Mylene had been rushing through the manor corridors since dawn.
She unlocked the granary, checked the grain sacks, portioned out porridge for the Black Claw Mercenaries and the reformed bandits, hung bandages to dry, scrubbed kitchen pots, and boiled water for the tea served in the office. The manor, once silent, now buzzed with the sounds of people from the moment the sun rose. More people meant less food. More wounded meant more bandages. More mud-caked boots meant filthier floors. Mylene was managing nearly all of it by herself.
"Mylene, you look pale."
Clarice spoke to her from the kitchen doorway, and Mylene hurriedly straightened her back. She held an empty bucket in her hands, with laundry draped over her arm.
"I am fine... I haven't brought the Master his tea yet, nor have I measured the grain for the midday porridge. We're also short on linens for the wounded, so I was going to see if I could cut up some old bedsheets."
"Do you really intend to do all of that yourself?"
"Yes. It is my duty."
Clarice started to say something, but Mylene’s legs suddenly wavered. She didn’t fall, but the rim of her bucket struck the wall, splashing a bit of water onto the floor.
"Mylene!"
Before Clarice could reach her, Vain, who had been walking from the other end of the corridor, stopped with a scowl.
"What are you doing?"
"M—My apologies! I’ll wipe it up immediately!"
"Don't. You just stumbled, didn't you?"
"Only slightly... It won't interfere with my work."
"It’s nothing but an interference. If you collapse, who holds the key to the granary? Who oversees the kitchen portions? Who manages the bandages? And who is going to brew my tea?"
That last one sounded suspiciously like a personal priority. Clarice raised an eyebrow, but Vain didn't notice. Mylene bit her lip while clutching the bucket.
"It is my own inadequacy. Even though the staff has grown, I am simply too slow..."
"No. The workload has grown too large. At first, there was only you, Clarice, and myself who could do anything. Since then, we’ve added the Black Claws, the former bandits, and the wounded. Despite that, you’ve kept the granary, the kitchen, the laundry, and the tea service running. I’m impressed you’ve managed to keep things going alone for this long."
Mylene, who had braced herself for a scolding, widened her eyes.
"I have never seen such an excellent maid."
"...I am... excellent?"
"That’s what I said. Is your exhaustion affecting your hearing?"
"No, it’s just... in my previous household, I was cast out after being accused of stealing silver plates. Someone like me has no right to be told such things..."
"The people at your last manor were simply blind fools. I use those who are useful. You are useful. Therefore, I use you."
It was a blunt, almost harsh way to put it. However, the words landed straight in Mylene’s heart.
◇
Vain led Mylene straight to the office and forced her into a chair. Normally, it was unthinkable for a servant to sit in the presence of their master. Mylene tried to stand several times, but each time Vain said, "It’s a hassle if you collapse," so she eventually settled for sitting as small as possible, her hands tightly clasped over her knees.
"I’m going to hire more staff."
"Staff, My Lord?"
"Yes. For the kitchen, the laundry, the cleaning, the bandages, and the dishes. Don't do it all yourself. It would be a problem if you fell ill. I’ll increase the number of servants and place them under you."
"Under me...?"
"I am appointing you head maid."
Mylene was finally lost for words. Clarice’s quill stopped mid-stroke.
"Vain, that’s rather sudden."
"It's not sudden. If anything, it's overdue. Mylene understands the inner workings of this manor better than anyone. She knows who's hungry from outdoor work, who can be trusted to mind the fire, what to serve the wounded so they recover, and how to coordinate the water and wood haulers so the kitchen doesn't stall. In that case, she's the best person to choose the staff."
"S—Someone like me, as head maid..."
"That again? Etiquette can be taught later. However, an eye for preventing waste and an intuition for where people should work aren't skills you can learn overnight. You possess those."
Vain pushed a leather pouch across the desk. Inside, several silver coins clinked together.
"Start with three people. Someone to help with the cooking. Someone for the laundry and bandages. And someone to handle the cleaning and dishes. I don't care about their social standing. I don't care what was said about them at their old jobs. However, I have no use for thieves, liars, or slackers. You observe them and you choose."
"Will you not be the one to choose them, Master?"
