NM | Chapter 06

Chapter 6

“What? Absolutely not!”

Amelia’s sharp voice rang out, loud enough to be heard even beyond the glass windows. Vincent frowned at the piercing sound and plugged his ears with his index fingers.

“What do you mean, no? I already told them to send her over this evening.”

“Why would you decide that on your own? You don’t even live at the estate!”

“On my own? I asked Houston if they were short on staff. She’s been working alone in the laundry room this whole time. The banquet preparations are almost finished, so the original laundry maids will take over again. And since she’s technically a maid from Grandmother’s household, she doesn’t even have a fixed assignment here.”

“Th-that may be true, but she’s my maid! How can you send her without even asking me? And to the duke, of all people. What if she makes a mistake and upsets him?”

“Well, then that would be Logan’s fault. He was the one who asked for her to be assigned to him.”

“The duke did?”

At Vincent’s words, Amelia’s eyes widened.

“If you really hate it that much, then go tell him yourself. Say you don’t trust her and ask him to choose a different maid if he wants. We promised him a personal maid even before he came to the estate, but since none of the maids suited his taste, no one ended up serving him.”

“How did he even come to know her?”

“Just… by chance?”

At Vincent’s careless reply, Amelia’s lips stuck out sharply.

“By chance.”
What chance would there be for a maid assigned to the laundry room, told not to wander around, to just “happen” to meet the duke?

Unless she deliberately went somewhere the duke would be.

Feeling uneasy, Amelia unconsciously bit down on her neatly manicured nails. Her anger toward the maid for ignoring her warning and approaching the duke was quickly overtaken by worry.

Why would the duke specifically ask for her to be assigned as his personal maid?

Was it simply because she was a new face?

“Did he say anything else?”

“Not really. He just asked if we were close, and I said yes. So when is she being sent?”

Vincent rubbed his tired eyes. He had been reviewing documents again because Logan never stopped working. He had thought Amelia had come late at night for something urgent, but she was only questioning him about Logan’s personal maid. It irritated him.

“Well, whatever happens will happen.”

Stretching his stiff shoulders, Vincent spoke bluntly.

***

After folding the last of the laundry and returning to her room, the woman rubbed her tightly knotted shoulders. Every part of her body ached, but the burn scar on her right shoulder throbbed as if it were being scorched.

Keeping her shoulders hunched, she went to her spot in the corner of the maids’ room. Lacking ice, which was hard to come by unless it was winter, she tried to cool the heat with her cold hands instead. The pain that used to come only at night now appeared at all hours.

The wound had been there so long that even rubbing it hard no longer hurt.

Running her red, swollen fingers over the rough scar, she let out a deep sigh. She had saved her wages and visited doctors many times, but the answer was always the same. They said it was psychological, and there was no proper treatment.

She didn’t even know how the injury had happened. The memories that had vanished completely continued to torment her.

Just then, the door to the maids’ room flew open without a knock. The sound of heels echoed from the hallway. The owner of those elegant footsteps was Miss Amelia, the noble lady who valued graceful manners as if her life depended on it.

“Where is she?”

Amelia stormed into the room, her sharp gaze sweeping the interior. The maids who had been resting after work rose one by one in surprise. The woman, curled up on her bed, was no exception.

Spotting her, Amelia crossed the room without hesitation.

Smack!

With the sound of skin striking skin, the woman’s head snapped to the right.

“You! Didn’t I tell you to stay put and live like you were dead? Do you think my words are a joke? Huh? So you shamelessly flirted with the duke right in front of him?”

Amelia screamed.

“Pardon? I don’t understand what you mean—”

“What? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Are you pretending in front of me right now?”

The sight of the maid keeping her mouth shut and lying after meeting the duke twisted Amelia’s beautiful face.

That expression, that tone, those eyes looking up at her so obediently, as if she knew nothing. She had disliked them for a long time, but today they were especially unbearable.

“How many times did I warn you not to catch the duke’s attention, huh?”

Amelia raised her hand again and struck the woman’s cheek once more. The pain rang in her ears, leaving her standing there in a daze. Only then did she understand what Amelia was talking about.

‘She knows.’

Miss Amelia was talking about what had happened earlier that day with the duke. Any excuse about trying to avoid him would not work. Amelia would never believe that Vincent had spoken first and approached them.

“I—”

Still not satisfied even after hitting her twice, Amelia raised her arm high again. The maid, terrified, bit her lips and shut her eyes, waiting for her mistress’s punishment without even trying to explain. As if such punishment were frequent.

She could feel everyone watching.

Punishing a servant for wrongdoing was common in any estate, but doing so in front of others was rare.

“My lady, it’s late. Wouldn’t it be better to calm down now? You’re scheduled to have lunch with the duke tomorrow, so you should rest early.”

“So I’m the bad woman who takes her anger out on maids again, is that it?”

At the head maid’s attempt to stop her, Amelia’s trembling hand slowly lowered.

“Of course not, my lady. The fault lies with the maid who disobeyed your orders despite repeated warnings.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient.”

Amelia looked around the room. Even hearing exactly what she wanted to hear from the head maid did nothing to improve her mood.

‘They’ll pretend to be on my side here, but talk behind my back later.’

Amelia glared sharply at the woman, who could not meet her eyes. It had always been like this. Her brother, her grandmother. They all trusted and cared more for this useless, insignificant maid than for her.

‘And I’m always the bad one.’

Looking back, she was always painted as the cruel mistress. The maid, who played the pitiful victim by clinging to her lack of childhood memories, always gained sympathy with her weak, helpless act.

Even though she wanted to get rid of the woman who irritated her at every turn, she could not simply throw her out. Glowering at the troublesome burden, Amelia stomped her foot in frustration.

“This is so annoying!”

Still standing there with her messy hair, the woman became the target of Amelia’s rage. Amelia grabbed whatever was within reach and hurled it across the room.

After the storm passed, the air in the room hung heavy and still.

“It’s late. Finish what you need to do and get ready for bed.”

The first to regain her composure was the head maid. She gave instructions as calmly as if Amelia had never been there.

The maids were used to it. Though Amelia usually spoke of noble dignity and acted refined, she occasionally showed her hot-tempered, fiery nature.

They felt relieved that they had not been the target of her anger this time.