The Peaceful Life of a Maid Who Hides Her Power and Enjoys It

<Episode 57>

 

The old man fell on the sofa a beat faster than I’d expected. 

I reflexively rushed to his side and checked his breathing. Fortunately, he was not dead.

 

‘Yes, he’s not dead….’

 

He was keeping a close eye on us. He was calm. He stood in the same spot where he’d first set foot in the reception room, with his arms crossed.

 

If there was anything different from before, it was the never-before-seen, cool golden gaze fixed on one spot on the floor. A slight sneer at the corner of his mouth. Long shadowed eyes. The pointed tip of his nose pointed high. Eyebrows that didn’t twitch at all at this sight. All these elements combined to form his expression.

 

I noticed it at once.

 

“Hm.”

Rue was thinking about whether to kill the old man who’d discovered his identity.

‘No, you can’t.’

 

I hurriedly laid the old man and Lenya on the sofa and blocked them from him.

“Stay right there, no access allowed.”

 

Rue, raising an eyebrow, looked at me and asked,

 “Why?” 

“He’s the one who pays us. You can’t threaten him.” 

Rue let out a low laugh, his face not particularly joyful.

 

“Oh my… does that mean Miss Daisy is willing to work under trash as long as she gets paid?”

Trash? Was he talking about this old man?

 

The piercing gaze that was fixed on me was withdrawn. Rue soon acted as if nothing had happened and headed towards the desk by the window.

 

 A desk in the reception room. It was an unconventional combination, but it wouldn’t be strange if there were hardly any guests visiting the mansion. The bookshelf by its side was full of small photo frames. Some of them contained familiar faces, which made it hard for me to look away. Rue rummaged through the desk and drawers filled with papers, confidently lifting his lips.

 

“Miss Daisy.”

“…….”

“No one can recognize my face in the Empire of Penrotta.”

 

“…….”

“If they did, their reaction would be nothing like this. If you remember the attitude of the congregation to me on the airship…”

The way the congregation treated Rue…

 

“Something weird like licking your feet?”

“Yes. Therefore, there is only one attitude Miss Daisy should keep in mind to take when she meets someone who knows me or my face here.”

“Kill them?”

 

Rue, who was looking through the books with indifferent eyes, smiled brightly at me. It was an affirmative smile.

Considering the difficulty and cryptic nature of the warning, I couldn’t help but recall the uniqueness of Rue’s identity, leaving me speechless. 

‘Calepa.’

 

One of the only three leaders of Rogue.

 

Some of the members of the Rogue (the Southern Rogue) who moved southward through the Northern Deus Mountains joined the army of the Great Wizard Mephisto.

Mephisto’s army was completely uprooted in the 10-year Magic War, and all their temples were burned down.

 

Since then, Rogue has been treated as a controversial foreign religion in the Penrotta Empire, nothing more, nothing less, and has been quickly forgotten.

 

Therefore, there was no one in the empire who could recognize the face of the Calepa.

Even if they existed; instead of fainting from fear at his sight, they would prostrate in submission, probably even going as far as to lick his feet.

 

If there were beings who denied these two possibilities, they would probably be… 

‘The remnants of Mephisto’s army.’ 

In an instant, it felt as if my heart dropped to the ground. 

‘So, these two… were part of Mephisto’s army?’ 

Flashes of the past 14 years flickered before my eyes. The places trampled under the feet of demons. The underground chambers of the temple, stained red with repeated biological experiments. The fallen comrade who asked me to send letters to his family… who told me not to wait any longer… who’d died.

 

A boy who volunteered for the front lines to protect his sibling. 

It felt like my breath was being choked. Overwhelming emotions surged up within me, to the point where I myself found it perplexing. My heart rate quickened, and my head spun around in circles.

 

“Daisy.”

 

I raised my head. I could feel Rue’s shadow covering my shoulders and his gentle pats on my back.

“Should I kill them?”

 

I looked up at Rue, gasping for air as he asked me so.

“Or should I spare them?”

The whispering voice contained neither anger nor pity. It was dry, as if asking about someone’s well-being.

 

“If you don’t know the answer, leave this mansion and board a carriage heading to Westwinterre station. Wait for the train that arrives there until exactly three o’clock. By then, I will have finished my task and will be by your side. After that, we will return to Midwinterre.” 

“……”

“Shall we do that?”

 

Rue’s affectionate consideration repeatedly added a darker layer to my already ink-stained rationality. …No, it wasn’t just an additional layer, but rather a torch that illuminated. 

 

“Would it put your heart at ease if we do that? for now, and in the future, forever.” 

 

Now, and in the future, forever.

 

“No, I won’t be satisfied.”

 

I couldn’t allow myself to be swayed by the traces left by Mephisto for such a long time.

