Chapter 12
“Karen, could you wash the blanket? I feel sticky from sweating.”
I handed the blanket I had folded earlier to Karen, who had brought up breakfast. Of course, that wasn’t the end of it.
“I think the curtains are dusty. Can you wash them again?”
“Oh no, I spilled tea on the tablecloth.”
“I didn’t notice before, but some tea splashed on my clothes too.”
And so, with various excuses, I kept coming up with laundry to send out. Naturally, I made sure a different maid came each time.
One by one, all the fabric items in my room began to disappear. Not just the pillows and canopy, but even the carpet—which I wasn’t even sure could be washed—was sent to the laundry room. The only things left were the cushions and handkerchiefs.
“If Tara still doesn’t show up after all this…”
There was no helping it. Even if it seemed like I was being harsh on the staff, I’d have to try something else again. Thinking that, I dipped a handkerchief into the onion stew that had come up for lunch.
“Milady, did the meal suit your taste?”
“Yes. Was the chef’s name Ena? Very talented. But, my handkerchief got dirty.”
I spread out the handkerchief, now stained red, for her to see.
“It’s a favorite of mine, so I’d appreciate it if it could be washed quickly.”
“Understood.”
Finally, a small sigh escaped from Karen. After sending out laundry six times just this morning, anyone would be annoyed. I even felt a bit of affection seeing that very human reaction.
“I’ll send up the one in charge of laundry.”
At the Tower that functioned like a factory, the maids only did their assigned tasks. No matter how simple something was, they never crossed into someone else’s duties—it seemed to be a strict rule they followed. I was sitting there thinking about that when—
“Milady, may I come in?”
I immediately recognized Tara’s voice. It felt like winning the lottery. The girl entered the room hesitantly.
“I heard you had a task for me.”
“Yes. First, would you sit down for a moment?”
“S-Sit down? Me?”
I pointed to the chair across the table as if it were obvious I was talking to her. Tara hesitated, but finally sat when I nodded again.
“We met during dinner the other day. Do you remember?”
“You’re… Lady Selinia, right?”
“That’s right. Then do you know my family name?”
“Hyren… Hyren.”
It was a question with intent. I wanted her to associate ‘Hyren’ with the Count family from the western district of Bynan—and the city nearby.
I tilted my head slightly so she could see my face better. But as before, Tara showed no reaction.
“Well, I haven’t been to the herb shop that many times myself.”
I held back my urge to dive into the real topic and instead asked some everyday questions.
“How’s life here? Is the maid work bearable?”
“Yes.”
“Are you getting paid properly?”
“Yes.”
Her replies were brief. Unlike me, she didn’t seem interested in this conversation. It felt like she was only answering because she had to. Still, I wasn’t going to give up so easily.
“Do you get any time off?”
“No.”
“But it seems some maids can leave the Tower?”
“O-Only the senior maids are allowed to.”
The term “senior maids” reminded me of Karen and Merilyn. I’d always thought it strange that they could go out as they pleased, but it seemed that privilege was only for some.
“So, Tara, have you never left the Tower since coming here?”
“No.”
Her voice sounded slightly weary.
“I figured as much.”
If Tara had been able to leave, there’s no way she wouldn’t have visited the herb shop by now. There also wouldn’t have been so many disappearances.
“And there’s no way the senior maids would ever help Tara.”
At that moment, Tara looked visibly uneasy. Her eyes darted around the room before settling on the grandfather clock.
“Why? Are you in a hurry?”
“W-Well, I’m worried they’ll say I took too long just to pick up laundry…”
It seemed only the senior maids were confident and bold in the Tower.
“Karen and the other maids she introduced must have been senior maids too.”
In the end, this was all orchestrated by Eon. I suppressed my misplaced anger and handed the soiled handkerchief to Tara. Just then, someone knocked on the door.
“Lady Selinia, it’s Merilyn~”
Tara instantly turned pale.
“Is one of the laundry maids still in Lady Selinia’s room~?”
Her tone was still silly and playful, but it must have sounded like thunder to Tara.
“If I send her out like this, she’ll get scolded badly.”
She must’ve had a bad experience to react like a frightened kitten. I called Merilyn inside for now.
“Yes, come in.”
Merilyn greeted me politely, then immediately turned to Tara. I expected a harsh glare, but her expression was surprisingly gentle.
“What’s the matter?”
“I was worried Tara might’ve done something rude to you~”
“She just warned me to be careful with a valuable handkerchief.”
“Ohh, I see~”
Despite her words of agreement, Merilyn’s large eyes scanned the room thoroughly. It was almost as if she could read the remnants of our conversation in the air. Feeling uneasy, I prompted Tara.
“What are you doing? Hurry along. And don’t dry the handkerchief separately—bring it back right away. I’ll hang it by the window myself.”
Of course, it was so I could call her back later.
Not long after, Tara returned with the freshly cleaned handkerchief. I had worried that Merilyn wouldn’t let her come, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. Now, the only remaining task was to let Tara know that I was on her side.
But even being alone didn’t mean I could break the Tower’s rules. As long as Eon could read my thoughts, it wasn’t enough just to avoid his eyes.
“How can I fool Eon and still say what I need to say to Tara?”
I had a plan, but wasn’t sure if it would work. I took a deep breath and pulled a book from the shelf.
“Do you like novels?”
Caught off guard, Tara didn’t even try to respond—she just nodded slightly.
“Then you must know the stories of Sir Rudis?”
“I-I couldn’t read all the words well… but I know the stories.”
“What about ‘43rd Street in Bynan’?”
That was the title I had left as a hint for Rudis.
“I know it.”
“I see. It’s a story with a lot of meaning for people in situations like ours. Don’t you think?”
Tara blinked. She seemed to be recalling the story.
“It’s about how the Night Fairy takes all the boys in the village through the fairy’s door on 43rd Street to find the one she made a promise to, right?”
“You know it well. Of course, we’re not boys, and there are no fairies in the Tower.”
Now Tara seemed to understand the metaphor I was making. A flicker of tension lit up her pale green eyes.
“You didn’t know there was a side story, did you? It’s not about the boy the Night Fairy took—it’s about another boy. Want to hear it?”
I cleared my throat and began,
“There was once a herb shop on 43rd Street. It was the biggest, most successful store in the city. And the youngest son of the house, cheerful and hardworking, helped with the business.”
At the word “herb shop,” Tara’s eyes widened. Yes. This was her story. I recited her past as if it were part of a novel.
It was a trick I’d come up with to avoid breaking the rule about speaking of life before the Tower. No matter how hard I thought about it, this was the only way to tell her that I knew who she was—and that I wanted her to know it.
“One summer night, the incident happened. The boy who had gone out on an errand vanished without a trace. Naturally, the family searched far and wide…”
