Chapter 20: How a Mercenary Acts Like a Duchess (3)
It was early morning, the castle quiet and dark. Regina noticed the weary hands of the young maids, stained red from pumping water all morning.
These girls aren’t just weak rats—they’ve worked too hard, she thought. Her heart ached at their fatigue.
She moved toward them.
“Eek! Mi‑lady…?”
The girls turned white when Regina, dressed simply in pants and a shirt, appeared at the pump.
Everyone knew they disliked her. They didn’t want her seen kindness from.
“I need to wash my face,” Regina said calmly.
“We’ll fetch water for you…” one maid offered.
“At this hour? No need.” Regina grabbed the pump and began working it herself. Strong and steady, she pressed—and water poured like a waterfall.
“Would you like some?” she offered after filling the buckets.
The girls were stunned, “Ye—yes!”
Minutes later, the buckets were full. Regina rinsed off, then turned to the children.
“Thank you,” one maid said, her palm red and sore.
“I’ve built calluses from holding a sword,” Regina replied, and the girls noticed the sword at her waist.
“How much work you must have,” said a maid, trembling.
Regina thought of Roja—especially Jane, with the same tender eyes. She shook back her damp bangs and spoke gently:
“If your wrists hurt, see Nurse Roten. I’ll speak to her too.”
The girls nodded.
She handed Jane a damp cloth from the pump and wrapped it gently around her wrist. Jane blushed.
“Keep it,” Regina told her and left. The maids watched her go, startled.
“I thought she was cruel—rumours and all.”
“She’s nothing like Finette!”
“Jane’s face is so red!”
“Where is she going?”
If Shanora or Gail had seen this, they’d chide me, Regina thought. She always softened at the call of compassion.
Then she heard Jane’s voice behind her:
“Mi‑lady!”
Regina turned, still unused to the title. Jane stood, breathless:
“Lady Finette might trash your room—flooding it to wash linens. It seems like she enjoys making you suffer.”
Jane, voice shaking, tried to explain more but trailed off. Regina gently placed a hand on her head.
“She’s lost her mind! I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Regina nodded. “I understand.”
Jane hesitated: “Please don’t say I told you.”
Regina shrugged. “It’s okay. I plan to let it pass—but thank you for telling me.”
So I’ll need a reason to defend myself if Finette oversteps, Regina decided.
She walked on, letting Jane’s warning linger.
Later, Regina entered Finette’s room—only to find her clothes strewn across the floor. Finette stood there in Regina’s green dress, hair braided, with a smug expression.
“Cleaning?” Regina asked calmly. She began folding her clothes onto the sofa, the hem of her new dress swaying.
“Of course—it’s just how noble ladies keep things tidy!” Finette lied.
Regina laughed softly. “Let me ask—are you eating enough? Being paid fairly?”
Finette bristled, but Regina continued, “What about the other maids? Are they okay?”
The maids in the room shifted uncomfortably. Regina’s poised questions made the tension sharp.
Finally, Finette snapped, “Everyone out!”
The maids lingered, torn between loyalty and fear. Regina gave them a warm smile:
“It’s okay—go.”
…
It was usually considered proper for even the head maid to ask permission before thoroughly cleaning a noblewoman’s room. But Finette didn’t see Regina as her lady—she saw her as beneath her.
At last, the messenger’s news arrived. Once Count Schubel arrives, that mercenary woman’s done for, Finette thought. She would personally help Schubel drive Regina out. He would learn that this “fortune” wasn’t just luck—it carried consequences.
“Ugh… how can these fine wardrobes hold such ragged clothes?”
Inside the duchess’s large wardrobe was just one green dress from Joy and Regina’s mercenary outfit. Finette tapped the dusty leather armour, then noticed it pressed against both green and brown dresses. She also spotted the leather boots tucked in the corner—clean and well cared for.
“Oh my! These boots with these rags?!” she shouted, yanking the mercenary clothes and tossing them on the floor.
“You’ve never had fine clothes—you wouldn’t know how to treat them gently. Or maybe your pretty face took up all your brains,” she sneered.
The younger maids paused mid-chores. The tossed clothes clearly showed a disparity: Regina’s possessions were treated worse than the dress brought by the duke’s wife.
“Is this alright? Her Highness’s things thrown like that…” one maid whispered.
“I don’t know.” Jane looked away. Finette, with smug satisfaction, revelled in her display. No one could stop her in the duchess’s room.
What will our lady do? The maids wondered, uneasy.
But Jane, remembering Regina’s kindness, had mixed feelings.
Regina returned from meeting Joy and froze when she saw the mess. Clothes strewn everywhere. Finette, dressed in Regina’s green gown with her hair braided, smirked as if expecting this.
Regina focused on the maid responsible. Finette flinched under the gaze but quickly regained composure.
Even if I’m mad, what can she do? I could tell the duke—but I speak better than she does.
She calmly spoke:
“I’m organising my room. Tell me—does a noblewoman need this done this way?”
Finette forced a laugh. Regina returned it and stepped toward the scattered dresses, folding them neatly onto the sofa. The hem of her gown fluttered annoyingly—but she ignored it.
I want to yank her collar… but if I use force, she’ll have an excuse to bully me. Different tactic than before.
“Madame Beaumont, I warn you: never touch my things again.”
“Oh dear—that’s ignorant. You must get rid of that filth—dusty things peel off with good cleaning. Every noblewoman does this,” Finette lied boldly.
Regina noted the lie—Finette had never treated a noblewoman’s wardrobe this way. But she simply smiled.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course!”
“Then, as a lady, may I ask—are you eating properly?”
Finette tensed. The maids shifted uncomfortably, caught between them. Regina’s calm enquiries snapped the tension.
“And are you being paid fairly?”
“What’s this all of a sudden?” Finette’s voice clipped.
“Are you offering the maids a chance to complain about the head maid’s ugly behaviour?”
Regina kept her gaze steady, tossing small but pointed questions like stones across a quiet lake—enough to make ripples.
“Everyone out!” Finette snapped, rising suddenly.
The maids hesitated—between loyalty to Finette and the duchess, they were torn.
Regina smiled gently at them:
“It’s alright—go on.”
