The Lady You Want to Kill 2: Maid Lily (2/39)

2. Maid Lily

The incident in the dining room came to an abrupt conclusion with the sudden arrival of the Duchess. She summoned a healing priest to treat Beatrice, while Maya, her personal maid, was punished with 100 lashes from a disciplinary whip and reassigned to deal with the household’s filth and waste.

Afterward, Agatha visited Beatrice’s room, located in the annex. There, she discovered the burned wardrobe and the dead rat that had been left untouched until then.

It was the first time in her entire life that Beatrice had seen the Duchess explode in such fury, reprimanding all the annex staff, including the butler and the head maid.

What on earth was going on? For some inexplicable reason, Agatha even went so far as to relocate Beatrice’s room to the main mansion.

And so, Beatrice found herself sitting in her new room, utterly bewildered. While the annex had been quite decent, it couldn’t compare to the splendor of the main mansion. Everything in the room—furniture, wallpaper, flooring, and even the smallest decorative items—was of an entirely different caliber.

The staff of the main mansion, perhaps aware of how their counterparts in the annex had been harshly dealt with by the Duchess, treated Beatrice with impeccable courtesy.

Sipping the tea brewed by Laura, the maid temporarily assigned to her, Beatrice blinked slowly, lost in thought. She wasn’t entirely sure how things had unfolded to this point, but with Maya out of the picture sooner than expected, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring “that child” closer to her side a little earlier than planned.

* * *

As the month passed, Beatrice gradually adapted to life in the main mansion. While she had never entered the main mansion this early in previous lives, her past experiences living there made it relatively comfortable.

Still, her feelings were complicated. Typically, she only moved into the main mansion after her entire family was dead or had been driven out by her own hand. It wasn’t that she held any particular ill will toward them.

She simply needed the title to obtain what she wanted. Being part of an old family, the loyalty of its vassals was formidable, and dealing with them had always been a challenge.

Although she could have chosen to win them over, Beatrice despised complex procedures and failed to understand them. Instead, she buried most of the dissenters who opposed her becoming the head of the family.

After that ordeal, the Duchess began visiting Beatrice regularly, though not frequently. They would share a meal or tea once a week.

Even Calrex and Felix, uncharacteristically, started dropping by to ask about her well-being, though they never explained their sudden change in attitude. To Beatrice, the entire situation remained a mystery.

Looking back, she had never been close to her family in any of her past lives. They had always lived as if the other didn’t exist, each pretending not to notice the other. Eventually, she would either leave for another place or force them out through cruel means.

In the past, when she unjustly seized the title, most of the vassals turned their backs on her. Those who remained to plead for the survival of the family were mostly nuisances, and she dealt with them by killing them as well. It was only natural that her funds and information networks became limited as a result.

Perhaps this time, she thought, it might be worth trying to maintain good relations with her family. She set her empty teacup down and gazed out the window.

Although the weather was still cold, she could feel the faint stirrings of spring. The sky was clear, and the once withered branches seemed to carry a subtle vitality. Soon, they would sprout new buds.

Her gaze fell on the flowering tree visible from the front of the mansion. Tilting her head, her long black hair cascaded down from her shoulders to her arms.

Hadn’t she burned that tree down in a fit of disgust in the past? Immersed in such trivial memories, a soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“My lady, the Duchess has arrived.”

“Let her in.”

It had been about a week since her last visit, so it seemed about time. As Beatrice granted permission, a maid opened the door, and Agatha entered.

With her warm, sandy-colored hair and blue eyes, the Duchess wore a soft yellow dress that exuded warmth. When Beatrice moved to stand, Agatha gestured lightly for her to remain seated.

“Have I come by unexpectedly?”

“No, I was just idly sitting with nothing to do.”

“I see. I wanted to discuss your debutante ball, which is why I came by.”

“My debutante ball?”

Beatrice replied slowly, her gaze curious and slightly puzzled. Was she really thinking about something like that?

While Beatrice had noticed the Duchess’s more lenient attitude toward her compared to the past, she hadn’t expected her to go so far as to consider such details. In her previous lives, debutante balls were typically treated as mere formalities to send her off in marriage.

