Chapter 4
When I returned to the mansion with the groceries, the head maid led me to the kitchen.
“You’re late.”
“First time.”
Dinner that night was vegetable stew.
While I peeled potatoes, the head maid prepared carrots and onions and adjusted the seasoning.
When we finally sat at the table and faced the steaming, warm stew, something tightened in my chest.
How long has it been since I’ve had something this warm? And there are even proper dishes.
But… only we’re eating?
“For reference, the master takes care of his own meals, so you don’t need to worry about him.”
So that’s how it is.
I took a spoonful, tasted it, and swallowed.
A surprisingly rich flavor spread in my mouth—so good it shocked even someone like me, who had lived like a beggar.
“It’s bad.”
“It’s bad?”
“…ma’am.”
“Keep thoughts like that to yourself. I’ve never been good at cooking.”
We finished our meal in silence.
For reference, I was on my third bowl, and the head maid stared at me with tired eyes as I kept eating like a laboring slave.
“It’s only been a day, but I’ve never seen a maid like you. Not to brag, but many maids have come and gone from the Weatherwoods mansion. Most of them either quit quickly or ran away.”
I think I understood why.
But it was awkward to say out loud, so I just kept moving my spoon.
“How did you end up in this job?”
How did I end up here?
After escaping Quin Island with the soldiers’ help, I had one big problem.
I had no money.
My home had burned down long ago, and I had lost the identity I’d used for ten years.
A woman with no connections and no skills has very limited options.
Factories require introductions.
Farms have off-seasons.
Shop jobs don’t provide lodging.
The only way to secure both food and shelter along with money was to become a maid.
That’s why I told the interviewer I wanted a “ruthless employer.”
Because I needed work, even in a place like that.
A maid…
In the end, it wasn’t a bad choice.
I only had three years anyway.
And to extend that time, I needed to find that item in this city, Midwintry.
I didn’t plan to save money or live luxuriously.
Just enough to survive—that was all I needed.
The head maid’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at me.
“If it’s hard to answer, you don’t have to. Everyone has their own story, don’t they?”
I was about to say, “I have no home and no money,” but changed my mind and kept quiet.
If I reveal I’m broke, she might work me even harder.
Better to seem like someone with a tragic past.
Maybe she’d go easier on me.
…She didn’t.
I still had to wash the dishes.
***
The next day.
Following the head maid’s orders, I cleaned the mansion like a dog.
“You really have great strength and stamina, Daisy. Today we’ll clean the dust on the second-floor ceiling. Did you know? If you leave it long enough, even ceilings collect dust.”
I had only closed my eyes for a moment after dinner, but somehow a new day had already begun.
Was this real?
I hadn’t experienced anything like this since my battlefield days.
The day after that.
Today, I worked like an ox instead of a dog.
“A new employee will arrive tomorrow morning. Today will be even more demanding, so we’ll finish about an hour earlier. Let’s start with cleaning the fireplaces in each room.”
After about three days, I started getting used to being a maid.
It felt about time to look into my real purpose for coming to Midwintry.
So I asked the head maid and the market merchants about that item.
But the answers were all the same.
“Hm. You mean the legacy left behind by Dian Ket? It must exist. Probably locked away in some noble’s treasure vault.”
“Dian Ket’s legacy? Ah, yes, they say something like that is hidden in this city… but it’s just a rumor. Only children believe it.”
The Legacy of Dian Ket.
That’s right.
I came to Midwintry to find one of the five relics left behind by Dian Ket—specifically, the “Eye.”
Dian Ket was a legendary healer said to revive even the dead.
He divided his power among five relics and sealed them away.
Legend says that if all five are gathered, any incurable illness can be healed.
Though whether it can fix a broken soul is another matter.
Dian Ket, like Mephisto, was considered a demigod.
If I could find it, it would be worth the effort.
And so, I spent my days balancing my maid duties with searching for Dian Ket’s legacy.
That night, as exhaustion dragged me toward sleep—
My senses suddenly sharpened.
One person.
Someone had slipped into my room.
The footsteps, breathing, timing—everything was precise.
A skilled infiltrator.
I considered striking first but held back.
Well-trained assassins tend to kill themselves if they sense they’ll fail.
A very annoying habit.
So unless I caught them off guard, I wouldn’t learn who sent them.
“Wake up, maid.”
A cold blade touched just beneath my chin.
“Make a sound, and I’ll slit your throat. Stay quiet and listen. If you want to live, follow my orders.”
When I opened my eyes calmly, I saw cold blue eyes staring down at me.
“From today on, you are a spy. Observe the movements of Baron Weatherwoods and report regularly.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? This isn’t a request—it’s an order. If you want to live, obey.”
The intruder seemed slightly taken aback by my response.
“Why?”
“…You must still be half asleep.”
I flicked his forehead.
Just a light flick—but he nearly lost consciousness.
I didn’t miss the moment.
I shoved my fingers into his mouth and pulled out a hidden pill.
It had been fitted neatly where a molar should be.
A suicide pill.
Commonly used by assassin guilds.
“Why?”
As he regained his senses quickly, I stuffed a blanket into his mouth.
I pinned him to the floor and began removing the weapons hidden all over his body.
“Why?”
A needle-like blade. A solid dagger. Unknown powder. Leaf-shaped shuriken…
And finally, even the emergency suicide pill hidden in his sleeve.
By the time I finished, the fighting spirit in his eyes was gone.
Now, he had no way to kill himself.
“Answer.”
He shut his eyes tightly in despair, then nodded.
When I removed the blanket, he spoke in disbelief.
“You’re no ordinary maid. Who are you?”
“Answer.”
“…I only took on a job from the guild. I don’t know who requested it or why the Baron must be watched.”
“How many before me?”
“…At least three.”
That meant at least three maids before me had been threatened the same way.
All for one purpose.
To spy on Baron Weatherwoods.
“What happened to them?”
“….”
“Answer.”
“I don’t know. My role is only to make the maid swear obedience. I’m not involved before or after that.”
The assassin raised a small tack-shaped earring on his right ear.
I could feel a strange energy from it.
A magical tool.
Likely used to enforce the oath.
An oath is a contract sealed with the soul.
Break it, and your soul is destroyed—you die.
It was a forbidden magic, banned long ago.
And they tried to use something like that on a mere maid… more than three times?
Now that I thought about it, something had felt off.
The mansion was demanding, yes—but not enough to make maids repeatedly quit or run away.
The master never appeared.
The room was large and decent.
The schedule was strict—6 a.m. to 7 p.m.
So the maids probably didn’t run away.
They disappeared.
Not by choice.
And yet… there’s no Baron in this mansion.
After ten years on the battlefield, sensing presence is second nature to me.
I was certain.
Baron Weatherwoods wasn’t here.
And hadn’t been for a long time.
If they’ve sent assassins more than three times, the client must know that.
An empty mansion.
And someone persistently trying to monitor it.
This place—
was suspicious in every way.
