Chapter 10
Episode 10
Click.
As the door fully closed, Edel let out a long sigh without realizing it.
*Today has safely come to an end too.*
It was a sigh mixed with fatigue and relief, but finally having time to rest in her own space brought a faint smile to her lips.
At first, she had thought it was a very small room, but now she liked how cozy and snug it felt.
She sat on the bed and massaged her red, swollen hands.
It had been ten days since she arrived here.
Her once smooth hands had become rough just three days after starting work in the laundry room.
Even looking at those rough hands brought a smile to her face.
*Spoils of war*
*The fact that he still hasn't sought me out means Count Crisus really intends to use me only as a maid.*
Every time Laslo returned from the palace during that time, she had been on pins and needles. Wondering if he might suddenly order Marsha to "wash her and bring her to my room" or something similar.
*Duchess*
But Laslo seemed to have no interest in her whatsoever. As if he had already forgotten her existence.
She couldn't have been happier or more grateful for it.
*Written by ruly lemon frog*
*It seems Count Crisus saved me after all.*
That was the conclusion Edel had reached after replaying the events of the victory banquet over and over.
If Laslo had refused her that day, saying he didn't need her, she would have been bestowed upon someone else.
And she was certain that not a single one among those who had reached out for her there was a gentleman who would uphold propriety.
*Count Crisus said right there that he'd use me as a maid. No one might believe it, but even so, he gave me a chance to preserve my honor.*
If someone later asked what she had done in the Crisus Count household, she could claim, "I was a maid."
Of course, such a situation would likely never arise.
- 2 -
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"Thank you, Celia, but... is that okay?"
Does that person even know how grateful I am?
"What's not okay about it? And it wasn't for your sake anyway, so don't worry."
The dead might rage to hear it, but honestly, Edel was glad to have escaped the Lancaster Duke's family even in this way. To her, the Lancaster Duke's family had been a prison where she couldn't even dream or breathe comfortably.
Celia turned away brusquely, telling her to just get on with her work, but Edel was truly grateful to her.
Moreover, the Canian Count family wouldn't come looking for her anymore either, so selfishly speaking, this situation wasn't so bad.
However, contrary to Celia's words that there was nothing wrong, starting the next day, the quality of meals for the laundry maids subtly declined—smaller loaves of bread, soup with hardly any solids, fruits with many rotten spots, and so on.
Of course, the laundry work wasn't easy.
It was clearly Marsha's doing.
Sitting in one place for long hours, washing heaps of laundry in cold water, made not just her hands ache, but her back, knees—no, her entire body.
When Edel shot her an apologetic glance, Celia whispered while chewing on underripe potatoes.
*Still, it's more relaxing than living on edge all day. At least I sleep soundly now.*
"This is just for a day or two. It's a hassle to prepare separate meals just for us. Just watch."
Living under gazes that hoped she'd slip up even once had been far more mentally draining than this.
And as she said, today's meal had been the same as everyone else's.
The only problem was the head maid.
Of course, in the meantime, Edel had gone without dinner for about two days, but she hadn't told Celia.
Marsha nitpicked at everything, no one knew what displeased her.
It wasn't as if she'd skipped two full meals in a row—just dinner for two days—and for Edel, who had often been forced to fast for "figure management," it wasn't a big deal.
A head maid's job was to check if the maids were working properly, but Marsha kept coming to the laundry room and overturning everything Edel had washed, which was extremely troublesome.
In truth, if she hadn't had to rewash what Marsha overturned, her body wouldn't ache this much.
Even when the meal quality dropped, fruit had come regularly...
*Still, Celia spoke up for me, and things got better. I didn't expect that from her.*
She fiddled with her rough fingertips, recalling the "decent" apple slice she'd eaten for dinner tonight.
Anyway, another day had come to an end.
Marsha, who had nitpicked only Edel's laundry, had apparently made up her mind; about three days ago, she'd flown into a rage and even struck the back of her head.
"You washed it like this again? Are you stupid, or ignoring my words?"
She made such unreasonable demands while delivering a hard smack to the back of Edel's head. It hurt less than a slap to the face, but felt far worse.
Edel had been speechless in disbelief, but Celia, the senior laundry maid, exploded right there.
"Madam! Don't you know how busy the laundry room is? If you keep doing this, adding one more maid is pointless!"
Edel's eyes snapped open unwittingly.
"Busy is busy, but work has to be done right!"
"Then demonstrate it yourself, Madam! I don't know any way to wash it cleaner, so I couldn't teach her more!"
A chill ran down her spine. Could it be that Laslo, who had been silent until now, had suddenly called for her?
With that, she actually brought a pitch-black rag and a bar of soap right in front of Marsha.
Marsha didn't glare at the rag and soap but at Celia, grinding her teeth before whirling around and storming out.
At this hour, who could it be?
Then came another small knock.
Edel carefully rose from her seat and asked,
"Who... is it?"
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