This was the first time anyone had approached the topic so cautiously, and Beatrice lowered her gaze for a moment. Perhaps misinterpreting the gesture, Agatha continued in an even gentler tone.

“It’s a bit late, but not too late. I feel guilty for not paying more attention to you until now.”

“There’s no need for you to feel guilty, Duchess. But I must admit, I am a little surprised. Why are you suddenly being so kind to me?”

Though she had been avoiding conflict by going along with the flow, Beatrice decided it was time to address the matter directly. This time, she wanted to maintain good relations with her family and make the most of it.

Relying on sudden goodwill that might disappear at any moment was too dangerous. It was better to understand the situation thoroughly. Resolving to get to the bottom of things, Beatrice looked at Agatha with a cool, composed expression.

“How could someone like me refuse your kindness? I accept it, of course, but I still don’t understand. What brought about this sudden change of heart?”

Agatha bit her lower lip.

After bringing Beatrice to the main mansion, Agatha had been receiving reports on her daughter’s daily life. It became clear that Beatrice was far from normal.

Beatrice woke at nine in the morning, ate breakfast, and then spent the entire day cooped up in her room, doing nothing. If a maid asked to bring her tea, she would allow it. If they offered her books, she accepted them. Yet she showed no initiative to do anything on her own.

She even refused assistance with bathing. Once, after spending hours in the bathroom, a worried maid checked on her, only to find Beatrice sitting in the tub of cold water, staring blankly into space.

The maids were deeply unsettled by her strange behavior. Those among the staff who knew a little about her circumstances whispered among themselves.

“With a life like that, it’s no wonder the young lady is falling apart.”

Recalling the confessions of the annex staff after they were punished, Agatha felt as if she might faint.

“I realized my mistakes,” Agatha said after a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me the staff was abusing you?”

“Ah.”

Only then did Beatrice realize the reason for the sudden change in everyone’s attitude. Though she wasn’t sure how, it seemed the family had discovered she was being tormented by the staff.

Well, that’s just how they were. They hated her, but they weren’t fundamentally terrible people. It made sense why the vassals of the family were so devoted to them and tried to protect them.

“I didn’t really feel the need to bring it up,” Beatrice replied, her voice cracking like a frozen winter ground.

In truth, she felt little emotion regarding the abuse. The glass shards placed under her blanket or the needles hidden inside her shoes posed no real threat to her.

Although her internal flesh was more like that of ordinary people—she did injure her tongue occasionally—it didn’t change the fact that her body wasn’t susceptible to damage from such things.

Still, she chose not to mention that the torment didn’t bother her. If the family’s newfound interest in her was because of it, she might as well take advantage of the situation.

Of course, maintaining their concern required effort, and the occasional lie was part of that effort.

“Considering I’m already a nuisance to the family, I thought making a fuss about it would only make you hate me more,” she added.

She truly didn’t care whether they hated her.

“I just wanted to keep living here.”

As she spoke, she thought to herself. Human sympathy doesn’t last long. There had to be something stronger, something more compelling to hold their attention.

“I’m used to being hated. I didn’t want to bother you or my brothers by making a fuss.”

Ah, yes. That should do.

“I know you’ve hated me ever since Father’s funeral.”

Beatrice struggled to recall that funeral, which barely surfaced in her memory.

“I was so overwhelmed at the time, so much that I couldn’t process anything. …I just went home and cried a lot.”

A lie. She hadn’t cried at all. But wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to play the role of the misunderstood and innocent youngest daughter?

Raising her gaze from the teacup she’d been staring at, Beatrice looked directly at Agatha. The Duchess’s face was contorted as if she might cry. Ah, it seemed to be working.

Beatrice gave a clumsy smile, like someone who wasn’t used to smiling.

“That’s why I’m happy as it is now. You don’t need to trouble yourself any further.”

How should she finish this? Something more poignant, perhaps.

“Just… please let me stay here.”

Pitifully. That should be a good ending.

