Seven days had passed since I officially hired Clarice Elford.
The first three days had been a trial. Back then, Clarice looked like she might walk out the door at any moment. Now, things were different. Every morning, she took her seat at her desk, tied her blonde hair back in a ponytail, and began opening the bundles of paperwork from the domain as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Faint shadows still lingered under her blue eyes, but the haggard edge she’d carried back at the old inn on North Street had softened. Even her worn-out cuffs were less noticeable now that Mylene had mended them.
I sat on the office couch, watching the scene while sipping my tea.
It wasn’t bad.
Actually, it was quite good.
The stacks of paper diminished without me having to lift a finger. I didn't have to rummage through wooden crates; only the documents that actually required my attention were placed neatly at the edge of my desk. This was what hiring people was all about. In my previous life, I was the one forced to shoulder everyone else's work. Now, it was the opposite. I sat in a chair while someone else did the labor. This was exactly the kind of noble lifestyle I had been seeking.
"Vain, your face is going soft. Stop it. When you smile like that with your villainous face, it looks like you’re plotting to crush a village. It’s creepy."
"What an impolite woman. I'm simply moved by the fact that my workload is finally decreasing."
"Then, while you're feeling moved, read these. I have no intention of deciding things that require your signet on my own. If I worked like that, the responsibility would just be pinned on me again."
Clarice slid three sheets of parchment toward me. I tried to pretend I hadn't heard her by taking a long sip of tea, but Mylene appeared at my side and lifted the teapot, cleanly cutting off my escape route.
"Please be careful, Master. The tea is hot."
"Don't ruin my 'looking busy with tea' strategy. You’ve become far too good at handling me, Mylene."
"Clarice-san taught me that you always drink tea whenever you’re trying to run away, Master."
Clarice covered her mouth with her hand from across the desk. Don't laugh. Reluctantly, I took the parchment. On it, she had categorized replies to various villages, taxes to be suspended, and petitions to be deferred. Even the matters that had been stalled since the predecessor's time were divided into those requiring immediate action and those requiring further investigation. Her handwriting was thin but easy to read. Above all, I didn't have to dig through wooden crates one sheet at a time.
That alone made her worth her weight in gold.
"Not bad. With this, I can avoid drowning in a mountain of paper."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"It is. You're as impressive as I expected, Clarice. The amount I have to read has been significantly reduced."
Still holding her quill, Clarice averted her gaze slightly.
"...Your way of complimenting people is strange. Usually, a person would say it’s for the good of the domain or that it will help the villagers."
"That's part of it. But the most important thing is that my work is decreasing."
"You really won't budge on that point, will you?"
Her voice sounded exasperated, but she wasn't angry. Seven days ago, she would have snapped back with far more venom. Things were different now. Clarice didn't trust me yet, but she seemed to have realized that beneath my abrasive phrasing, I rarely lied.
◇
Even when the noon bell rang, Clarice didn't leave her seat.
Mylene returned from the dining hall. Her white bobbed hair swayed as she carried a tray. Instead of the usual tea, it held flatbread and a bean stew. The scent of herbs wafted through the air, making my own stomach growl. Clarice didn't look up from her papers, merely making a shooing motion with one hand.
"I'll go later. I'm just finishing a draft for a reply."
"Going later is not permitted. In this mansion, you'll be scolded by the Master if you skip a meal."
"You really say that like it's a scripted line, don't you?"
"Because it is the rule," Mylene replied quietly, placing the tray at the edge of Clarice’s desk. Clarice let out a weary sigh, but she couldn't seem to resist the aroma of the flatbread. She set down her quill and reached for the plate.
"...Just a few bites, then. I suppose it would be a problem for you if it got cold."
"It would not be a problem for me. However, if you were to collapse, Clarice-san, it would be a problem for the Master."
"It's a little amusing how 'the Master' always comes first with you. You should just admit that you're the one worried about me."
Mylene's fingers stopped at the edge of the tray. Her gray eyes flickered toward me once before quickly dropping.
"I manage the mansion for the sake of the Master."
"Is that all?"
Clarice's voice wasn't accusing. It was the same tone she used when analyzing a ledger—she was simply trying to verify the truth beneath the words. After looking slightly troubled, Mylene took a small breath.
"...I do not much like watching people work themselves to the point of collapse."
Clarice fell silent, flatbread in hand.
It was a brief silence. But in that moment, I felt the hard wall between the two of them thin just a little.
"I see. Then I'll eat. I have no desire to make you watch something unpleasant."
"Thank you."
"I don't think this is something to thank me for... but fine."
Clarice took a bite of the flatbread and narrowed her eyes slightly.
"This has herbs in it. It's much better than the black bread at that old inn."
"The Master said that those who work should eat from the same pot."
"I'm sure the way he said it was terrible, regardless."
"It was. But I was happy."
When Mylene said that, Clarice glanced at me for a split second. I pretended not to hear and sipped my cooling tea. I had no interest in being dragged into the middle of their sentimental moment.
◇
In the afternoon, Clarice mentioned that she wanted to audit the food storage ledgers.
Mylene tensed up slightly. It was likely the first time she’d had to show her records to someone else since being entrusted with the keys. Her pale fingers brushed the keys at her waist. However, she didn't shrink away.
On the storage shelves sat sacks of grain, beans, dried meat, oil jars, and small bundles of herbs. These shelves had been nearly empty before. Now, there was at least enough to feed the three of us properly. Mylene opened the ledger and presented it to Clarice.
Clarice read it with intense focus. Her eyes weren't mocking. She followed the script, tracked the totals, inspected the shelves, and returned to the ledger once more.
"The handwriting is still a bit rigid, but the numbers are correct. The oil consumption matches the meal count, and the dried meat is properly accounted for. You did this all alone?"
"The Master told me not to make mistakes with the numbers."
"If people could do it just because they were told, the world's ledgers would be much cleaner. You're doing an excellent job protecting the mansion, Mylene."
Mylene’s eyes widened.
She probably hadn't expected to be praised. Her gray eyes wavered and she quickly looked down, but she didn't deny it. Before, she would have apologized and insisted it was nothing.
"...Thank you, Clarice-san."
"Being called '-san' still feels a bit itchy, but whatever."
Clarice said this as she flipped through the pages of the ledger. Suddenly, her hand stopped on a certain line. The look in her blue eyes changed instantly.
"Vain, this... in the food payment records, House Elford's name is here. And not just once. My house was involved in wheat transactions during the predecessor's time."
Her voice was stiff.
It was a tone that reminded me of the extreme wariness she’d shown when I first opened the door to her room at that inn. Mylene noticed the change too and looked up from the ledger with concern.
I leaned against the entrance of the storage room and swallowed a click of my tongue.
Just when I thought my workload had decreased, it seemed one of Clarice's old wounds had surfaced from the depths of the ledgers. Seriously, when am I ever going to get that nap?