Surviving as a Maid

Chapter 3

The title of the novel, as I could recall, was The Escape. It was one of those novels where the title had little connection to the content and a common tale that moved anyone who read it, painting the flawless and beautiful love between the king and his lover. However, there was one obstacle to their love: the queen.

In accordance with tradition, the king had been engaged to her since they were young and thus needed an heir from her. But his beloved, Yurigel, was a man and couldn’t provide him with a child. Consequently, the king was able to offer Yurigel everything except the official title of queen.

Yurigel, as I remembered, had dedicated his entire life and lineage to the king he adored but was unable to give him a child—a fact that was central to the story’s poignancy. The queen’s destiny as the wife of the main character was obvious and tragic, just like any other love story.

The love between the king and Yurigel was so possessive and mutually exclusive that there was not even a nanogram of space for the queen to fit into their relationship. Her role was similar to that of a decorative piece, neglected and pushed to the margins, placed merely to enhance the garden of the king’s lover. Despite being the queen, she entered the palace merely in name, without a wedding or coronation ceremony.

Upon Yurigel’s casual remark about the beauty of the queen’s palace, the king banished her to a secondary palace and gave her residence to his lover. Furthermore, once the king found out Yurigel had envied the queen’s public appearances, he completely banned her from public activities. She remained subdued in her exile to the secondary palace until an accidental encounter with Yurigel and the king in the palace garden led to her further confinement.

If my memory served me right, Yurigel even took her child away after she gave birth. He then raised the child as his own, claiming to envy the queen’s ability to be a mother. Feeling sympathy and frustration for her, I hoped that she would find a way to take revenge against Yurigel as the story progressed. Therefore, my interest waned in the latter half of the story as the king’s romance with his lover became less appealing to me.

Unfortunately, the queen remained wise and kind until she died from an illness. As a reader, it was such a letdown not finding a gratifying plot twist in a fictional book that I had picked up to escape my uneventful life. Considering the epic romance unfolding between the king and his concubine, it seemed that even a slight attempt at defiance by the queen would have sealed her fate. Yet, I had thought, just once, she might have fought back.

Okay, so it looks like I’ve somehow entered that novel. Right, I’ve read about stories like these in fantasy novels. My long-awaited entry into another world hadn’t happened even as the twilight of my youth faded away. And I would never have guessed I’d be trapped in a book much later. I was at a loss for what to do. Never had I imagined needing to escape a world like this when receiving my college entrance exam results. All I wanted now was to return to my own world.

In stories like these, the main characters typically follow the original story while completing their mission to return home. But how do I go back if I’m only a minor character? What is my mission? Do I need to survive safely until the queen falls ill and dies after having her child taken away from her?

I hadn’t been hit by a car or attacked by thugs. I didn’t make a contract with a strange being or fall into a profound sleep either. I was simply preparing mushrooms for my ramyun when, in an instant, I found myself in another world, witnessing the queen giving birth. There must be a way back. There has to be.

By the way, the best ramyun is one that is cooked al dente. When it starts to boil, adding finely torn mushrooms and sliced onions creates a refreshing broth. The mushrooms turn chewy, and the onions remain crunchy. On special occasions, I added sausages, dumplings, or even cheese for an extravagant finish. I was pretty sure I was just about to add mushrooms and cheese to my ramyun when, in the blink of an eye, I found myself in another world as a maid. What happened to my ramyun?

I sat up in bed and clung to the faint hope that when I woke up, I would be back in my kitchen, surrounded by the mushrooms I had laid out on the counter. But that seemed highly unlikely, which meant I had to act fast. The maid’s room was modest and symmetrical, featuring two centrally placed beds, a small nightstand with a lamp, a dressing table doubling as a desk, a chair, and a wardrobe where I had placed my clothes earlier.

The bed and furniture closer to the door belonged to Mina, and the set next to it was apparently mine. Well, it was Ash’s. I remembered seeing Mina touch the lamp earlier. Clearly not powered by electricity, it seemed to respond to the warmth of a finger. I opened the wardrobe after adjusting the dim lights.

Inside were a few maid uniforms and simple dresses with several pairs of shoes placed underneath in a somewhat haphazard manner. The drawers were neatly arranged with underwear and various small items. I searched thoroughly, hoping to find something significant. I even inspected the bottom and back of the drawers but discovered nothing of note.