Beatrice noticed Agatha’s expression sink into profound sorrow. Pretending to be an innocent, unfortunate youngest daughter, she let a single tear fall.

Though she had never acted before, this was a decent start. Living a life of fabricated kindness wasn’t so bad. After all, her life had always been a tiresome and dull affair. Why not give this approach a try?

A long silence fell between them. Beatrice had no intention of speaking further, while Agatha seemed lost in thought, grappling with what to say next.

It took Agatha quite some time to sort through the guilt crashing over her like a wave. She realized that much of her disdain for Beatrice stemmed from a misunderstanding.

Of course, her feelings of rejection and unease toward Beatrice had begun long before the funeral. But past events tend to fade and blur over time. Agatha couldn’t clearly recall her previous discomfort or unease, and with guilt now overtaking her, she abandoned those thoughts entirely.

“You may… stay here. Of course, you can.”

Fortunately, the Duchess seemed to have fallen for her clumsy act. As expected, she wasn’t a bad person—just unlike Beatrice.

Satisfied with her assessment, Beatrice carefully broached the topic that had come to mind when Agatha mentioned the debutante ball.

“I’m grateful that you’re personally organizing my debutante ball, Duchess. However, I’m a bit concerned about debuting without any acquaintances. Would it be too greedy of me to ask for help with that?”

Typically, young noblewomen formed friendships with their peers through their families’ connections. In exceptional cases, they might even debut together.

It wasn’t a glaring issue to lack such acquaintances, but for someone like Beatrice—who was estranged from her family—the prospect of entering the grand social sphere alone seemed daunting. Or so Agatha assumed, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right. I didn’t think that far ahead. Is there a family you have in mind?”

“No, I don’t keep up with the outside world enough to suggest anyone,” Beatrice replied.

Agatha immediately thought of a suitable candidate. And it was precisely what Beatrice had hoped for.

“What about the Buildrander Count’s family?”

The Buildrander family had been long-standing vassals of the ducal household. They were even considered a potential marriage partner for Calrex, the current Duke.

The family had a son around Felix’s age and a daughter close to Beatrice’s. They had a decent reputation, and the siblings were known to be well-regarded in high society.

“I think the Buildrander family would be a good choice. Their relationship with the duchy reassures me,” Beatrice said.

“Yes, their daughter is well-established in society, so she could be helpful to you. I’ll reach out to them,” Agatha agreed.

“Thank you, Duchess.”

Agatha hesitated, as though she wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it. Beatrice’s use of “Duchess” still stung a little, but Agatha felt it was too late to ask her to use “Mother.”

Embarrassed by her past neglect, Agatha decided to earn Beatrice’s trust gradually and left the room.

As the Duchess departed, Beatrice sat back on the sofa and began to think. It was early February, and the Imperial debutante ball was scheduled for May.

While there was enough time to familiarize herself with the Buildrander family, Beatrice’s interest wasn’t in the daughter of the family.

Originally, she would have had to wait another two years to meet “that child” naturally. But Beatrice already knew what the child wanted. Rather than wasting two years, she intended to bring her closer by fulfilling her desires quickly.

She needed someone to act as her hands and feet while she operated discreetly, and no one was more suitable than her.

“Lily.”

This time, Beatrice would approach her first. Though she wasn’t one to form attachments easily, she found herself oddly reflective. It had been a long time since she had seen her.

* * *

After parting with Beatrice, the Duchess immediately sent a letter to Countess Florianne Buildrander, the young lady of the Buildrander family. In it, she asked if Florianne could befriend her youngest daughter, who was preparing for a delayed debutante ball, and expressed her hope for a close relationship between the two families.

Since it was none other than Duchess Agatha herself who sent the letter, the reply arrived in less than a day. Unsurprisingly, the response was a positive one.

Florianne’s letter, written in an elegant and intricate script, stated that it would be the family’s greatest honor. She also expressed her willingness to visit the Ember household at any time if the Duchess would set a date.

Although Agatha had intended to invite Florianne to the Ember mansion to accommodate her daughter’s lack of experience outside, Beatrice shook her head at the suggestion.

