Chapter 31
The maids, led by May, had long been wary of Anne.
It was as obvious as daylight that the chirpy, gossip-prone maids would blame the outsider Anne and chatter endlessly over the slightest rumor.
“No. We cannot let someone who dared deceive the lord serve Clayde for even one more day. For this matter, I’m grateful to you.”
Anne quickly masked her surprise at the sharp hostility that cut through the butler’s tired expression.
She had personally recommended May as head maid and had even contributed to Silvia’s medical expenses—she had thought they were on friendly terms. But there wasn’t a trace of sympathy in his judgment of May.
Still, Anne tried not to be shocked. High-ranking butlers often carried an intense pride and loyalty toward their master’s family. It wasn’t unfamiliar.
“Get some rest. I can’t sleep anyway, which is why I’m still up. If both the head maid and the butler are exhausted tomorrow, it’ll only make things worse.”
Anne was also completely drained. Patrick waved her off while wiping his face with a dry towel.
Feeling her presence would only be a burden, Anne reluctantly stepped back.
“Then please don’t overdo it and try to get some sleep, Mr. Butler.”
“I will.”
Despite the heaviness in her steps, there was nothing she could do.
When she trudged back to her room, it was already dawn, and Dona was sitting on the bed, still awake.
“Dona, you haven’t slept yet?”
“Anne.”
Even the maids were anxious from the tense atmosphere.
“I heard you’re the new head maid starting today.”
“It’s just temporary. Things will change when the young count returns.”
Anne answered nonchalantly and started pulling the blanket over herself, but Dona suddenly spoke up.
“Anne, about the whole head maid May’s embezzlement thing… we didn’t know anything. I swear. Especially us maids. Working for the Clayde family in the west is a huge source of pride.”
“…There really wasn’t anything suspicious?”
“Well, if I think about it now, after the young lady’s debutante, Head Maid May did start spending a bit more freely. She’d treat not just her close maids but also others like me to meals, and even gave souvenirs to the male servants under the butler. Said she went on weekend trips to the Oasis.”
“And none of you thought that was strange?”
Could westerners really be that naive, to trust such suspicious behavior so easily?
They were less pretentious than capital city folks, but maids survived by reading the room.
As Anne’s suspicion remained, Dona continued.
“We trusted her. This is Clayde, after all. Who would dare lie to or deceive the lord? We westerners are the kind who’d follow the lord even over God. Especially in Teganess, Clayde is practically a religion. Like a witch.”
Anne’s expression soured at the mention of witches.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because no one in the west would ever dare deceive Clayde. They’d be cursed, or meet a terrible end.”
“What do you mean?”
“To defy Clayde, who receives the witch’s blessing, is no different than inviting misfortune and a tragic fate. That’s why here in the west, a traitor always means someone from the capital. The Countess always said so too. That outsiders were all enemies—here to disturb and divide us.”
Dona was just a low-ranking maid. Yet despite her youth, she held such exclusive and blind beliefs.
Moreover, the only non-western person currently at the estate was Anne. It felt like Dona was accusing her to her face.
“You’re not saying I’m here to stir things up, are you?”
“No, it’s not that. I just meant we’re not the kind to be swayed by a few coins. Anne, you wouldn’t understand since you’re not from the west.”
The butler’s excessive loyalty and the maids’ near-religious devotion—was it all out of fear of the witch?
Anne, for the first time, found herself seriously pondering the witch Moira.
“I don’t believe in witches. Has anyone even seen one?”
Dona’s face filled with disappointment at that.
“Then have you seen God to believe in Him? Do people in the capital follow God because they’ve actually met Him?”
In the capital, nobles regularly visited temples to donate and pray.
Servants like Anne, who couldn’t afford that, would save money all year just to donate and receive blessings during major holidays.
In Duke Benton’s estate, the servants’ quarters even had a separate chapel.
It was more convenient and economical than going to church weekly, so it had been built out of the master’s consideration.
Anne hadn’t stepped into a real church until she became a duchess. Before that, she only offered brief prayers in passing at the chapel.
Even attending the temple once a year was a major event.
And yet, believing in God was considered natural—never something to be questioned.
Did these people view the witch the same way? But surely the imperial clergy wouldn’t tolerate heresy…
“The witch has saved our lives more than the god you believe in.”
As Anne’s doubt remained, Dona added sullenly,
“I didn’t mean to belittle your beliefs, Dona.”
“Fine. Goodnight.”
Dona turned away, pulling the blanket over herself, making it clear she didn’t want to continue the conversation. Anne pulled the blanket over her own head and forced her eyes shut.
But memories surfaced—May’s condescending tone and scornful gaze whenever she mocked Anne for being from the capital. And over it all, Hannibal’s cold, indifferent eyes.
I’m not the one who wants to doubt people. It’s you.
* * *
Had she slept another two or three hours?
Anne woke with a start, feeling the sun sting her cheeks. Her body felt heavy.
She hurriedly got dressed and rushed out—only to find the place already in chaos.
“Where’s the butler?”
She stopped a busy servant to ask.
“In the dungeon.”
That could only mean May Marlow had been captured. Anne quickly made her way there.
“Mr. Patrick.”
“You’re already awake, Anne?”
She ran into the butler at the entrance, just as he was climbing up the dungeon stairs.
He had looked tired before bed, but now his face was filled with something deeper—grief.
“Did something happen?”
“May Marlow turned herself in.”
“What?”
“She came at dawn. Said her daughter Silvia was dead, and that she’d killed the boyfriend who killed her. She asked me to end her life.”
Apparently, overnight, May, Silvia, and her boyfriend Kevin had planned to escape together.
But Silvia, in poor health, couldn’t move quickly. Kevin had tried to run away with just the money, abandoning the two women. A struggle broke out in their hideout.
During it, Silvia clung to Kevin, but he shoved her violently. She struck her head against a wall and didn’t get back up.
Enraged by her daughter’s death, May had killed Kevin.
“So Silvia’s boyfriend is the root of all this.”
“Go see her yourself. Best to let the young lady rest a bit longer.”
“Yes.”
Anne descended the dark stone steps of the dungeon. In the cell beside Sam Robert’s, May sat slumped and dazed.
The venom in her eyes, the sharp tongue—none of it remained.
Anne quietly spoke to her.
“Why did you do it?”
May looked up, as if unsure what Anne meant.
“Why did you give the relic to Matilda?”
Because of you, who would now face judgment anyway, another innocent life had been lost.
Perhaps understanding the implication, May let out a bitter laugh.
“I suppose I look pathetic to you.”
“…I’m truly sorry to hear about your daughter.”
“Just say you’re pleased. Why do people from the capital lie all the time? That bastard said money was all that mattered! I got him everything, and yet he abandoned my daughter. All those expensive medicines, all that talk about miracle doctors—it was all a lie! And then he laughed at us. At me for deceiving the lord, and at my daughter for being stupid.”
“…”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being punished for using that woman. But he deserved punishment too. So I killed him with my own hands.”
Anne could only look on in pity at May’s disheveled figure, gripping the cell bars and yelling.
“My daughter… Silvia’s gone. What’s the point of living now? Huhuhuhu… Just kill me… Tell the lord I beg for death. I just wanted to save her. I wanted to see her laugh, healthy and bright, walking around under the sun—huhuhuhuhu…”
May collapsed, pounding the ground with her fists and sobbing.
But nothing lost would return.
And Matilda’s life, sacrificed in the process, felt painfully empty and senseless.
