Episode 2. Temporary Aide
Ella carefully opened the door and set the bowl of clam stew on the table beside the armchair where the Duke was sitting.
“It’s different from usual.”
The Duke spoke as he looked at the simple bowl of clam stew instead of the overly rich and greasy main dishes he was normally served. Having spent ten years on the battlefield, he much preferred such simple meals over the burdensome foods that were usually brought out.
Ella hesitated, wondering if she should explain the dish or if he was merely talking to himself, then gave a short answer.
“It’s clam stew, good for relieving a hangover.”
Only then did the Duke look up at the maid who had brought the meal, sensing something unfamiliar. Unlike the other servants, she wasn’t trembling, nor was she sweating nervously with a fearful expression.
She simply placed the meal down calmly and stood by his side, ready to serve him. Seeing a maid who wasn’t afraid of him for the first time in a while, the Duke turned his gaze back to the stew.
The clean scent of clams brushed his nose, and he felt his appetite return for the first time in a long time. Without a word, he lifted the spoon and took a bite.
Ella quietly observed the Duke as he ate. Just as the chef had said, the Duke did not eat well, so his body was on the lean side, not bulky like a typical knight’s. Yet whenever he moved, glimpses of firm, well‑formed muscles could be seen beneath the shirt that he never bothered to button all the way.
As she watched the Duke eat his stew with elegant motions, the sound of the spoon being set down snapped her back to her senses, and she quickly poured him a glass of cool water.
When the Duke finished drinking and set the glass down, Ella neatly cleared the dishes and left the bedroom. Only after completing her final duty did she realize how tense she had been—the fatigue washed over her all at once.
Returning to her room, Ella was finally able to lie down on her old, creaking bed late at night. The squeaking noise bothered her ears, but exhaustion soon pulled her into sleep.
—
Ella becoming the Duke’s assigned maid led everyone to assume she would last no more than a week before being thrown out like the others. But, to everyone’s surprise, she had served him for a full week without a single incident.
As usual, Ella carried a tray with tomato stew—good for hangovers—and freshly baked warm butter rolls to the Duke of Glois’s bedroom in the morning. There, she found the butler anxiously biting his nails.
“Butler, good morning. Is something wrong?”
“Ah, Ella… The aide just went in. He had something to report to the Duke.”
Before the butler even finished speaking, the Duke’s thunderous roar erupted from inside the room.
“If this were the battlefield, you’d be executed on the spot! You dare let the poor relief grain get stolen?!”
The butler clutched his chest in fright, breathing heavily. His face grew paler as he trembled, so Ella quickly set the tray down and patted his back.
“Butler, breathe—slowly, in… out… in… out…”
“In… out… in… out…”
With Ella’s help, his tense breaths slowly eased, and some color returned to his face.
“Th‑thank you, Ella… I’m getting old. Whenever the Duke gets angry, my heart races so much I can barely breathe… I must be nearing my time…”
The butler gazed wistfully out the window, but the growing commotion inside the room snapped him back immediately.
*Bang!*
Something crashed inside, and the Duke called for him.
“Butler!”
Ella and the butler hurried in together.
The aide who had been reporting the theft of the relief grain was now collapsed on the floor, foaming at the mouth from the Duke’s fury.
“Remove him.”
The Duke lit his pipe and sat back down in the armchair as if nothing had happened.
The butler, horrified, rushed out to summon other servants. Ella loosened the aide’s cravat and belt, which were tightly strangling his plump neck and protruding belly, and checked whether he was still breathing.
Fortunately, he was.
Once the butler and servants carried the unconscious aide out on a stretcher, Ella placed the tomato stew and butter rolls on the table.
“My lord, your breakfast.”
The Duke began eating quietly, as if the earlier uproar had never occurred.
While he ate, Ella straightened the bedding, cleared away the whiskey bottles and glasses lying around, and naturally returned to attend his meal.
Her movements were smooth and efficient—almost like those of a well‑trained knight.
When she poured cool water into the Duke’s glass, she realized he was staring at her.
His cold yet languid gaze made a chill run down her spine.
“Do you… have something for me to do?” she asked.
