Mylene’s bandages finally came off on the morning of the second day after her injury had been discovered.
As the apothecary unwrapped the white cloth, the wound on her right hand proved to have closed, leaving only a thin red line behind. She still had to avoid soaking it in water for long periods, but tasks like carrying tea sets or writing in the ledgers were supposedly fine.
The moment she heard those words, Mylene let out a heavy sigh of relief. She quickly composed herself, but a joy she couldn't quite hide flickered in her gray eyes.
While she was resting, I’d caught her trying to brew tea with one hand. Since then, I’d made a point of glaring at her every time she tried to leave her room, which had finally forced her to stay quiet. Still, it was clear that being unable to work had left her incredibly restless.
In truth, I hadn't been settled either.
For the past two days, I’d spent my mornings gnawing on hard bread and drinking hot water so faintly colored it couldn't even be called tea. Dust was piling up in the dining hall, and the bedsheets hadn't been changed once. When you only have one servant, putting her on leave naturally brings the entire manor to a grinding halt.
—As I thought, it’s best to use people without breaking them...
"Master... may I return to my duties today? The apothecary gave me his permission, provided I don't spend too much time on wet work."
"Don't go doing everything at once. Stick to the tea and the ledgers for today. Leave the laundry and floor scrubbing until the wound has completely healed."
"I understand. Then, I shall start with the morning tea—"
"Before that, take these."
I picked up the iron ring sitting on my desk.
Threaded through it were three keys: one for the pantry, one for the small room where the oil jars were kept, and one for the cleaning supply closet. I’d simply tossed them on my desk after reclaiming them from the previous staff I’d kicked out.
The moment Mylene saw the keys, she froze.
Her right hand, which had started to reach out, stopped at her chest. The color drained from her face. To a woman who had been falsely accused of stealing a silver plate, storage keys likely looked less like tools of the trade and more like evidence for a frame-up.
"Master... what are these?"
"The keys to the manor. It's a hassle for me to have to open the pantry, fetch the oil, and hand over the cleaning supplies every single time. From today, you’re in charge of them."
"B-but I’ve only just arrived at this estate... Aren't keys usually kept by a steward or a long-serving retainer...?"
"The steward and the long-serving retainers were all fired by me in one go."
"Well, that is true, but... if anything inside were to go missing, I would be—"
She stopped herself.
Mylene wasn't looking at the keys; she was looking at the past that lay beyond them. Just like when that silver plate had vanished, things would go missing without her knowledge, and before she realized it, she’d be branded a thief. She was terrified of it happening again.
"That's why I'm going to count the inventory with you first."
"With you, Master?"
"Yeah. We'll both write down every single item remaining as of today. I'll verify the list and apply my seal. Anything that went missing before today isn't your responsibility. From now on, whenever you take something out, record the item, the amount, and the time. If things decrease on their own, we'll know the moment we look at the paper, right?"
Mylene stared at me for a long time.
"Will you... believe my word?"
"I’m saying I won’t decide things based on words alone. Your word or anyone else’s can be twisted later however one likes. But a record that I’ve personally verified and sealed won’t change."
"Then... the paper will be the proof that I haven't stolen anything...?"
"It'll also be proof if you did steal something."
Before Mylene's expression could stiffen, I gave the ring of keys a light jingle.
"Don't misunderstand. It's not that I've decided to trust you. If I want to live comfortably, it’s simply more efficient to decide who holds the keys and who keeps the ledgers. That's all."
"...I see. You truly do have a harsh way of putting things, Master."
"I'm not a good person, after all."
"But I understand that you will keep a proper record."
Mylene held out both hands. Mindful of her scarred right hand, she accepted the iron ring carefully to ensure she didn't drop it.
The three keys chimed softly against one another.
Mylene’s shoulders jolted once at the sound, but she didn't try to give the keys back.
◇
The first place we inspected was the pantry.
Bundles of dried herbs from the time of my predecessor hung from the door. Stepping inside, the empty shelves were the first things I noticed. The stock of dried meat was lower than what was written in the old ledger, and several sacks of wheat were tied with different knots. Among the wine bottles lined up in the back, three had broken wax seals.
I didn't know if the previous servants had looted them on their way out or if they’d been pilfering them for months. Either way, if we didn't record the current state now, we wouldn't be able to tell when the next shortage occurred.
I placed a sheet of paper on a shelf and handed a quill to Mylene.
"Count them from the edge. I'll observe."
"Is it all right for me to be the one to write?"
"That’s why I brought you here. You don't expect me to do all the writing, do you?"
Mylene hurriedly took the quill.
Scanning the shelves one by one, she began listing the wheat, beans, dried meat, salt, herbs, and oil. Her movements were cautious but efficient. She checked the mouths of the bags to see if they had been opened and recorded the wine bottles separately based on the state of their seals.
"Master. The dried meat and salted fish are fewer in number than what is recorded in the old ledger. Also, two of the wheat sacks show signs of having been re-tied. Three bottles of wine have been opened."
"Don't serve the opened ones to guests. Even if I'm the one drinking it, check the smell first. I absolutely refuse to deal with an upset stomach."
"I understand. Also, at this rate, the wheat and beans will not last long. We will need to purchase more."
"Hmm... How much?"
"If it is just for the two of us, the current amount will last a few days... However, I believe we should be frugal with the dried meat. We are also short on salt and oil..."
