I woke before the sun rose—it was a daily habit of mine. No matter what time I went to bed, I always seemed to wake up at the exact same moment. I suppose that was a good thing; at the very least, it meant I would never be scolded for oversleeping.
After washing my face and tidying my clothes, I checked the duty roster and the message board. Ever since I arrived in this village, these tools had been a lifesaver for someone like me who struggled with a poor memory.
There were eight duties in total: House, Cleaning, Cooking, Village, Village Head, Alfred-sama, Tiselle-sama, and Day Off.
House Duty: This involved handling everything at the Village Head’s House except for the cleaning and cooking. It was often called the "anything" duty. It was easily the most grueling assignment, reaching its peak chaos whenever we had guests. Furthermore, this duty was responsible for providing two people for the night watch.
Cleaning Duty: This was strictly for cleaning the Village Head’s House. It was a role focused entirely on deep cleaning and laundry. While it was fine in the summer, it was quite unpopular during the winter because of the constant work with cold water.
Cooking Duty: This covered the meals for the Village Head’s House. There had been suggestions to make this a dedicated position for those exceptionally skilled at cooking, but the idea had been shelved for now. I always tried my best so that no one would complain they’d drawn a "loss" when it was my turn.
Village Duty: This required leaving the house to provide instruction on cleaning and cooking to the other residents. The High Elves and Lizardmen were easy enough to teach, but the Dwarves were a different story entirely. It was as if they had no intention of learning. They clearly could do it if they tried—the areas where they brewed sake were spotless—but they simply refused. If it were permitted, I would dearly love to punch a Dwarf just once.
Village Head Duty: This involved personally attending to the Village Head. It was both the easiest and the most demanding role. If you let your guard down for a second, the Village Head would start doing everything himself. The job required the art of anticipation; I had to work hard to ensure he never felt my presence was unnecessary.
Alfred-sama Duty: Looking after Alfred-sama was an important role carrying immense responsibility. However, because it offered a chance for him to remember your name, it was incredibly popular among the staff.
Tiselle-sama Duty: This was another high-stakes, difficult responsibility. Those assigned to this duty were instructed to monitor their own health above all else; if they felt even slightly unwell, they were taught to report it immediately so a replacement could be found.
Day Off Duty: A standard day of rest. This was a duty created at the Village Head’s suggestion, but for us, it was closer to torture. We felt restless if we weren't moving. In reality, most of us on a "Day Off" ended up secretly helping someone else with their tasks.
There were two people whose names never appeared on the roster: Ann-sama, our representative and Head Maid, and Ramrias, who was dedicated solely to the Beastman Race. I was a little envious of Ramrias for having such a specialized role.
Today, my duty was the Village Head. I couldn't afford to relax. Usually, two people were assigned to him, but because Alfred-sama and Tiselle-sama’s needs took priority, I was on my own today. It was an unavoidable situation, and I would have made the same decision if I were in Ann-sama’s position. Of course, that didn't mean I was taking my job lightly. It simply meant I had to work twice as hard.
I was determined to live up to her expectations. However, there was one major drawback to being the sole attendant for the Village Head: the outhouse. Since I couldn't take my eyes off him, I couldn't leave to use the facilities. Strictly speaking, I could only go when he did. I had seriously considered wearing a diaper for the worst-case scenario, but my pride won out. Instead, I prepared several bamboo containers. I tried not to think too hard about how they might be used.
After reviewing the roster, I checked the message board. Any urgent communications were written here, but today the board was blank.
I wanted to get straight to work, but I couldn't be hasty. First, we gathered in the entrance hall for the morning assembly. We lined up with military precision before Ann-sama appeared. It was no use if we only straightened up after she arrived.
Ann-sama appeared shortly after and gave a brief greeting. "Good morning."
We bowed in unison. We didn't speak, as there might still be people sleeping. Even though we were women, a collective, energetic greeting from a group of High Ogres would be quite loud. Previously, the rooms were under a perfect soundproofing magic, but the Village Head had grown concerned after someone played instruments late into the night. Now, the soundproofing was much weaker, meaning voices of a certain volume would carry. Thus, silence was the rule.
We listened to Ann-sama's report.
"Last night, it appears a Sake Slime infiltrated the food storehouse. Cooking duty, the creature was caught by the small portions of cooking sake we set out, but please reconfirm the inventory for any damage."
"House duty: I have said this many times, but staying up all night is forbidden. Properly designate the night watch and ensure you sleep beforehand. If you cannot manage this, I will assign the night shifts myself."
It seemed the person on night watch had fallen asleep, allowing the Sake Slime to sneak in. I understood the struggle—night duty involved nothing but staying awake, a form of guarding with no active work. I imagine they ended up doing too much during the day and missed their window for sleep. Just as Ann-sama said, a permanent night-shift post might be necessary soon.
"Alfred-sama is doing well. Tiselle-sama had a slight fever last night. To those on Tiselle-sama duty today: please be extra vigilant."
At those words, the faces of the maids assigned to Tiselle-sama tightened with tension. They weren't afraid of the difficult task; they were visibly delighted to be entrusted with such vital work. How envious.
The report finished, and Ann-sama bowed her head in silence. We returned the bow, and the assembly was over.
I took my post beside the door to the Village Head’s room. I stood to the side; if I stood directly in front, I would be hit when the door opened. Failing that way once was more than enough. Behind me, five members of the cleaning duty stood ready.
If I focused, I could sense the Village Head moving inside. He was approaching. The door opened, and after catching a clear look at his face, I bowed.
"Good morning."
Being the first person to greet him was the greatest privilege of this duty.
"Good morning," he replied, acknowledging me and then the cleaning staff behind me. He was truly a wonderful master.
The Village Head stepped out to begin his morning rounds of the house. As the head of the household, this was his ritual, and I followed at a respectful distance. Simultaneously, the cleaning crew slipped into his room to begin their work.
A maid’s pride dictated that the master should never see us cleaning; perfection should simply be the natural state of his surroundings. Our goal was always to have the room spotless by the time he finished breakfast, as he often returned to his quarters immediately after eating.
Wishing my colleagues luck in my heart, I kept my eyes fixed on the Village Head. Another day of absolute focus had begun.