I turned my head. On the old bookshelf next to the desk, large and small picture frames were attached to each other like barnacles. Among them, two faces could be seen in the largest frame.

 

Yes, that frame.

 

Since entering the reception room, I had never been able to completely sever my attention from that particular frame. 

A young man and a boy. The boy resembled the older man in his youth, and the young man was undoubtedly…

“I have more important matters to attend to.”

 

Dian Cecht. 

 

The young man in the frame had the exact same face as Dian Cecht, from what I’d seen in the data provided by the assassin.

 

‘Whoo.’

 

I exhaled very deeply.

Breathing slowly seemed to fill my mind with fresh air. Reason had pushed the emotions aside and taken its place.

 

‘Let’s get a hold of ourselves. These two being part of Mephisto’s army was only speculation for now.’

 

The maid’s truest duty. To shorten the time spent on chores through logical thinking.

“Open your eyes, old man.”

 

I turned around and looked at the old man lying on the sofa.

“If you don’t wake up right now,”

 

In the end, the answer will have to be heard through their stories.

Whether it be their relationship with Mephisto’s army, Dian Cecht, or with the Weatherwoods family.

 

“The Calepa will personally wake you up like a princess, with a kiss.”

The old man’s eyes flashed open.

 

* * *

 

I slowly released my grip on the frame I was holding. The fingerprints engraved on the young man’s face were as vivid as a painting. I raised my hand and gently wiped away the faint smudges, revealing the man’s face clearly once again. 

 

Dian Cecht was a lean man. 

‘Moreover, unexpectedly beautiful. If he were a bit shorter, one could mistake him for a woman.’

 

With long hair covering his chest and a sharp jawline that left an impression, he gently embraced the young boy standing in front of him. 

Even in the black and white photograph, Dian Cecht’s pale complexion stood out. His dark and blurry under-eye area made it seem like he could be mistaken for a corpse if he was found lying on the ground with closed eyes. 

 

‘So, the old man was related to Dian Cecht. Then… could it be that this boy brought the device we had at the Weatherwoods family?’

 

I wanted to ask how he was related to Dian Cecht, but I had to be careful around an old man who’d just woken up.

 

I wasn’t the Calepa, so I should take it slow.

 

“So, you mean…” I placed the frame back on the shelf and looked at the old man. The old man’s complexion was not any more impressive than Dian Cecht in the photo. 

 

The old man, who had fainted and then regained consciousness, was named Malcolm. I summarized the brief story I had heard from him and asked him again. 

 

“Grandpa, you’re not part of Mephisto’s army, but rather opposed to their evil deeds…”

 “Their army, you say! To think that you would assume, I, Malcolm, am on the same side as those bastards! I’d rather bite my tongue and die!”

Cough, cough. The elderly man, Malcolm, spat out a dry cough, his face turning red as he shouted.

 

 “Those traitors of the world! Heretics who go against the teachings of the church! It’s a shame that I couldn’t tear their limbs apart with my own hands! They are demons. They dragged away the old, women, and young children, sacrificing them as offerings. They were sacrifices for filthy desires! Desires that can never be fulfilled, even in death!”

 

“Alright, alright. Calm down. You have spit on your face.”

“Ahem, sorry. Whenever I talk about those damn bastards, I get riled up…”

Quietly approaching, Lenya handed a glass of water to the gasping old man.

 

However, Malcolm refused the glass of water offered to him and descended the sofa, crawling towards Rue.

“I humbly ask for forgiveness, Calepa. While personally receiving the Calepa, whom I have only heard of, I unknowingly committed a great offense. If you permit, I would like to offer my greetings, albeit belatedly.”

 

Rue, as before, simply glanced through the ledger without saying a word. Malicops seemed to interpret Rue’s silence as an affirmation. 

 

“Thank you for granting your permission, Calepa.”

 Then, just like the other followers of Rogue I’d met earlier, he began a long and elaborate greeting in the language of the northern continent.

 

How emotional the meeting with Rue must have been to him, for he sometimes trembled at the end of his words. I wondered if Malcolm knew Rue had intended to hurt him.

 

‘By the way, I didn’t know that the elder of the Weatherwoods family was a believer of Rogue.’

“What? Mephisto’s army? Are you asking me if I’m in cahoots with those damn mongrels? Hah. Unbelievable. Goodness gracious! I’ve dedicated over 15 years of my life to burying those vile scum in the ground!”

 

 At first, I thought it was a lie. But as I listened to him explain in detail where he investigated the Southern Rogue Church and how he gathered information, it was hard to deny…

---

I was crying at Daisy’s internal turmoil. I’m pretty certain the boy that volunteered to save his sibling was referring to Andert. He’d perished while he was defending Queen Island, and that hurts even more. even if not, the situation was heartbreaking nonethelesss.