It’s okay. I didn’t expect to find anything important in here anyway. Closing the wardrobe, I moved on to the nightstand with the lamp. I recalled a visit to a famous hotel chain in Japan where they had Bibles in the drawers. Although I had only skimmed through The Escape, I knew this wasn’t a country intensely focused on religion.

Instead of finding a Bible or something similar, I discovered two palm-sized containers. They were music boxes. A soft melody began to play when I lifted the lid of one. Figurines of a man and a woman slowly rotated as they stood on opposite ends of a round platform and reached out to each other.

It was an unusual design. Typically, one would expect to see entwined couples or perhaps a ballerina in a music box. The two figurines were walking in a circle with their gaze locked and hands stretched toward each other, but they never touched. I put my finger in the gap to connect their hands. It made me wonder if this distance was far from the perspective of the figurines.

As I closed the lid, the gentle tune ceased. The other container was also a music box, depicting people enjoying a picnic under a clock tower. Turning the notch, the figures walked, danced, and drank tea. A collection of music boxes... I collect them too. They were expensive, so I could usually only afford one per season, but these two seemed even more intricate and luxurious than any I had ever purchased.

With such high craftsmanship, they seemed to be quite expensive. Even accounting for the cost of living differences between here and my world, they didn’t seem affordable on a maid’s salary. Considering Ash did not have many possessions, it was strange how a maid like her could afford such luxurious items. The only place left to check was the dressing table doubling as a desk. I sat on the chair and stared into the mirror. I held my breath and half-expected a significant picture or vortex to appear. But nothing happened. There goes my expectations.

Disappointed, I turned my attention to the items in front of the mirror and saw a fountain pen and several bottles that looked like skincare products and makeup. I couldn’t tell which one was toner and moisturizer. A small jar containing a red substance seemed to be for the lips, but it was neither a stick nor did it have an applicator brush. What I really wanted was to wake up at home, but for the time being, I needed to at least know how to use these cosmetics for the next day. However, I had no clue how to do so.

Honestly, it felt more likely that I would wake up to another day of labor as a maid than in the comfort of my own home. Setting the cosmetics aside, I opened the middle drawer first. Several earrings and necklaces tumbled out. They seemed carelessly tossed into the drawer—a habit I could relate to. At least my mannerisms won’t raise suspicions from my roommate.

Apart from that, the drawer contained only miscellaneous trinkets. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but I had hoped to find a diary or something similar. Sadly, I found nothing of the sort. I couldn’t find anything about this world or Ash that I could go off of. Nothing seemed useful.

As I stared into the mirror again, I saw no mysterious mission instructions appear. I was simply cooking ramyun when all of this unfolded. The swirling noodles in the pot surely weren’t a summoning circle from another world. I hadn’t encountered any distressed demons or reapers, making it seem unlikely that a devil’s trick or some cosmic system error had brought me here.

Did Ash call for someone to take over her life? Then... where did the real Ash go? If she hadn’t succumbed to cardiac arrest from the shock of witnessing childbirth, could we have somehow switched bodies? Could she be in my body now, washing mushrooms and finishing my ramyun?

The reflection in the mirror showed me in unfamiliar clothes. It was unmistakably my face with every familiar detail. The same face I had washed that morning, with a mole near my eye and a blemish on my chin, was now framed by hair that reached my waist. Were we so alike that I ended up here? But why did I have to be sucked into this book, of all the novels I’ve read?

While reading The Escape, I remembered shouting like an avid fan of a soap opera, urging the queen to fight back. But I never deeply sympathized with her or intended to seek vengeance on her behalf. I had no idea why it had to be this story when there were others that I was far more invested in.

It reminded me of my college days. I once faced an important exam, but the questions completely missed the sections I had studied. After zoning out for about thirty minutes, I ended up inventing my own questions and answers, leading to a dismal midterm grade in my sophomore year. I at least received some partial credit back then, but I was completely helpless now.

Is the answer the queen herself? Should I just let the story flow as is and let her die of illness? Or should I try to change the king’s preference and detach him from Yurigel so that he can pay attention to the queen?

Neither option seemed morally right.