Episode 35
“I went out alone last night… and I went to the doctor’s house. I’m sure Hans knows…”
He said this with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Doctor? Why?”
“I can’t sleep. I asked for some sleeping pills.”
“Oh, really?”
Maria tilted her head.
“Hans never said that.”
“That’s strange.”
“Why, it could be a doctor and a lover! I heard Dr. Mekel isn’t married!”
Another maid giggled and playfully tapped Maria on the shoulder.
Maria giggled too, but their laughter faded when they noticed Monica’s face harden slightly.
They all worked as servants of noblemen and knew very well how much such rumors could harm a young woman’s reputation.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Maria said, looking regretful.
“No, it’s okay,” Monica replied, glancing at Maria.
Maria hesitated, embarrassed, before finally speaking.
“Well, I met Hans this morning when I went to the garden to pick some vegetables. He asked me out of the blue if I knew whether Monica had a lover. I told him I didn’t know.”
Of all the maids, Maria was certainly the closest to Monica, so it wasn’t unusual for her to bring this up.
However, Monica felt a little unsettled knowing that Hans had asked such a question.
You seemed so polite yesterday.
Maria sighed and lightly patted Monica’s arm.
“Hans seems to be a bit interested in you. But I’ll tell him not to ask you that kind of thing again.”
“Um… No, I’ll handle it,” Monica said quickly.
“Are you sure?” Maria asked, concerned.
“What’s there to worry about?” Monica tried to smile, even though her tone risked sounding sharp.
“I won’t let Maria get hurt.”
“Hey, what’s there to bother me about? Poor Hans is just staring at a tree he can’t climb!”
Maria waved her hand dismissively. Another maid joined in, smiling.
“But Hans is okay. He’s honest.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Monica, if you don’t have a lover, what about Hans? He’s a bit awkward, but he’s kind! He doesn’t gamble much either.”
“Hey, what’s so great about him?” one maid grumbled. “He’s always meddling in the laundry room.”
Another maid chuckled and added, “Compared to those weird perverts who ask for names and meet others, Hans is a noble person.”
Monica raised an eyebrow, confused by the comment. The maids giggled among themselves.
“You mean that incredibly handsome guy Rose met a while ago?”
“He only met her because her name is Rose!”
“That’s just an excuse! No wonder Rose keeps clinging to him like that. Oh, dear, if I got dumped for a reason like that, I’d go hang myself!”
“Ouch, it’s noisy. Everyone, go back to your work!”
Maria waved her hands to shoo them away. The maids scattered, still giggling.
Monica stood up awkwardly and began clearing plates with Maria. When they finished, Maria spoke briefly.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“What are you talking about? I’m fine. It’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”
Although Monica reassured Maria, the atmosphere between them became strangely awkward. Monica forced a smile and left the kitchen.
She wasn’t in a good mood, but she didn’t want to confront Hans. After all, Hans hadn’t directly said anything to her.
If she were to approach him first and ask, “Do you like me? Stop doing that,” she’d only end up being laughed at.
Monica was still new here, and Hans had been working at the mansion far longer.
“Oh, honestly,” Monica muttered, rolling her shoulders back. She resolved to avoid Hans for the time being.
With so much to do, she didn’t have time to think about him. Martinel would be awake and washing up by now, and Monica needed to hurry to her room and finish writing a letter before breakfast.
The letter was for her fellow nurse, Diana, who had written her recommendation for the Mollett mansion. It was about confirming the recipe for the “green potion.”
“There was even a time when I thought about just marrying Miss Mollett,” she recalled a man saying this.
His tired, languid face and slightly trembling fingertips came to mind.
Monica shook her head. That man had considered marrying Riella, the lady of the largest mansion, simply because the townhouses were too noisy for him to sleep.
What a ridiculous thought.
Oddly enough, Monica realized she couldn’t imagine him standing next to Riella in formal attire. This thought lingered longer than her concerns about the “green potion.”
—
Time passed faster than Monica expected.