Instead, Beatrice expressed a desire to visit the Buildrander estate herself, reasoning that she’d spent too much time confined at home and wanted to experience the outside world. Agatha, clutching her handkerchief, relented and agreed.

The date for Beatrice’s visit to the Buildrander estate was set for just one week from the exchange of letters. That week passed in a whirlwind.

With Beatrice owning very few dresses, a tailor was urgently summoned to create six outfits. A jeweler was also called to the house, and they prepared twelve sets of accessories. Beatrice selected about eight pairs of shoes as well.

When the Duchess suggested they focus on the most urgent outfits for now and take their time with the rest, Beatrice nodded in agreement. Although she wasn’t particularly interested in dresses or accessories, she had grown accustomed to such things over the course of her many lives.

In aristocratic society, a noblewoman who didn’t tend to her appearance was considered lazy and rude. In one of her past lives, when she lived in a distant rural estate, she had enjoyed a rare sense of freedom from such expectations.

Dressed immaculately, Beatrice stepped past the mansion’s grand gates. Standing before the largest carriage of the ducal family, decorated in brown and green, she took the hand of a knight who offered his escort.

Once inside, Laura, the temporary maid assigned to her, followed. Laura, originally the Duchess’s maid, was tasked with serving Beatrice until a new personal maid could be appointed.

After the coachman calmed the restless horses and the carriage began to move, Beatrice straightened her back and lowered her gaze. This was her silent signal that she wished to think quietly, a cue not to be disturbed.

Laura, quick to pick up on Beatrice’s habits despite her short time with her, sat opposite and remained quiet.

Lily was a maid working for the Buildrander family. She was likely sixteen years old by now, probably sharpening her metaphorical blade in secret. Lily was one of the many victims who bore a grudge against the current Count, Heliette Buildrander.

Though the Count was well-regarded among nobles, his reputation among his staff was abysmal—so much so that it scraped the ground. His son, Gallet Buildrander, was sharp enough to manage the rumors to some extent, but whispers always found a way to spread unnoticed.

Lily was the daughter of one of the Count’s victims. To exact revenge, she infiltrated the Buildrander estate as a maid. After enduring five long years, she eventually succeeded in killing the Count and escaped.

While fleeing the Count’s knights and the capital’s guards, Lily was found by Beatrice, and their fateful relationship began. Recalling their first meeting, where Lily had resembled a filthy street rat, Beatrice couldn’t help but smile faintly.

“I look forward to meeting her again,” she murmured.

“Are you that excited to meet your first friend?” Laura asked, seizing the chance to break the silence.

“Yes.”

When Beatrice finally spoke, Laura responded eagerly, as though she had been waiting for a chance to converse. It made sense—being stuck in a carriage with an unfamiliar lady without saying a word must have been stifling.

Beatrice pulled back the curtain covering the carriage window and looked outside. The pristine white roads of the capital gleamed under the winter sunlight, so bright it was almost blinding.

* * *

“Is it true that the young lady from the Ember family will be visiting soon?”

“Yes, that’s correct, Lady Florianne.”

“I was so taken aback when I first received the letter.”

Florianne Buildrander recalled the Duchess’s letter. The Ember and Buildrander families had maintained a strong relationship for generations. As a result, Florianne, who had interacted with the ducal family since childhood, knew both Calrex, the current Duke, and Felix, his younger brother, quite well. However, she had never once seen their youngest daughter, Beatrice.

The Ember family was often regarded as the most powerful family in the Empire after the imperial family. In fact, one of the previous dukes had married a member of the royal family, which meant the family was treated almost as an extension of the royals.

And yet, the illegitimate daughter remained the sole stain on this illustrious lineage.

Florianne had heard rumors. Beatrice was the child brought back by the missing Duke, a girl who was strangely never seen in public. After the former Duke’s death, whispers suggested she had become a disgrace the family didn’t know what to do with.

Tl/N: Do you guys want me to upload advance chaps on Kofi or Patreon? cuz I upload 5 chaps after every week means I take a break after every release 1 week at most so this won’t have regular updates.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

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