Chapter 3
This place looks like a demon might come out of it.
Even the doorbell was broken, so I had to shake the iron gate to call someone.
After rattling it nonstop for about three minutes, someone finally came out from the entrance.
A woman in her mid-to-late thirties, dressed like a servant, stared at my face for a moment before opening the gate.
“Are you Daisy Fager, here to work as a maid? Sorry for the delay. I’m the head maid of the Weatherwoods mansion. Please come inside.”
She was about to lead me to the entrance but suddenly stopped and turned back.
“Where is your luggage?”
I was about to shake my head, but I remembered the interviewer’s advice.
“None.”
She gave me a strange look, then turned around again.
“Normally, maids are not allowed to use the front gate or the main entrance. But in this mansion, you may use them freely.”
We passed through the small garden, dry and ruined as if a war had swept through it.
“The owner of this mansion is Baron Weatherwoods. Just one person. Including you, me, and a cook who will also serve as a gardener arriving in three days, there will be three employees in total. Your duties will be shared appropriately—cleaning, laundry, cooking, errands, gardening. Everything.”
We stepped onto the faded carpet in the main hall and went up to the second floor.
“Your salary will be paid on the first of every month. Work starts at 6 a.m. and ends at 7 p.m.”
We walked down a corridor lined with dust-covered windows and stopped at the last room.
When the head maid opened the door, a wide, empty bedroom greeted us.
“It’s big, isn’t it? You won’t find another place where a maid gets to use a second-floor bedroom instead of an attic, annex, or basement.”
The only reason I knew it was a bedroom was the large, old bed sitting alone against the wall.
A refined but outdated stone heater, a refined but worn desk, a refined but old chair, blackout curtains that looked like they would shed dust like snow if shaken, a refined but rusted metal chest, and a door that seemed to lead to a bathroom.
All in all, it was a properly furnished room.
As she said, it was quite nice for a maid.
“You may move freely anywhere in the mansion. But remember one thing.”
The head maid spoke firmly.
“Do not enter the master’s bedroom. And if anyone asks about the master’s whereabouts, say he is out. No exceptions—not acquaintances, not friends, not distant relatives. The master is very busy and cannot receive visitors. Make sure you remember that.”
Nod.
“Don’t just nod. Answer.”
“Yes.”
I think I was supposed to add something after that. I forgot.
“…Sigh. You… never mind. Then unpack your things. Once you’re done, start work—ah, you said you have no luggage? Then take a 10-minute break and come down to the entrance hall. I heard this is your first time doing this kind of work, so I left some clothes for you there. Let’s get along well from now on.”
She quickly said what she needed to and left.
Now alone, I didn’t feel like reflecting on anything.
I threw myself onto the bed.
“Cough!”
Dust exploded around me, but I didn’t feel like getting up.
How long had it been since I last lay on a bed?
It felt like my body was melting.
After losing consciousness in the final battle against the archmage Mephisto—
When I opened my eyes again, nearly four years had passed.
When I woke up among the ashes, I no longer had my younger brother Andert’s appearance.
The male body maintained by powerful ancient magic had returned to its original female form.
Did I fall into hell after dying?
That thought didn’t last long.
Because I could feel my heart pounding strongly in my chest.
“…I definitely died.”
And yet, I came back to life.
How did that happen?
First, I went down to the island where I had lived.
The village was burned black, nothing but ruins left behind.
Among the debris, I found a piece of clothing that still somewhat held its shape and wore it, then headed to the harbor.
Luckily, there was a military outpost by the coast.
The soldiers who came up from there found me and brought me in.
While investigating my identity, one of them looked at the loose sleeve of the dress I was wearing and asked:
“Berti? Is your name Berti, miss?”
Berti Lushan.
It was a name stitched faintly inside the sleeve—and also the name of someone I knew well.
So this was Berti’s dress.
I traced the name of my long-dead friend with my fingertips.
Berti and her family had died during the war, killed in an air raid by Mephisto.
I still clearly remembered the day I gathered their bodies and buried them myself.
“You look very young. How old are you? Is your name really Berti?”
After a brief hesitation, I nodded.
The rest of the investigation ended quickly.
Berti had been my childhood friend. I knew her home, her family, her entire life better than anyone.
Taking on her identity was easy.
I’m sorry, Berti.
I’ll just borrow it for a while… and return it later.
“Don’t worry, Miss Berti. The world is safe now. The Magic Alliance defeated Mephisto and brought peace! It’s already been four years. The empire is peaceful again!”
From the soldiers, I learned in detail what had happened over the past four years—how the alliance fared and how the empire had changed.
They suggested I go to a refugee shelter in the southern region of the empire, but I refused.
The reason was simple.
I didn’t want my identity exposed and to get entangled with my former comrades, including Raphael.
Around that time, I had already realized something was terribly wrong with my body.
When my soul collided with Mephisto’s during the final battle, my lifespan had been reduced to three years.
I had no desire to reunite with Raphael in this state.
I was no longer Andert.
And I had no reason to live as Andert anymore.
All my connections—Raphael and the others—belonged to Andert.
If I returned like this, I’d only invite pity and sympathy.
I didn’t want to burden them with guilt.
Considering everything, the best choice was to live as “myself,” not Andert.
I’ll live as myself and try to fix this broken body.
Even if it’s impossible, I’ll at least try.
That’s why, out of all the empire’s cities, I chose Midwintry.
If I could find that item hidden somewhere in this city…
Maybe my three-year lifespan could be extended.
I started recalling the month it took me to get here, but since every single moment had been miserable, I gave up thinking about it.
After changing into my maid uniform, I went down to the entrance hall, where the head maid was waiting.
“We spent a considerable amount of money to bring you here. I’d like you to last at least a week. That way, you’ll be paid for your work.”
So that’s why the interviewer looked at me like a golden pig.
“Shall we begin? There’s a lot of work piled up. It’ll be tough.”
From that moment on, the head maid worked me like a slave.
And I worked like one.
Taking down the chandelier in the main hall—which was a miracle it hadn’t been sold yet—dusting it, wiping it, reinstalling it. Cleaning the stair railings. Scrubbing the steps. Beating the large carpet. Beating it endlessly. Cleaning window frames. Washing windows. Dusting floors. Scrubbing floors. Oiling them…
“…This is insane.”
Is this really a house?
Am I a maid or a slave?
Am I a slave maid?
“Working with two people really speeds things up. You’ve got great stamina and quick thinking.”
It sounded like genuine praise, but I couldn’t even smile.
The head maid was the person who would feed me, house me, and pay me for the next three years.
I must not hit her.
“It’s already getting cloudy. We should get ingredients before sunset. I’ll finish up here, so go run an errand.”
She was also the person who would feed me, house me, and pay me.
I must not talk back.
“Here’s the list of ingredients and the money. Don’t even think about skimming any. I know the market prices very well. It won’t do you any good to get on bad terms with the merchants, so be polite. Especially your way of speaking.”
If you’re that worried, you should go yourself.
I guess protecting the mansion was part of her duty.
With the small amount of money in hand, I stepped out of the mansion.
“Whoa! Watch your head! It’d be terrible if that pretty face of yours got scratched, miss.”
A large table rushed past right next to my face.
When I looked, I saw several men carrying furniture out of the house across from the Weatherwoods mansion.
They’re moving out.
Maybe the owner changed.
If it were me, I wouldn’t want a gloomy neighbor like this mansion right across the street either.
