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Chapter 36: The Madam’s Letter

“P-please forgive me! Just this once…”

“Forgive? You dare lay a hand on the Grand Madam’s body and still have the audacity to beg for forgiveness?”

“I-it was truly a mistake! Please, have mercy!”

The maid prostrated herself on the floor, her tears falling like raindrops.

From the very beginning, the Grand Madam had harbored a strong distaste for the maids of the Vandermeer estate. While her own son was suffering from insomnia in the duchy, the servants of this household—who served the cause of his misery—seemed to be living comfortably. That alone was enough to make her resent them.

Finding any excuse to reprimand them, she had already made three maids cry just today. Yet, even that did not satisfy her.

‘Our Alex has dark circles under his eyes from all the stress, and yet these girls, taking after their shameless mistress, have such flawless, healthy skin.’

Merely scolding them until they cried was not enough. As she gazed down impassively at the trembling maid looking up at her with tear-filled eyes, the Grand Madam slowly opened her lips.

“Jessie, go fetch the cane.”

“Yes, Grand Madam!”

At the mention of the cane, the maid’s face turned deathly pale. Corporal punishment for maids was an outdated practice, but unfortunately for her, the Grand Madam of Vandermeer was a woman of the old ways.

When her own maid returned with the cane, she rolled up her sleeves. The young maid, kneeling before her, pleaded desperately.

“Grand Madam, please… forgive me. I will never make such a mistake again. Please…”

“Silence! If you are truly remorseful, then you should willingly offer your hands.”

At the Grand Madam’s signal, her personal maid grabbed the young maid’s hands roughly and pulled them forward.

Overcome with fear, the girl struggled, but she could not break free from the strong grip that held her in place.

In the end, her small hands were forced open before the Grand Madam.

“Hold her tightly.”

“Yes, Grand Madam.”

Swish! The sound of the cane slicing through the air was especially loud. With merciless strength and speed, the Grand Madam struck the maid’s palm.

Red welts formed instantly on her skin, thin lines crisscrossing until blood began to seep through. Even as the young maid’s flesh split open, the punishment did not cease. When the Grand Madam’s arm grew tired, she simply handed the cane to her own maid, ordering her to continue the beating.

Low whimpers and muffled sobs echoed through the guest room where the Grand Madam resided.

Aracila’s early return home was no coincidence.

The Grand Madam had ordered her to return before 3 PM to receive proper household education.

As she made her way upstairs to change before encountering the Grand Madam, Aracila sensed an unusual tension among the maids.

“What’s going on?”

She paused on the stairs and asked. The maids who had come to greet her hesitated. With a gentle voice, Aracila urged them again.

“It’s alright, just tell me. What happened?”

“Well… Cindy is being caned by the Grand Madam right now.”

Once one person spoke up, another quickly added,

“It’s already been ten minutes.”

Even enduring three minutes of caning would be unbearable—ten minutes was sheer cruelty. Aracila’s expression hardened instantly.

“Do you know why?”

“She was trimming the Grand Madam’s nails and accidentally touched her skin…”

“I see.”

So she had been getting beaten for ten minutes over something so trivial.

Abandoning her plan to change clothes, Aracila headed straight for the guest room. Audrey hurried to follow.

Knock, knock.

Aracila rapped on the door but entered before any response could come.

Her glassy blue eyes swept over the scene inside.

The maids stood stiffly as if awaiting their own punishment. The Grand Madam’s personal maids gripped the young girl tightly as they continued striking her. And on the sofa, watching it all unfold, sat the Grand Madam of Vandermeer.

Lastly, Aracila’s gaze settled on the young maid whose face and hands were swollen and bright red. The girl, barely holding back her tears, turned her gaze toward her.

“Who gave you permission to enter without knocking? Have you no basic manners?”

The Grand Madam snapped sharply at her. But Aracila, unfazed, stepped closer to the young maid.

“Let her go.”

Her voice was low but commanding as she addressed the maids restraining the girl.

Intimidated by her piercing gaze, they instinctively began to comply—

“Do not let go.”

—but the Grand Madam cut in, stopping them.

Their eyes met in mid-air, locked in a silent battle of wills.

“If you wish to give orders to my maids, then come back once you’ve earned that right.”

“I have already earned it.”

Aracila’s voice remained composed.

“So I will take that as permission and give my order. Release her hands immediately.”

Her raised voice startled the maids, and as if burned, they quickly withdrew their hands.

Aracila took one look at them before pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapping it around the young maid’s wounded palms.

“You’ve endured a lot. I’ll take care of the rest, so you can go now.”

“Hic… Madam…”

“Audrey, take Cindy out.”

Audrey embraced the weeping girl’s shoulder and guided her out.

Watching the scene with clear disapproval, the Grand Madam’s anger erupted.

“Who gave you permission to take her away?! I forbid it!”

“You’ve already punished her excessively. That should be more than enough, Grand Madam.”

Aracila positioned herself between the young maid and the Grand Madam, shielding her like a barrier. Taking advantage of the moment, Audrey and Cindy quickly slipped out of the room.

The Grand Madam glared furiously at Aracila but then hesitated for a moment.

Her eyes—clear and filled with intelligence—reminded the Grand Madam of a cloudless autumn sky.

Just that morning, she had looked meek, avoiding eye contact as if completely intimidated.

But now, standing tall and looking her directly in the eye, she was different.

‘To think she recovered so quickly… She must have the resilience of a weed.’

