Chapter 4
“How do you do your job well?”
Before entering the mansion, Claire had once asked Angela for advice about working life.
“It’s not difficult.”
Angela had confidently laid out three rules:
First, always honor your contract. Trust is everything.
Second, prioritize your employer’s safety above all else.
Third, don’t just see the trees—see the forest. An enemy can exist anywhere.
Claire had listened intently, nodding with an impressed expression.
‘Alright. I’ve memorized it all.’
But what Claire had overlooked was that Angela had spent her entire life as a mercenary specializing in protection—an occupation far removed from any ordinary workplace.
Get out. Leave. Disappear.
Those were the words Claire heard most often—and ignored most often—while attending to Theodore.
“Excuse me.”
As Theodore lunged at her with a beast-like roar, Claire swiftly wrapped him up tightly in a blanket and remained by his side until he calmed down.
Once restrained, his bloodshot eyes glared at her with murderous intent. Yet instead of fear, Claire felt a pang of pity.
‘Just looking at his eyes makes mine hurt.’
It would be more comfortable if he blinked a little.
After a moment of thought, Claire gently closed his eyes with her hand. Theodore’s roar only grew louder.
‘Hmm.’
Claire began opening and closing his eyelids in a steady rhythm.
‘He’s so frail he can’t even ignore something this minor.’
For a brief moment, Claire was reminded of a raccoon suffering from an eye infection. Deciding it was worth the extra effort, she resolved to take care of the “raccoon’s” eye health.
About ten minutes passed like that.
At last, Theodore’s body seemed to relax, as if the episode had subsided.
“…That’s enough. Take your hand off.”
His hoarse voice, tinged with resignation, echoed through the room. Claire shrugged lightly and withdrew her hand.
“Yes.”
She rolled him over and unwrapped the blanket binding him.
He looked at her as if he had much to say, brows furrowed, but in the end, he only let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face.
“Do you have a headache?”
“Drop it.”
Claire poured a glass of water and handed it to him. Perhaps from being confined in the blanket, his hair was damp with sweat.
After draining the glass in one gulp, Theodore returned the cup and stared at her.
It had been a month and a half since Claire began attending to him.
The longest record among all his personal attendants.
“Would you like another glass?”
Theodore shook his head and lay back down.
‘It’d be better if he got up and exercised or something.’
Claire clicked her tongue inwardly as she looked at his gaunt neckline. Having grown accustomed to caring for him, she had come to understand the pattern of his madness.
‘When the episodes don’t come, he’s just lethargic—but otherwise normal.’
Theodore suffered about three episodes a day. Though called seizures, what Claire witnessed was closer to an uncontrollable eruption of emotions.
Like a massive dam filling to its limit, then collapsing and sweeping everything away—a thoroughly destructive symptom.
‘It’s like he becomes a completely different person.’
The Theodore she observed, outside of those episodes, seemed exhausted and irritable, but not someone who wished to harm others.
Yet when consumed by madness, he became like a beast overtaken by another personality, filled with naked killing intent.
‘At least he comes back quickly once restrained.’
After subduing him and waiting a short while, the dull blue light would return to Theodore’s eyes, and he would become compliant again.
Just like now.
“Shall I wipe off your sweat with a damp cloth?”
“I said it’s fine.”
His voice was rough from all the shouting. Turning his back to Claire, who sat beside the bed, Theodore remained silent for a moment before speaking.
“It’s been a month and a half since you came.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Claire quietly watched his back. His breathing, once ragged from the episode, was gradually easing.
“You’ve seen this state of mine for over a month and still haven’t left. You must be that desperate for money.”
Claire’s eyes flickered in surprise.
‘I’ve only received my first month’s pay so far.’
She had planned to work at least six months. A warning signal blared in her mind.
“It isn’t that difficult. I can continue working from here on.”
At her words, a faint tension entered Theodore’s shoulders.
Clutching the blanket and curling up, he closed his eyes.
“Leave before you get hurt.”
No.
So it’s come to this. Claire bit down hard on her cheek in despair.