With warmer weather, social gatherings shifted to smaller indoor events like tea parties and friendly gatherings. The Mollett mansion hosted several of these.
“But even with a gazebo by the beach, they still gather. And now there’s a swimming competition coming up,” someone commented.
In the airy second-floor hall, laughter and music spilled out faintly.
The children, however, were excluded. Isabella, the ten-year-old daughter of Countess Valentino, had been left in Monica’s care. She was around Martinel’s age, and the three of them sat together in Martinel’s room, sipping iced pink tea.
“Oh, this is boring. Why aren’t you going?” Martinel grumbled, holding his glass.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Isabella replied sharply but then handed Monica her handkerchief.
“Wipe your sweat. You must be having a hard time because of Martinel.”
“Ahaha. Thank you, my lady. I think Countess Valentino would be pleased to see how considerate you are,” Monica replied with a smile.
“She’s the only one who doesn’t know that,” Isabella said smugly, lifting her chin.
“Ugh, I’m not marrying you!” Martinel exclaimed, glaring at her.
“Don’t you know how great I am?” Isabella retorted.
Monica watched the exchange with amusement but also a little sympathy for Martinel.
The two children were worlds apart in temperament, but Monica found herself drawn into their peculiar dynamic.
“I’m going to finish building the castle that I was building over there. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”
“Thank you, Martinel.”
“It’s unfair that the teacher gets in trouble because of him.”
Martinel, speaking in an adult tone, turned his head away without even looking at Isabella and went into his room. The door was left open, so Monica could watch Martinel build a castle with blocks while sitting in front of Isabella.
Isabella sighed and took a sip of tea. Her posture was so elegant that it reminded her of a princess.
Monica guessed that this was probably the ‘bad girl’ that Martinel had mentioned when he refused to go to the Countess’s birthday banquet and that she was the one who had been the object of his anger.
This is the first time I’ve seen Martinel hate someone this much.
“Miss Isabella is very clever.”
“Thank you, Miss Monica. I can’t help but feel threatened when I see a husband who is so stupid. That’s why I’m studying hard these days.”
“Ahahaha.”
Monica laughed awkwardly. Wherever you go, there are bound to be kids who are way too mature for their age.
However, it was unexpected that she was the daughter of a high-ranking family like a count. Isabella answered as if she had read Monica’s thoughts.
“There are no sons in my house. All are daughters. So my father’s title goes to my cousin. So my mother said I should marry Martinel. It was a shame that the Mollet family had no bestowed honor, but Lord Sollivan would marry his sister.”
Sollivan. Monica closed her mouth at the familiar name.
Isabella added again, seeming to interpret Monica’s stern face differently.
“It’s okay. It’s not really a secret in our family. That’s why my sisters got married so quickly.”
Isabella picked up a cookie, broke it into pieces, then broke it in half again and put it in her mouth.
A series of graceful movements were a testament to how intensely the ten-year-old girl had trained. Monica took notice and asked.
“But Miss Isabella, you know right, that Master Martinel doesn’t like you.”
The girl continued to chew the cookie slowly, her mouth still agape, even after Monica had finished speaking. Then, she suddenly started talking about her tutor.
“My tutor’s name is Rosemary. She’s from the East, and she even went to Beryl College. She’s amazing.”
“Oh my. That’s really amazing.”
Beryl College. Isabella shrugged as Monica exclaimed in admiration at the familiar yet still yearning name.
“But I heard that her father dragged her out before she could even finish her first year. If I go to college, my father will probably do the same.”
Monica’s green eyes darted from side to side. Isabella giggled.
“This isn’t really a secret. My older sisters all got married within a season of debuting in society. They’re the type of people who believe that if you just make eye contact with a man, you have to get married.”
Usually, ladies spend at least three seasons choosing a groom. If they choose enough, they may wait for more than a year or even two. But one season? Isn’t that too hasty? Isabella added again.
“So, marrying that stupid Martinel is the best thing for me.”