"If I choose, I'll only look at their raw utility. You understand the nuances of the work inside the manor better. If we want the kitchen to run without a hitch, it's better if you're the one who picks them."
Clarice nodded slightly.
"That's a fair point. Mylene can evaluate them based on the actual flow of the kitchen, laundry, and granary."
"...Ah, also."
Vain added with a perfectly straight face.
"Make sure they're good-looking."
Clarice’s quill stopped again.
"...What did you just say?"
"I want them to be good-looking. I can't afford a beauty who won't work, but if they work just as well, I'd prefer the attractive ones. It'll make the manor feel a bit more lively. It brings me just a little bit closer to my dream of a life of decadence."
"Could you please not mix your personal hobbies into the hiring conditions?"
"It's important. This is a noble's manor, isn't it?"
"What's important is their competence."
"Which is why I said they must be able to work. If they can work and happen to be good-looking, then all the better."
Clarice pressed a hand to her forehead in exasperation. Mylene lowered her eyebrows, looking troubled, but a small smile played at the corners of her mouth.
"Master... I will, um... do my best to fulfill that request."
"I’m counting on you. Someone cheap, useful, and good-looking."
"You're asking for too much at once."
"My dreams always seem so far out of reach," Vain said with such genuine regret that Clarice was left speechless.
Mylene stared at the leather pouch. Choosing people to work under her—she never imagined a day would come when she would hold such a position. In her previous manor, she was always the first to be suspected whenever something went missing. They hadn't even liked her touching a key. And yet now, Vain was entrusting her not just with the key to the granary, but with the responsibility of hiring people. It was frightening. But more than that, a warmth welled up deep in her chest.
"...I understand. I am still inexperienced, but I promise to choose those who will be of use to you, My Lord."
"Just be useful. As long as the manor runs smoothly, that's enough."
"Yes."
Mylene bowed deeply. At that moment, a sudden, sharp thought crossed her mind. New maids would arrive. They would help with the cooking. They would clean. They would do the laundry. If that happened, who would brew the Master’s tea? Who would help him with his coat in the morning? Her heart gave a small, restless thud.
"...Um, Master."
"What? Another complaint?"
"No... It’s just, even if the staff increases, would you please allow me to continue handling your tea and personal needs...?"
Clarice’s eyebrows twitched. Vain looked entirely baffled.
"Anyone can brew a cup of tea."
Mylene found herself putting a bit more force into her voice.
"Please, leave that to me."
Vain looked at Mylene and tilted his head.
"Well, I've never had an upset stomach from your tea. Fine, I'll leave it to you."
"Thank you very much."
Mylene felt a rush of relief. But then she realized she wasn't sure exactly what she was relieved about. Was it that she didn't want her duties taken away? Or was it that she didn't want to yield her place near her Master to someone else? As the thought occurred to her, her cheeks grew hot.
Clarice gave a soft laugh beside her.
"Mylene, you can be surprisingly possessive when you want to be."
"I—I didn't mean it that way..."
"It's fine. A head maid needs to have a bit of a backbone."
Head maid. Mylene still wasn't used to the ring of the title. But Vain’s voice, calling her excellent, echoed in her mind.
"Mylene," Vain said, returning his attention to the ledger. "Don't collapse. If you do, my tea will be late. Also, my life of decadence will slip further away."
"...I don't quite understand that part."
Clarice sighed in exasperation. "Your dream just slipped away again, didn't it?"
"Why? I'm increasing the staff. Logically, that should bring me closer."
"It's because you're picking up more competent people. The work grows, the responsibilities grow, and people start putting down roots. That's the direction this is going."
"I can't accept that."
Vain looked genuinely disgruntled.
"Master. As the head maid, I will ensure this manor is kept in perfect order."
"Keep it cheap, I beg you."
"Yes. However, I will not skimp when it comes to your tea, My Lord."
Vain made a face he couldn't quite name. This time, Clarice truly laughed. Mylene clutched the granary key against her chest. The key that had been a mark of suspicion in her old life now felt heavy with the weight of responsibility. It was scary. But she didn't want to run. She could still work in this manor. Just knowing that made Mylene's footing feel far more secure than it had that morning.