"Then write it down. Start with whatever would make my meals worse. Then, add your portion as well."
Mylene’s quill stopped.
"M-my meals as well?"
"That again? If I work you without feeding you and you collapse, who’s going to brew my tea? Do you intend to waste the silver coins I paid the apothecary?"
"No. I have no such intention..."
"Then count for two people."
Mylene gave a small nod and added the necessary amounts of wheat and beans.
"I will take the older vegetables and hard bread. For you, Master, something fresh—"
"If it's just hard, we can boil it and both eat it. If it's spoiled, throw it out. If we eat something half-rotten and have to call the apothecary again, it’ll just be more expensive."
"Then I shall check for spoilage before dividing them."
"Do that."
Even while I was checking the back of the shelves, Mylene's quill never stopped. She was noting everything down to the knots on the bags and the oil stains on the shelf boards. She had mentioned copying the grocery ledgers at her previous mansion, but it was more than that—she had a habit of meticulously observing the condition of items.
"You have a good eye."
When the words slipped out, Mylene’s shoulders jumped.
It was the same reaction she had when she was being scolded. Perhaps being praised was scarier for her.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. Carry on. If you hadn't noticed, I might have drunk wine with a broken seal and ruined my stomach."
"...Thank you."
Her voice was still small, but she gave her thanks without apologizing.
It seemed she was making progress, if only by a fraction.
◇
It took until past noon to check the pantry, the oil storage, and the cleaning closet.
I was the one who moved the heavy oil jars and wheat sacks. I didn't want her to reopen her wound by carrying them so soon after it had closed. Besides, the sight of the young head of a noble house hauling oil jars was something I could never let outsiders see.
Carrying heavy objects myself just so I can reach a point where I can exploit others.
Something about this felt wrong.
When we returned to the office, Mylene lined up the three completed sheets on the desk. Items, current counts, damaged goods, opened goods, and the amount to be replenished. At the very bottom, she had even recorded the date and time she had received the keys.
The handwriting was delicate but very legible.
"...Did you write this?"
"Yes... At the previous mansion, I used to copy the Madam's ledgers. I was ordered to rewrite them many times if I made even a single mistake..."
"Whoever scolded you had poor eyes. This is perfectly good handwriting."
Mylene gripped the edge of her apron.
Previously, she would have immediately denied the praise or apologized. But this time, she looked down for a moment before quietly bowing her head.
"Thank you very much...! I shall strive to write even more clearly."
I checked the three sheets and applied my seal to the bottom of each one.
"With this, any shortages from before today are not your responsibility. From now on, write it down the same day you take something out. That goes for when I take something on my own, too."
"Is it truly all right for me to record things that you take as well, Master?"
"Of course! If the master takes food and blames it on the maid, the record is worthless."
Mylene stared at the pressed seals for a long time.
"At the previous mansion, whenever something went missing, they would ransack my bed before they even looked at the ledger."
"Here, we look at the paper first. Tearing apart a bed is more of a hassle to clean up."
"...I am grateful that you dislike trouble so much, Master."
"You say some strange things sometimes, don't you?"
"Not as much as you, Master."
It was a quiet reply.
Mylene’s gray eyes widened slightly, as if she were surprised by her own boldness. Fearing she might be scolded, she immediately straightened her back.
I wasn't particularly angry.
Being able to talk back like that made her much easier to deal with than if she were terrified and hiding everything.
"Starting today, these three areas are your jurisdiction. If there's something we need, write it down before we run out. I hate finding out we're out of wheat after I've already started to get hungry."
"I understand. I shall take full responsibility for them so that you may live at your ease, Master."
...That again?
Mylene spoke the words "so that you may live at your ease" like a sacred vow. It wasn't wrong—it was exactly what I’d told her many times. And yet, hearing it from her own mouth felt strangely unsettling.
"Don't make it such a heavy thing. They're just keys."
"To me, they are not just keys."
Mylene cradled the iron ring against her chest.
"At the previous manor, the sound of keys was something frightening. It was the sound that approached my bed every time something went missing. But these keys are different. They are the sound of you entrusting me with my work, Master."
Don't say that with such a serious face...
I only did it because I hated having to walk all the way from the office every time the pantry needed to be opened...
Having no other choice, I cleared my throat.
"Then don't drop them. If you lose them, I really will scold you."
"Yes! I shall protect them—not just to avoid being scolded, but to keep this manor running!"
Mylene said so and, for the first time, gave a small smile of her own accord.
It was still a faint smile. However, it wasn't the empty face I’d seen at the employment agency, nor the terrified look she’d had when she was hiding her injury. It was the face of someone who understood the weight of the keys and had decided to carry them anyway.
I turned my gaze out the window.
The manor was still vast, and we were still short-handed. The territory’s ledgers were untouched, and the pantry was low on supplies. The life of leisure, surrounded by the wine and meat I desired, wasn't even a shadow on the horizon yet.
Still, just hearing the three keys jingling at Mylene's waist made it feel as though the manor had finally begun to move, if only a little.
"We're going to the market tomorrow. To buy my food, and yours."
While still cradling the keys to her chest, Mylene bowed deeply.
"Yes, Master... I shall check the stock and the budget to ensure I choose only the best."
Her voice was no longer that of someone merely trying to avoid being discarded.