Chapter 11
I hummed softly, offering a shallow display of contemplation before delivering my reply with effortless ease.
“Since you oversee the household’s internal management, Aunt, I shall defer to your judgment.”
“…Is that your final answer?”
Aubrey’s reaction was predictable; she hadn’t anticipated such compliance. It was glaringly obvious that she had intended to twist whatever I said to tarnish my reputation.
“However, I must insist this doesn’t happen in my quarters. My grandfather gifted me this room, and I refuse to have it stained by such brutality. Aunt Aubrey.”
There was no fault to be found in my logic, and for a split second, her composure wavered.
Still, she was a seasoned noblewoman. Regaining her mask of authority in an instant, she barked an order with piercing sharpness.
“Drag these insolent wretches to the Disciplinary Basement at once!”
“As you command, Madam!”
“Baroness! Mercy, please!”
“Lady Tulia! Forgive us! Please, save us!”
Their desperate pleas soon faded into the distance. As I watched Aubrey’s veteran attendants gag them with practiced efficiency, it became clear that this was a routine occurrence for her staff.
“Now then, Tulia. To think the very people sent to serve you were capable of such treachery…”
Aubrey pressed a lace handkerchief to her eyes, her voice dripping with artificial warmth.
“My heart broke for you, truly. That is why I have personally vetted candidates to serve as your Head Maid.”
She signaled with two sharp claps, prompting two women waiting behind her to step forward and bow deeply.
“I have narrowed it down to these two for your convenience. Select whichever one you prefer.”
The way she emphasized her effort made it clear the performance was intended for Ruk Kelfosher’s benefit. She was playing the role of the doting relative to perfection.
I shifted my focus to the two women as they introduced themselves in tandem.
“I am Rilda, my Lady.”
“And I am Adel, my Lady.”
The first appeared to be in her early thirties, while the second looked closer to forty.
Aubrey gestured toward the younger woman first.
“Rilda’s father was granted a hereditary title. She is a girl of noble lineage.”
The Tulia of the past would have jumped at the chance to hire Rilda. In high society, a servant with blue blood was a coveted status symbol, believed to reflect the prestige of their employer.
I knew better, though. Aubrey’s sudden generosity was a red flag; Rilda was undoubtedly a spy planted by my aunt.
When I bypassed Rilda to study Adel, Aubrey’s plastic smile twitched with irritation. She quickly recovered, however, placing a hand on my shoulder with a patronizing air.
“Of course, Tulia. Adel does have a certain quiet dignity, doesn’t she? She is diligent and quite skilled with her hands, despite her origins in the ‘Borderlands.’”
The mention of her birthplace hung in the air. Adel remained perfectly still, her expression a mask of humility, but a flicker of disdain crossed Rilda’s face.
In the world of the Empire, the Borderlands were notorious. Located at the eastern edge of the realm, they were often dismissed as a godforsaken wilderness where temples were never built. Dark rumors of cannibals and heretics plagued the region’s reputation.
While the stories of man-eaters were exaggerations, the stigma was very real. Anyone from the Borderlands, noble or commoner, was treated like a social pariah in the Capital. It was a place of rugged terrain and social exile.
Finding work outside that region was almost impossible due to the intense prejudice. The fact that Adel had secured a position in the Grand Ducal House at all suggested she possessed extraordinary talent.
It was obvious that Aubrey had brought Adel along simply as a foil to make Rilda look like the only logical choice.
I found myself in a difficult position. While I wanted to choose Adel, I had to be mindful of Tulia’s social standing.
My Status Window didn’t provide specific grades for reputation as it did for wealth or beauty. Instead, it only offered dire warnings when my standing hit rock bottom. If I ignored those alerts, I would inevitably trigger a ‘Bad Ending,’ just like in the game.
I weighed my options carefully. Should I take the arrogant noblewoman or the modest woman from the slums?
Suddenly, a system notification pinged above Adel’s head.
I hadn’t even tried to activate it. Startled, I focused my gaze on the flickering window.
My breath hitched as the text materialized.
[System: Profile]
Adel ??? (40)
- Native of the Borderlands.
- Joined the Frazier household at twenty; has a flawless service record.
- Hidden Secret: …(More)
The prompt for more information stunned me. I tried to remain calm, knowing all eyes were on me, and mentally selected the ‘More’ option.
The text shimmered and expanded into a full biography.
[System: Profile]
Adel Kelposher (40)
- Native of the Borderlands.
- Joined the Frazier household at twenty; has a flawless service record.
- Secret: She is the estranged younger sister of Ruk Kelfosher, the Grand Duke’s Chief Advisor.
(☆Tip: Ruk Kelfosher carries a heavy burden of guilt regarding Adel Kelposher.)
I was reeling. The age gap between them was significant, but not impossible. Even in my past life as Han Ina, I’d had brothers nearly a decade older than me—though they were people I’d rather forget.
The age difference wasn’t the point. The ‘Tip’ was the real treasure here.
If Ruk Kelfosher was truly indebted to her emotionally, then choosing Adel was better than winning the lottery.
I bit back a triumphant grin, schooling my features into a look of solemn resolve.
“Aunt Aubrey.”
“Yes, dear? You’ve decided on Rilda, I assume? It’s only right for someone of your rank to have a noblewoman at her side—”
“Actually, no.”
Aubrey blinked, her voice trailing off. “No?”
“That’s right.” I beamed at her, the joy in my expression finally genuine. “I’ve decided. Adel will be my Head Maid.”
