Episode 9
“Come here. I’ll put some medicine on it.”
“N-no, I’ll do it myself!”
“I know because I’ve had a similar wound. It’s more bearable when someone else applies it. So come here. Quickly.”
Come to think of it, the lady of the house didn’t raise her hand only against the servants. Lily recalled how Charlotte had once applied medicine to her back before.
By nature, people are able to empathize more deeply when they feel a sense of similarity. And the wider the range of empathy, the stronger the sense of belonging becomes.
The fact that Charlotte had suffered the same pain softened Lily’s heart somewhat.
At the same time, she began to believe they stood on the same line—pitiful women who could do nothing but be beaten by the Duchess.
As her thoughts flowed that way, Lily finally stopped misdirecting her anger and let her emotions point in the proper direction.
Toward the Duchess who had struck her.
‘What a terrible person….’
Sniffling, Lily watched Charlotte’s hands carefully applying the ointment.
“It’s already been nearly ten years since you entered the ducal house.”
“Ah, you knew?”
“Of course. I remember everyone.”
Charlotte lowered her eyes slightly with a faint smile. It was time to say what she had prepared.
“Isn’t it strange? There’s no one in this estate as diligent and attentive as you, yet Mother refuses to acknowledge you. I recommended you for the head maid position several times… but you know. My words carry no weight.”
No sooner had Charlotte finished speaking than Lily’s eyes shot up.
“You recommended me?”
“Yes. I recommended you last summer as well. But… I’m sorry. It feels like because of me, you haven’t been able to shine.”
Lily’s eyes widened.
Truthfully, she had thought the same as Charlotte before. No—if she were honest, she resented Charlotte every single day.
If I hadn’t been your personal maid, I would’ve risen higher by now, she would think.
But with just one sentence—Charlotte had recommended her and acknowledged her—every ounce of resentment melted away.
And then she began to think differently. The reason she hadn’t advanced wasn’t because she was Charlotte’s personal maid—it was because of those spiteful superiors who failed to recognize her worth!
“It’s because of the head maid. She doesn’t like me. Says I talk too much or whatever.”
“Oh my? Is that so?”
“Talking too much may be my flaw, but I think flaws aren’t absolute—they’re subjective and can be perceived differently by each person. Daisy said I’m fun because I talk a lot!”
“Andrea does tend to be rather blunt.”
To grow closer to someone—even if not close enough to truly open one’s heart—the most effective way to make the other person feel familiarity is to create a common enemy. In Lily’s case, that enemy was the head maid.
At Charlotte’s brief remark, Lily concluded that Charlotte also disliked the head maid, Andrea, and seized the opportunity to speak.
“Blunt? That’s an understatement! There’s no one more boring in the world! She can’t take a single joke, can’t even join a conversation! No wit, no sociability! That’s why no man likes her either!”
“Is that so? I didn’t know.”
“A head maid should care for everyone, but she doesn’t! She only dotes on those sly little foxes who flatter her! I don’t understand why the Duchess favors someone like that!”
With just a small nudge, the dam burst. Words poured out endlessly.
Charlotte struggled to suppress the smile threatening to spread across her lips.
The head maid, Andrea, was one of the Duchess’s closest attendants. She managed both the annex where Charlotte stayed and the west wing of the main residence, reporting Charlotte’s every move to the Duchess.
Making Richard wait. Changing her dress. All of it had reached the Duchess through Andrea.
Because of that, Charlotte had been confined to the annex, constantly walking on eggshells. Even if she dropped a single teacup, the Duchess’s scolding would follow.
But if she thought about it the other way around, it was good for her.
If Andrea disappeared, Charlotte would no longer need to live so cautiously within the annex.
There would surely still be a maid reporting to the Duchess—but she could simply make that maid her ally.
Just like Lily now.
“Are there many who dislike the head maid?”
“Of course! Everyone except the girls she pampers hates her! I swear it on my name!”
Though Lily’s name carried little weight, Charlotte pretended to be startled and pressed a hand to her chest.
“Even yesterday, Daisy was scolded harshly by the head maid over something trivial, and then—”
Charlotte listened to Lily’s chattering with half an ear, drawing her knees close and resting her chin atop them.
And she remembered—how Lily had been before Charlotte’s death.
“Miss! How could you stain the sheets like this? Bloodstains are so hard to get out—what are you going to do?”
Was coughing up blood something that could simply be suppressed?
Unable to hold it in, Charlotte had vomited dark red blood. But instead of worrying, Lily had scolded her.
“Honestly, I don’t believe you were poisoned. Who in the ducal estate would dare harm you?”
“This is all because you don’t move properly or eat on time. If you just did as I say, you’d recover quickly!”
Then she had forced Charlotte outside into the biting wind.
Charlotte was certain Lily was simply tired of tending to her every hour and wanted a few hours of freedom.
As a result, Charlotte caught a severe cold that day and suffered from high fever for months.
Even then, Lily had shown not a trace of guilt and said:
“They say commoners are physically weaker by nature. I suppose you can’t escape what you’re born with, right?”
Back then, Charlotte had been too weak even to move a finger. What she felt wasn’t anger—but misery.
And helplessness.
There is nothing I can do. So many people wish for my death.
But the Charlotte of now was different.
She was still miserable—but no longer helpless. Still sorrowful—but no longer without anger.
“…And do you know what that squire said? ‘Excuse me, Head Maid. May I ask if you have a child? If so, could you tell me what a three-year-old likes?’ And the head maid is unmarried and has no children!”
“That knight was tactless.”
“Not tactless—he just said what he saw! You should’ve seen her face!”
As Lily burst into laughter and fell back clutching her stomach, Charlotte felt nausea rise within her.
But this Charlotte could hide her simmering rage beneath a carefully drawn smile.
She continued to respond to Lily appropriately, encouraging her just enough.
“If the head maid were to leave, many would rejoice.”
“Rejoice? They’d hold a festival! Just imagining that witch disappearing makes me happy!”
Lily clasped her hands as if in prayer, eyes shining—then soon her shoulders drooped.
“But it won’t happen. You know how much the Duchess favors her.”
“Isn’t that because she served Mother even before she came to the ducal estate? As for her character or competence, I believe Mother said she doesn’t truly know.”
“What? Really?”
Of course, it was a lie. But Lily had no way to confirm it with the Duchess, so she naturally believed Charlotte.
“Yes. I heard it not long ago. But Mother is soft-hearted. She said she keeps her by her side out of sentiment.”
“Oh…”
Lily’s brown eyes darted rapidly.
Left, then right—rolling with a wicked hope that perhaps, just perhaps, the head maid could be driven out.