The Duke gave no answer, simply let his eyes travel over her slowly. Her deep green eyes met his without fear, her neatly pinned hair and pale, composed features giving her an elegant air unusual for a maid.
Most maids assigned to him trembled from the rumors surrounding him and made mistake after mistake, or angered him by being overly tense. But this one… was different.
“Your name.”
Normally he didn’t bother learning the names of maids who were bound to be dismissed soon. But for some reason, he felt he would be seeing this one for a while.
“Ella,” she replied after a brief, startled pause.
“Ella… The head maid finally sent me someone decent.”
Hearing him speak her name in that low, rough voice made Ella avert her gaze, overwhelmed by a sense of tension she couldn’t quite explain.
When the Duke finished his meal, Ella quickly gathered the dishes and left the room.
*That look… It was scary, somehow.*
Lost in thought about the Duke’s piercing gaze, she headed toward the kitchen with the dishes when someone called her urgently.
“Ella! Wait!”
The butler came hurrying toward her, out of breath.
“Yes, butler?”
“S‑so… How is your work? Are you managing?”
“Yes.”
“No difficulties? Like… the Duke shouting at you, or swinging his sword and telling you to get out before he cuts you down, or asking if you want to die—things like that.”
“No. Nothing like that.”
Ella thought back carefully. The Duke had not done anything like the butler described. The only unsettling thing had been the way he stared at her earlier, but he hadn’t behaved violently at all.
Besides, she planned to leave the mansion once her contract ended, so even if he did yell, she could endure it—she wouldn’t have to see him afterward.
After gauging her reaction, the butler finally revealed his true intentions.
“Then… could you possibly serve as temporary aide?”
“That isn’t my job.”
What noble household would ask a maid to take on the duties of an aide—a noble’s close assistant? Ella shook her head firmly.
“Yes, yes, normally aides are junior nobles who pass examinations… But Ella… th‑the aide ran away!”
The butler buried his wrinkled face in his hands, on the verge of tears.
The aide, delivered to the physician, had left a note saying he was quitting because he feared the Duke, and vanished. The butler had never expected such a thing.
With aides having quit repeatedly, there were no applicants left. Desperate, he pleaded with the only person who stayed near the Duke—Ella.
“It’s only temporary. Really! And not official duties. Just simple tasks—delivering reports or letters, passing along the Duke’s messages to me or the secretary. I’ll give you extra pay!”
Ella began to refuse, but the mention of *extra pay* made her pause.
“How much extra?”
“Twenty silver a month.”
Ella had already taken an advance of five years’ wages. This additional pay—more than half her usual monthly salary—made her smile with satisfaction. She accepted the offer.
—
Ever since the Duke returned to the estate, the butler’s face had withered like a dried tree—but lately, color had returned to his cheeks. The head maid, curious, asked him:
“What’s making you so happy these days?”
The butler, humming while sipping tea in the dining hall, cleared his throat and replied:
“Well, thanks to Ella, I can breathe again. Just thinking of it makes me smile.”
The head maid blinked in confusion, and the butler offered her a cup of tea as he continued:
“You know the aide ran away after leaving just a note, right?”
“Oh, of course! I heard he fainted foaming at the mouth in front of the Duke?”
She sipped the tea and thought about the long line of aides who had passed through the mansion. Usually they lasted a week; the shortest had been dismissed the same morning they greeted the Duke.
“I asked Ella to fill in for now, since there was no replacement. And surprisingly, the Duke hasn’t complained. Ella is doing such a wonderful job… Have you noticed the Duke hasn’t gotten angry lately?”
The head maid’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh my! Now that you mention it—he really hasn’t! But… a maid can’t be aide forever. Shouldn’t you post a hiring notice?”
Hearing this, the butler’s hands trembled violently, and he shook his head with all his might.
“N‑no! Absolutely not! I’m going to keep things exactly as they are for as long as possible! If I have to see the Duke angry again, I swear I’ll die of a heart attack! Hngh—”
The head maid gently patted his shoulder as he trembled like a shaken leaf and even began to tear up.
“There, there, butler. Please calm down. Don’t cry.”