‘Am I being dismissed…?’
Though her face remained expressionless, her eyes trembled.
‘Am I not doing a good job?’
Suppressing her agitation, she spoke carefully.
“If there’s anything I lack, I’ll correct it.”
“Hah. You really don’t get it.”
Theodore sat up irritably. His bloodshot eyes turned toward her.
“I’m telling you to leave before there’s bloodshed. I don’t want to deal with a corpse.”
“…What?”
Claire was genuinely taken aback. Her usually calm expression broke as her lips parted slightly.
It wasn’t his fierce demeanor that bothered her. There was something deeply off about what he had just said.
Unable to suppress her confusion, she finally voiced it.
“How would you even manage to hurt me, Young Master…?”
Does this raccoon seriously think he can harm me?
Thinking this, Claire examined the frail “raccoon” before her. He didn’t seem feverish, yet his words were oddly cute.
‘In this condition, I could handle ten of him without trouble.’
Only then did Theodore notice the pity in her gaze, and his face flushed red.
“Y-You…”
He frowned deeply, trying to say something, but soon seemed at a loss for words. He smacked his forehead and collapsed back onto the bed.
“Get out! I’m going to sleep!”
‘Then I suppose the dismissal is off the table?’
Before he could add anything more, Claire quickly rose from her seat. Just before leaving, she glanced back at the bed.
Buried in the blankets, the drooping raccoon somehow looked…defeated.
‘I let my guard down. I thought we’d gotten a bit closer.’
Her employer was a small, frail, and sensitive raccoon.
Resolving not to let her guard down again, Claire vowed to become an even more meticulous maid and quietly closed the door behind her.
“You.”
“Good evening, Lady Isabella.”
While transporting Theodore’s dinner, Claire encountered Isabella in the corridor. Since their first meeting, Isabella had occasionally sought her out—usually without any particular reason.
“You’re going to see my brother again in that shabby apron? What if you spread some disease?”
“I wash it thoroughly every night. I also have a spare, so there’s no need to worry.”
She used to have two spares, but one had been ruined when she tore it to wrap Isabella’s injured foot.
Remembering that day, Claire glanced briefly at Isabella’s feet. Fortunately, her shoes seemed to fit properly today.
“And—and!”
Grabbing at her skirt as if searching for something to criticize, Isabella darted her eyes around.
‘But there’s nothing to criticize. I’m an excellent maid.’
Claire looked down at the small, bristling red raccoon with a gentle gaze. The siblings in this household were both sharp-tempered yet harmless—remarkably alike.
‘How did such a family end up as a marquis house on the frontier?’
Is the Empire’s border even properly defended?
Lost in such impolite thoughts, Claire stood absentmindedly.
Frustrated, Isabella suddenly lashed out and kicked toward the trolley.
“Oh my.”
Snapping back to her senses, Claire swiftly pulled the trolley away. At the same time, she caught Isabella’s arm as the girl stumbled from missing her target and steadied her.
“Lady Isabella, this is the Young Master’s meal.”
“So what!”
Isabella dug her nails into Claire’s wrist, which held her arm.
Though the small hand trembled with effort, Claire’s face remained utterly calm.
‘I can’t even feel it. Truly the grip strength of a baby raccoon.’
“It’s almost time for the Young Master’s dinner. Would you help me ensure it reaches him safely?”
With ease, Claire removed Isabella’s hand using a single finger and rummaged through her pocket.
Tap.
She placed a piece of candy into the girl’s palm.
‘A bribe.’
Though modest, the bribe was effective. Isabella stared at the candy, then at Claire, before clutching it tightly and stepping back.
“I-I’ll let it slide this time!”
Snorting, Isabella turned and hurried down the corridor.
Watching her retreating figure with a faint smile, Claire pushed the trolley forward again.
‘Good thing I saved the candy Angela gave me. Still…’
Keeping her face forward, Claire shifted only her gaze to the side.
Another passage connected to the corridor where she had met Isabella.
A presence concealed there.
‘Why am I being watched?’
