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

For A, thank you for the Ko-fi ⁠♡

<Episode 91>

 

That night.

 

I was wandering around the palace.

It wasn’t aimless wandering, though. I was preparing my body for the entrance examination that would take place the next day.

 

‘I feel like swinging a sword while I have the opportunity to be in such a spacious place.’

 

In the palace however, no one aside from the king and his guards could carry weapons. So, at best, all I could do was running or stretching, the only things I could focus on.

 

“Hey there! The woman in front of the rose vine. Who are you?”

 

“Stop it, brother. She’s a guest of His Majesty the King. I’ve seen her walking around in the garden for the past three hours, so let’s just pass by quietly.”

“Three hours? Are you sure it’s the same person?”

“Hmm.”

 

It is indeed the same person, you guys.

 

‘I walked too long.’

A brown-haired woman walking around for three hours late at night was probably perceived as suspicious.

 

Was it because I smelled the piercing scent of Roses for too long? At some point, even my sense of smell seemed to have become paralyzed.

 

Walking seemed to blow away the mountain of thoughts that had been created in me after today’s events.

 

I was about to turn and head back when I noticed a man standing in front of the rose vine.

 

That noticeably upright posture…

“Desherro?”

 

Whether he heard my voice or not, the man turned to look at me.

To be honest, I felt a bit awkward around Desherro.

 

It had been awkward right after our reunion at the noble council meeting, but after exploring Count Serenier’s gallery today, I became twice as uncomfortable.

 

It was because the sharp edge of guilt, piercing my conscience, became even sharper.

 

‘Moreover, he saw me wielding a sword.’

 

When I burned Lord Medeis’ head, I did use my right hand consciously, taking consideration of Desherro’s presence. But it was still uncomfortable.

‘What should I do if he asks why a maid can wield a sword?’

 

Should I say that I’m a hidden weapon of the Weatherwoods? Or that it’s just a hobby for physical training?

 

I didn’t have the courage to approach him, so I stopped at a distance and he asked.

 

“Why are you standing there absentmindedly?”

“It’s nothing important.”

 

Saying that, I tried to ignore him and continue on my way.

But why bother passing by without a care?

As I glanced at him, I noticed a drop of red blood clinging to the tip of his index finger.

 

No, even if it’s just a small wound, it’s a bit too heartless to ignore it and walk away like that.

 

“Did you get pricked by a thorn?”

“Yes. It’s dark, so…”

Why was he making excuses?

 

“Well, it’s really no big deal.”

If luck isn’t on your side, even a small spark can spread into a big fire.

Sigh, there’s no helping it. Was it time to use the <Portable Emergency Kit for Hardworking Maids>?

 

An emergency kit is essential for any journey.

Fortunately, I had purchased it in advance during the department store sale period in preparation for this day. (I bought it two days before departure.)

 

The problem was that it was in my room.

“Follow me.”

“What?”

“Follow me.”

 

Even though he looked puzzled, Desherro followed me steadily. We went up the stairs and reached the bedroom door.

 

Standing tall in front of the wide-open door, Desherro asked with a slightly confused look, 

“Miss Daisy, what are your intentions for bringing me into your room?”

“I have great intentions. To treat your finger.”

 

“It’s not a wound that requires treatment.”

“Still, please come in. I’ll apply the ointment and send you off right away. There’s no ulterior motive.”

 

So just come in gracefully.

If not now, it felt like I’d never get to use the <Portable Emergency Kit for Hardworking Maids.>

 

Perhaps the slight warning in my gaze reached Desherro, but he cautiously stepped inside.

With a triumphant feeling, I opened the metal box. Inside, I saw a sparkling new tube of healing ointment and a fresh pack of adhesive bandages.

 

“Give me your hand.”

A large, rough hand came into view. The skin underneath the nails was torn, still not healed.

I grabbed his wrist, intending to immobilize it for finger disinfection.

 

“…I have one question.”

His outstretched hand remained frozen in place.

“Are you really Daisy Fager?”

 

Even with great force, it wouldn’t budge.

In that moment, I forgot to breathe, my gaze fixated only on Desherro’s rough palm.

 

I was afraid to meet his eyes.

“So suddenly?”

 

To ask something like that randomly like this?

As my heartbeats quickened and my breath began to cut short, I quickly regained my composure and lifted my head.

 

I couldn’t show hesitation in a situation like this.

With the most annoyed expression I could muster, I replied.

 

“I am a maid.”

