The Maid’s Duty
He seemed to be gauging whether or not to use Diana as she was. He turned Diana’s face this way and that, then lifted her headscarf to inspect her tied-up hair.
“Oatmeal… beige.”
He muttered something under his breath, seemingly assessing the color of her hair.
The man, who had earlier brushed Diana’s cheek with that stick, turned away shortly thereafter. She could hear the sound of him carelessly tossing the stick to the ground. A metallic clang echoed—a sound that normal strings wouldn’t make.
Footsteps grew distant beyond the door. Diana couldn’t move from her spot until the terrifying sound had completely disappeared.
It felt as though a silent storm had raked across her entire body.
“…It seems you now have your first task.”
Emel let out a long sigh.
“Prepare the bedchamber, Diana.”
“Yes, Butler.”
“His Highness seems to be in an unusually foul mood today. Don’t take it to heart; he isn’t always like this.”
“Ah… I heard he’s unwell. They say he suffers from a chronic illness.”
Once the overwhelming presence vanished, her rationality returned.
Thinking about it, someone who had been confined from the outside world for 13 years due to illness couldn’t possibly be immune to sensitivity, no matter how naturally gentle they might be. Especially when faced with a new maid who appeared without prior explanation.
“Chronic illness? Well, yes… one could call it that.”
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Emel’s response seemed oddly hesitant. The new master appeared to be a bit more temperamental than expected… Hopefully, just a bit.
“That aside, this palace is under constant surveillance. If anything untoward happens, pretend you don’t know.”
“Yes, Butler.”
Diana cautiously approached the direction of the strange noise earlier. She crouched down and picked up the item discarded on the floor.
The moment her fingers brushed against the worn leather, she froze. A dry flake crumbled off, revealing an object reeking with the sharp scent of blood.
It was a whip.
***
Sharing the same floor as one’s master is a tremendously burdensome task for the servants. One must always be prepared for sudden summons and, worse yet, risk earning reproaches by loitering too close.
From the first day of her duties on the third floor, Diana devoted herself to memorizing the location of every item in the area. To navigate the space as naturally as if it were her own home required thorough calculations and memorization. She noted the smell, listened for sounds, and committed every texture within reach to memory.
“No more whips. I hate whips…!”
During her younger days in Hilde, Diana had witnessed more than a few children being whipped by their pimps. She herself had been whipped only once—when she spilled hot water on an important guest in the brothel.
The whip had shredded and split the skin on her calves and back, leaving her bleeding and oozing pus. Yet she had been too terrified of the madam to even apply ointment. The scars remained faint but still visible on her back to this day.
By the third day, Diana still wasn’t accustomed to the structure, often bumping into or scratching herself on unexpected objects. No matter how carefully she tapped her cane to probe her surroundings, she frequently hurt herself on furniture or fixtures she hadn’t anticipated. Her arms and legs were covered with scratches and bruises.
However, by the fourth day, she finally succeeded. Diana managed to clean the Crown Prince’s bedchamber and return without a single mistake or mishap.
Good. Now that I’ve got the hang of it, I can do this!
Fortunately, while Diana was noisily adjusting to her new workplace, the master of the palace didn’t appear even once.
“He takes a walk in the woods every morning, but this time, it seems he’ll be staying at a villa in the forest for a few days. By the time he returns, he should be much calmer.”
“Does His Highness hunt himself?”
“Of course. What else would he do at the hunting grounds?”
Emel spoke nonchalantly, but the rumors surrounding the Crown Prince came to Diana’s mind, making it seem odd.
They say he’s too ill to move…?
And yet, such a man hunts animals himself?
Recalling their first encounter, his voice hadn’t sounded weak. Moreover, why would someone suffering from a chronic illness carry something as grotesque as a whip?
As her confusion showed on her face, Emel gently advised her.
“Don’t be too curious, Diana. Just focus on your duties.”
“Yes, Butler.”
***
Diana quickly adapted to her new job.
If things continued this way, she might seamlessly blend into her role despite the initial tension. In time, she hoped to find a way to fulfill the conditions of her contract. She tried to avoid dwelling on the specifics of how she might achieve that.
The Crown Prince’s voice, heavy with disgust when uttering the word “whore,” echoed vividly in her mind. Attempting to seduce him as per Prince Aizen’s orders would likely end in something worse than dismissal.
Not that I want to do such a thing anyway, she thought.
Not every woman from Hilde was a prostitute. There had to be a way to complete her mission without defying the prince.
Diana wiped the sweat from her brow and continued tidying the Crown Prince’s bedchamber. She replaced the bedding, heavily imbued with his masculine scent, with freshly laundered sheets. Ensuring no one was around, she patted down the removed bedding with her palms. As the moisture seeped into the fabric, a refreshing scent began to emanate from the sheets.
When Diana first checked the bedroom, the faint scent of blood lingering in the air had completely disappeared, leaving only the warm scent of freshly laundered fabric. For people with ordinary senses of smell, the difference would have been imperceptible, but for someone with a sharp nose, the change was evident.
Such a metallic undertone didn’t suit the owner of such a beautiful voice. Diana prayed that her feelings would somehow reach him.
But like an overinflated balloon on a spring picnic, her hopeful heart burst with an audible pop.
On a day when the stars shone brightly, and the sheets dried crisp under their light, a body was found in the outer palace.
Diana froze, clutching the freshly laundered sheets. It happened just as she set foot inside the outer palace.
From the entrance, an ominous stench pervaded the air. The smell was so overpowering that she nearly gagged.
“What on earth…”
The blood scent she had worked so hard to clean over the past week had returned with a vengeance.
Holding the sheets in both arms made it hard to move quickly. Diana stepped back outside and hung the sheets back on the clothesline. She calmed her pounding heart and fumbled for her watch.
Had something happened in the 30 minutes she’d been away to gather the laundry? Had the Crown Prince returned to the palace?
Back in the palace, Diana roamed the first-floor parlor and dining hall looking for the head Butler, Emel. Emel rarely left the palace. If he did, it was only for a brief stroll outside the main palace gates after ensuring the Crown Prince had gone to his chambers.
“Head Butler? Are you here?”
There was a faint sense of movement behind one of the doors.
But the voice that came from inside was not Emel’s. A figure emerged, startling Diana.
“Hey, young lady, do you have a death wish? Why are you wandering around right now? Didn’t you hear the commotion?”
It was Harper, the head chef.
In her flustered state, Diana must have lost her way. She hadn’t even realized she’d wandered into the kitchen and was startled by the realization.
The blood scent must have dulled her sense of direction. Only now did the distinct blend of kitchen aromas—various cooking ingredients—reach her senses.
“Commotion? I didn’t hear anything because I was out by the laundry area.”
“Well, maybe ignorance is bliss. Either way, don’t wander around aimlessly. Keep your head down and stay out of sight. You don’t want to get caught up in this mess.”
Harper guided Diana into the dining area.
“Mr. Harper, do you know where the master is? Has he returned? And what about Mr. Emel?”
“It’s better not to know.”
“What?”
“This is your first time experiencing something like this, right? You’ll have to get used to it. Then again, being unable to see… Well, there are certainly things in this world better left unseen.”
Harper placed a warm glass of milk in Diana’s hand.
“Drink this, wait until evening, and then go upstairs. I’ll prepare your meal here in the kitchen.”
***
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