made with the sword master, is it an oath that involves revealing the Weatherwoods family secrets? Or does it have any connection to her, however minimal?
Jean, who had been listening in silence, nodded firmly.
—No, absolutely not. I can swear by my soul that the sword master would never force me to make such a despicable oath.
—Really? Then, lend me your attention.
I whispered in a voice small enough for only Jean to hear.
—I am Viscount Weatherwoods.
—What?
—The Viscountess was Rue.
—Yes…?
—That's about it. Since it's a secret, don't tell anyone. If you go around spreading it everywhere, I'll get angry. Remember it.
—Ah… Yes…