The Grand Madam’s expression darkened. In a voice as cold as ice, she spoke.

“Excessive punishment? Did you just accuse me of taking out my anger on her?”

“I heard that the young maid made a mistake while assisting you. But the punishment far exceeded the offense. Please let your anger subside.”

“Aracila Hugo! How dare you speak so impudently—”

“It’s Vandermeer, Grand Madam.”

Even in the midst of conflict, Aracila calmly corrected her.

With a gentle smile, she added,

“If my words sounded impudent, then I sincerely apologize.”

“Ha! Is that the attitude of someone who claims to be remorseful?”

“Then, what should I do? If you tell me, Grand Madam, I will follow your instructions exactly.”

At those words, a cold smile crept onto the Grand Madam’s lips. She had thought she had half-crushed Aracila’s spirit, but it seemed that was not the case. This time, she would make sure to teach her a proper lesson.

Beckoning Aracila closer with a flick of her fingers, she spoke with arrogance.

“I’ve long felt that the maids in this estate provide inadequate service. And that is entirely because of their lacking mistress. Shouldn’t you learn how to serve properly first?”

“Yes.”

“Starting tomorrow, stop going to work and personally attend to me instead. Only then will you truly understand how to manage and discipline the maids under you.”

The maids remaining in the room reacted with visible unease. The Grand Madam’s declaration—essentially forcing their mistress into servitude—was, of course, unwelcome news.

But Aracila remained composed.

“I will do as you say.”

“Good. Now leave.”

“Yes, Grand Madam.”

Aracila quietly led the maids out of the room, walking forward with an expressionless face.

The Grand Madam was proving to be even more difficult than she had anticipated, and for Aracila, that was actually a relief. The more the Grand Madam ran rampant, the more sympathy Aracila would garner from others.

‘The more humiliation she forces on me, the tighter the noose around her own neck will become.’

Of course, reaching that point would be a long and grueling ordeal, but the harsher the trial, the more certain the outcome. That was fine by her.

At the Entrance of the Eastern Etar Mountains

Rows of tents bearing the insignia of the Crimson Hawk stood in formation. Knights, clad in uniforms overlaid with armor, moved busily between the mountain and their encampments.

Inside the largest tent, Demian was reading reports submitted by his subordinates when a visitor arrived.

“Commander, a letter has arrived.”

Isaac, for some reason, presented the letter with an unusually respectful demeanor. Without looking up from the report, Demian asked curtly,

“Is it from the imperial family?”

“No, sir. It’s from your wife.”

“…My wife?”

“Yes, from Madam Vandermeer.”

At the mention of Aracila’s letter, Demian’s eyes immediately lifted from the report. His golden irises filled with curiosity.

She sent me a letter? Why?

Was this part of maintaining their act as a devoted couple, or had something happened while he was away?

Without hesitation, Demian tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. The opening line read:

“Demian, you must read this letter alone.”

He turned away from Isaac, who was peeking over with interest, and began reading in private.

“The Grand Madam of Vandermeer has arrived. She claims she’s here to educate me in household matters, but she’s clearly settling in to stay. I don’t think she plans to leave until you return. So, the moment you arrive, you’ll have to see your grandmother.”

Demian’s brows furrowed at the unpleasant news. Clearly, this letter wasn’t just for show—something had indeed happened.

“She really is the same as ever.”

As he continued reading, his eyes halted on a small doodle in the middle of the letter.

Between the words “She really is” and “the same”, a crudely drawn puppy sat scrawled on the paper.

Demian slowly blinked.

“Really… like a dog?”

“…Excuse me, sir?”

Isaac, who had been hovering around in curiosity, flinched, thinking Demian was speaking to him.

Immediately, he straightened his posture and shouted,

“My apologies! I will correct myself and behave in a manner that is not dog-like!”

Demian, too preoccupied with the letter, barely acknowledged him. A chuckle escaped his lips.

Just how dog-like must she be acting for Aracila to send something like this?

But then, his expression darkened. He knew his grandmother’s nature all too well. Under the guise of education, she was undoubtedly tormenting Aracila in the cruelest ways possible.

‘She did the same to me, after all.’

The Grand Madam’s so-called discipline was just as vicious as the late Duchess’s—perhaps even worse. She had seen Demian as a threat long before he had even come of age.

His face grew even graver.

Maybe I should have left Colin behind. Surely, she wouldn’t dare lay hands on Aracila… would she?

As Demian’s expression continued to darken, Isaac, sensing the shift in mood, cautiously edged backward. There was nothing to gain from standing too close when his commander was in this state.

Whether his subordinate slipped away or not, Demian continued reading.

*”In any case, because of this, you’ll be returning earlier than planned. So pack your things in advance. Don’t be late—I’m already enduring a lot, and I have no intention of waiting even a moment longer.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Returning earlier than planned?

Demian’s frown deepened. He felt sorry for Aracila, but tracking the movement of the monsters was a slow process. At this rate, they would need the full fifteen days.

So why was she so certain he’d be back sooner?

Lowering his gaze, he noticed another small doodle squeezed between the lines of the postscript.

“P.S. He really does look like one.”

What had she drawn?

It vaguely resembled a person…

“Ah, a beggar?”

Was she saying he looked like a beggar and should hurry back?

Demian couldn’t hold back a low laugh.

How many wives in the world would send their husbands such a letter while they were away on duty?

‘She’s just so… her.’

Shaking his head with amusement, Demian carefully folded the letter and tucked it into his coat.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───