Ch#62
Leta couldn’t manage the trays of refreshments alone, so additional maids from the Duke’s household were summoned to lend a hand.
What’s so amusing?
Intrigued, I hailed the group.
“Hey, you there.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness!”
“What exactly is ‘Couple’s Night’?”
“…!”
The maids weren’t the only ones flushing crimson—nearby footmen did too, at my innocent query.
“W-Well…”
One maid ducked her head as if guilty of some grave offense.
“Hmm? No reprimand here. Pure curiosity on my part.”
I shrugged nonchalantly to ease the tension, yet they remained mute, lips sealed tight.
“Your Highness?”
Cecilia reappeared then, notebook and pen in hand, cocking her head at the strained air.
“Cecilia, any idea what ‘Couple’s Night’ means?”
She drew in a sharp breath.
Ahem.
“Back to your duties, everyone,” she commanded.
The rigid staff shuffled reluctantly to their tasks.
Cecilia sidled close and murmured into my ear,
“Couple’s Night is… when a couple… shares the night… just the two of them…”
She retreated swiftly post-whisper. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught servants stealing glances while feigning indifference.
“It’s hardly scandalous. Why the collective blush?”
I voiced it clearly, for all to hear. Awkward laughter rippled through them as they resumed work.
That sparked a memory of Cecilia’s earlier explanation:
“In the North, chill nights drive families to share rooms. ‘Couple’s Night’ lets parents entrust kids elsewhere for private time.”
In tight-knit villages, they’d trade childcare duties, granting others that cherished solitude.
“No wonder the maids likened it to Couple’s Night—all the children clustered, merry and boisterous.”
As she spoke, recognition dawned.
Hold on…! I clapped sharply.
Back when I first stepped into the Duke’s estate, I’d eavesdropped on maids chattering:
— “My sister parked her little one at Grandma’s for a bit and—bam—second child on the way!”
They’d also swapped tales of a kid barging into parents’ quarters, sending the father tumbling and spraining his ankle.
Northern couples struggled for intimacy amid the kids.
A guesthouse deal swapping in for Couple’s Night? Bound to thrive.
I won’t let the Merchant’s Guild sabotage Marie’s Inn.
It’s my inaugural venture, after all.
Ideas swirled in my mind.
What romantic perks do inns tout?
Champagne toasts or floral room setups sprang to mind, but they clashed with Northern rusticity.
I beckoned Leta, who hovered near the children.
“Didn’t you mention some maids have families?”
In the capital, maids stayed single; here, wedded women juggled part-time shifts.
“Round up a handful for a chat?”
“A chat?”
Pre-reincarnation, I’d run focus groups—casual huddles mining consumer insights.
I sketched the notion for hesitant Leta.
“Problem?”
“Honesty permitted?”
“Always.”
“Married maids tend to be veterans, loyal to the head maid.”
“They’d stonewall me?”
“No maid defies Your Highness outright, but Marzella would meddle covertly.”
Leta’s keen insight had schooled me on the estate’s undercurrents.
Post my public dressing-down of Marzella, slackers pivoted to “the Duchess’s faction.” An unseen rift now split her diehards from my allies.
My staff perks had further eroded her sway.
Yet longtime senior maids clung fiercely to rank.
Leta noted their clique’s clout.
That only fueled my resolve to consult them.
“Cecilia.”
I grinned slyly.
“Once we’re back, sow some seeds.”
Let whispers fly of a fresh personal maid hunt.
Bennet entered the Duchess’s quarters with trepidation.
Three peers trailed her—handpicked by the head maid.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
Rising from her bow, she found the Duchess poised elegantly, hands clasped.
Gone was the disheveled newcomer of mere months past; poise defined her now.
“I know your face.”
The Duchess’s smile warmed gently.
“I-I’m Bennet,” she stammered, dipping her gaze to mask unease.
She’d been among those attempting to haul Leta off when Marzella had barged in two months prior.
Never dreamed she’d recall…
Bennet flicked a sidelong look.
Her companions mirrored her strain.
Their shared directive rang clear:
Secure the post of Duchess’s personal maid.
Marzella’s head maid perch wobbled.
Loyalties frayed.
She’d dispatched her inner circle, Bennet included, to curry favor.
Compounding woes: the Duchess had tapped unyielding Leta—and no others.
Rumor then ignited:
“The Duchess seeks married maids.”
Marzella rallied her core.
— “One of you claims that role. Spare no effort.”
My shot, Bennet mused.
Favor here bridged powers; she’d pick sides later.
Just eclipse the rest.
Like-minded, they settled eagerly at the Duchess’s nod.
“You’re all wed, I hear. Mind fielding questions?” the Duchess asked amiably. “Husbands, kin—be candid, but pass on the prickly bits.”
Bennet seized first strike.
“Ask away, Your Highness. All’s fair game.”
She edged forward.
Rivals chimed in, vowing full candor.
“Grateful. Onward.”
The Duchess lifted a sheet from the table.
“First: ‘Couple’s Night’—familiar?”
“Pardon?”
Eyes bulged in unison.
Bewilderment reigned, as if ears deceived.
“Next, if yes: Ever parked kids elsewhere for one?”
Her smile fixed on Bennet.
“You lead.”
Questions tumbled, odd and meandering, till the Duchess nodded, pleased.
“Appreciate your candor.”
Selecting now?
Anticipation lifted their chins.
“Invaluable input. Rewards forthcoming.”
A courteous smile ushered them out.
They departed in a fog.
Marzella seethed upon hearing no picks.
Worse: the queries defied sense; none could parse the point.
Days shy of a week, Bennet’s summons arrived via the Duchess’s maid.
“Read it here.”
Chosen?
Envelope yielded a surprise.
“Couple’s Night Package at Marie’s Inn
Spend a special evening with your spouse!”
“What…?”
“Her Highness’s token.”
Bennet withdrew the leaflet:
Marie’s Inn – Couple’s Night Full Package
One-night stay in a romantic couple’s room
Dinner and breakfast made with ‘Cecilia’s Recipes’
Today’s dessert set and premium wine delivered to your room
Separate group sleeping room and play area for children
Door-to-door carriage pick-up service
“Convey thanks fittingly.”
The maid smirked, adding,
“Snagging a night there’ll soon outshine star-reaching.”
Bennet blinked, at a loss for words.