Chapter 12
Anne casually thought about her next job while recalling the fortress city in the west. That’s when a low, secretive voice came from behind her.
“You know there’s a famous secret over there, right?”
It was Marie, the kitchen assistant who had worked as a maid in the west.
Though she was older, Marie was sociable and had come to the duke’s estate through her connections. She quickly became friendly with the other maids, including Anne.
“What is it?”
When Cassie and Anne’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, Marie leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.
“Every year, they offer people to the witch.”
“You’re kidding.”
Cassie looked skeptical, but Marie pressed on, emboldened.
“It’s true. Twelve people disappear every year.”
“Who’d believe that? Even if the emperor tried something like human sacrifice, he’d be condemned.”
“Hmph. Do you really think the witch created a forest and oasis for the Clayde territory for free?”
The legend that a witch had struck a long-standing bargain with the Clayde ancestors, bringing life to the desert and drawing water from it, was widely known—even in the capital.
The northern forest, rumored to be where the witch lived, was thick with trees, and the western capital, Teganess, had the oasis known as the symbol of the pact.
“That’s why the people of Clayde treat the witch and magic as sacred. They follow it more devoutly than the state religion.”
As Marie kept talking, other maids who had been pretending not to listen started to join in on Anne and Cassie’s conversation.
“They say the emperor once launched a crusade against Teganess over religious conflict, but the witch used magic beasts and immobilized the army.”
“Even though Clayde’s land is barren, they’re actually quite prosperous thanks to the oasis trade route and the money from subjugating magic beasts. That’s why so many nobles tried to drive them out—but they all ended up ruined.”
“Was it the witch’s curse?”
“Exactly. The witch only allowed the Clayde family to rule that land.”
“Honestly, you could say the Clayde frontier isn’t imperial land—it’s the witch’s.”
“They say not even the army can touch her. Even the beasts don’t dare go near the forest.”
“Thanks to that, the Clayde family survives.”
“Who would want to live in the west? The moment you step out of Teganess Castle, you’re as good as dead—what with the beasts and the witch.”
“Ugh, it’s way safer here. I feel bad for the maids living there. Can they even go out freely?”
Despite their complaints, the maids kept polishing dishes and carrying trays of food.
Anne hoisted a large meat platter onto her shoulder and stepped out into the hallway.
“But if it’s that dangerous, wouldn’t the pay be better?”
“Anne—don’t tell me you’re interested?”
Cassie gave her a playful glare and made a swatting motion at her arm. They were too far apart for it to land, but Anne chuckled.
“I just want to earn more.”
“How much more could you even make? If you think about the pay and treatment, this place is the best. Anne, everyone’s dying to get a spot here!”
That was true.
The duke’s family had a reputation for treating their staff generously. They provided spacious accommodations and a separate servant hall.
The wages were more than fair, and those who worked long enough and retired often received a hefty severance and even a small house.
Because the work environment wasn’t toxic, there was little conflict or excessive competition among staff. Most who joined—especially those who had worked elsewhere—never wanted to leave.
Cassie, who had thought Anne naïvely lucky for starting her maid career here, raised her eyebrows and grinned.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going west because you’re curious about the young Lord Clayde?”
In a residence full of women, where workplace relationships were forbidden, the maids often gossiped about men when gathered.
And when the topic of the elusive young Lord Clayde came up, it was only natural that ears would perk up.
“Would that be so wrong?”
“Oh my—Anne, what’s gotten into you?”
Cassie looked genuinely shocked. Anne had always had a quiet, diligent image.
But then she smiled, as if it all made sense.
“So that’s why you’ve been studying so hard—ulterior motives, huh?”
“It’s not desire—it’s ambition. I plan to dream big.”
A dream not to ruin this life. A wish to live realistically, without false hopes.
To live for herself, not others—something that didn’t align with the life of a maid who served and supported others her whole life.
Anne quickened her steps toward the back door of the banquet hall.
The chatter stopped. She moved quickly to ensure the empty spots at the table were filled without pause.
Since it was the duke’s birthday, the party was lavish and extravagant, lasting far longer than usual.
It had started at dinner time, and even after five hours, the guests hadn’t thinned out.
Half a year’s worth of wine was running out in just one night.
Still, the Duke and Duchess spared no effort, entertaining their guests wholeheartedly and lavishly.
“Ay~ don’t be like that~”
With all the alcohol flowing, it wasn’t unusual for drunk men and women to lock eyes and sneak off into one of the manor’s empty rooms.
And if a maid ended up with a jewel brooch in her hand, it didn’t really matter that the man had just been the subject of their gossip—a wrinkled old baron, for instance.
“There’s no woman in Teganess like you. Marry me~”
So spoke Earl Arthur Clayde, who was already over seventy.
After barely having a son at fifty, he’d retired from duties and come to the capital to enjoy his twilight years.
While the aging frontier lord drowned in wine and parties, the social world buzzed with scandalous rumors about him.
“Really?”
Matilda, who had just turned twenty, gazed at the earl with sparkling eyes. She was a maid who never quite fit in, even in the generally friendly duke’s household.
There were shady rumors about how she had bribed a broker or even sold her body to get hired. Her image had always been bad.
Vain and slow at her job, most maids avoided working with her.
As soon as she saw the glittering jewel in her hand, Matilda was entranced. Of course, every maid dreamed of catching a nobleman and changing her fate.
But Matilda was especially blatant about it—her materialism obvious.
Even a wrinkled old man was still an earl. A few years of patience would come with wealth and status.
In the gaze filled with hope, fantasy, desire, and greed, the old man no longer looked like a mere object of scandal.
Nobles nearby clicked their tongues. Attendants gave Matilda warning glances, but she accepted the sapphire brooch and took the old man’s hand.
The earl staggered to his feet, the chair wobbling under him. He looked like he might collapse at any moment.
“Careful.”
Matilda didn’t hesitate to press close and support him.
Anne, watching from afar, turned her head away in disgust at the Earl’s wrinkled, leering smile.
It pained her to see Matilda’s forced smile and furrowed brow.
“Is she insane?”
“She really thinks one night with an old man will make her a countess?”
“Earl Clayde proposes to women like it’s nothing. That’s just his drunken habit.”
Even while busy cleaning after the party, the maids couldn’t stop gossiping about Matilda.
“It’s not like you’d meet any men here anyway.”
“Still, having your first time with an old man? Ew.”
“How do you know it’s her first?”
“She said she hadn’t been with anyone before.”
“And you believed her?”
Amid the giggling, concern mingled with the gossip.
“What if the earl doesn’t take her with him?”
The real problem was that Earl Clayde had publicly taken Matilda from the party.
Matilda had slept with the earl.
To him, it was just one night with a maid. But from the Duchess’s perspective, there was no way she’d tolerate such a promiscuous maid in her house.
“She’ll be fired.”
A heavy sigh passed through the maids.
It would’ve been better if she had succeeded—if everyone envied her as she left to become a countess or at least a mistress.
Otherwise, the usual fate awaited: clinging to the Duchess’s dress hem, begging as she was dragged out by attendants.
Anne knew Matilda would leave the manor with Earl Clayde.
And that within a year, she’d be killed by a magic beast while trying to escape from his estate.
She died near the border, prompting Earl Clayde’s soldiers to cross into enemy territory—sparking a war.
Matilda’s death was just a trigger.
But what if Anne could prevent that—stop the war from ever happening? Keep the Duke and his heir from joining the conflict?
Then no one would die.
What would become of Grey?