“That much is evident. What I’m asking is… whether your real name is Bertie Lucian or Daisy Fager?”

 

…Bertie Lucian? How does this guy know my friend’s name?

…..

 

Ah.

 

“Duke Zenail has been responsible for the security of the southern archipelago of the Empire for the past four years. Rarely have survivors appeared on the islands after the war, and it is Duke Zenail’s duty to protect and monitor these survivors.”

 

I see, that’s how I got caught.

 

“Some of the locals heard news of Bertie’s death. So we did a background check.”

I swallowed a sigh of relief. They didn’t discover my true identity.

It would be hard to say that I wasn’t aware of something like that. First, it would be better to figure out the intention behind that question.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re asking that. If Bertie Lucian is my real name, would that create a problem?”

 

“It would. Because she is already dead.”

“You saw the body?”

 

As I answered, Bertie’s face, buried in the dirt, came to mind.

 

Next, Andert came to mind. The long scar that ran from his cheek to his jawline.

The vivid wound that proved he was still alive.

 

For some reason, I felt a surge of anger at that, but I skillfully held it back and continued speaking.

 

“Did you see Bertie Lucian’s body? What if she didn’t die? What if you thought she was dead but she survived and was living well?”

“So you think I thought she was dead, but she might actually be alive. You seem to think that’s possible.”

 

Desherro, who had been staring at me intently, slowly blinked both of his eyelids. He hesitated.

I didn’t know what he was hesitating about, but after a short and heavy silence, his hesitation came to an end.

 

“Is that your story, Andert?”

My heart dropped to the ground.

 

“…What are you talking about?”

Without warning, he twisted my hand, causing my arm to twist along with it. 

Desherro firmly grabbed my sleeve without hesitation.

 

And then it was revealed.

The traces of engraved oaths side by side.

 

“Do you remember that I received a photo from Count Serenier today? In that photo, there were three men standing. Me, Duke Raphael Zenail, and finally Andert Fager.”

 

I remembered the three undressed figures.

 

“The same oath was also engraved on Andert’s forearm in the photo. In the same position as your oath, the same angle, the same size.”

 

…Oh shit.

‘It’s over.’

No, no. It wasn’t over yet.

 

‘This is far-fetched. Four years ago, there were only two traces of oaths on my arm. It’s not the same as before. There are three now.’

 

But I couldn’t point out the number of oaths.

Desherro could very well be bluffing.

 

The actual photograph may not show any engravings at all. So pointing out a difference of numbers could prove to be a fatal mistake.

Desherro already knew that there were two traces engraved on my body four years ago.

Therefore, mentioning the photo was likely bait.

 

“It must be a coincidence. It’s too weak to be used as evidence.”

I said what I thought to be the safest response.

Desherro’s mouth remained closed until it was ready to open.

 

“Miss Daisy, I have been working closely with the best swordsmen of the continent for nearly ten years. My talent with a sword might not compare with some of them, but I also have the skills to preserve my own life. You held the sword with your right hand to deceive me.”

“Why do you think that?”

 

“It’s simple. If you were right-handed, you would also have worn the earring that contains that magic sword on your right ear. Using the opposite ear would be inefficient. Also, you primarily use your left hand in your daily life. When drinking tea, giving directions, or picking up objects, all with your left hand. Even when stepping on a stepping stone, you use your left leg. So I saw it.”

 

He looked down at my tightly held right hand and continued.

 

“But there was one exception. When shaking hands, you only used your right hand. Like when we met at the airport. In a predominantly right-handed society, it’s a common habit of considerate left-handed individuals.”

 

I was left speechless.

Desherro’s incessant talking with his tongue seemed so, so perverted.

 

‘When did he have the time to notice all that?’

I knew he was sharp, but this was just too much, wasn’t it?

 

“…So, based on the fact that the location of the oath’s trace is the same and that I’m a left-handed swordsman. You’re saying these two things alone are enough to make you suspicious of my identity now?”


Daisy is the general/department store’s most gullible customer. She’ll buy everything that has the title of <for maids> sticked onto it.

 

anddd I’m finally trying out the moondust system! bear with meee. I’ll be using the star symbol for locked chapters

Hey there, this is the translator, Ami. Hope you're enjoying your reading. You can support me buying me a ko-fi here

Comment

  1. vytas0210 says:

    Thank you for the chapter!
    She slipped but yeah, it not something you would normally think, unless you are already considering it. To fan the flames, I will also guess that Rue is listening. You know, he is half stalker.

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