Surviving As A Maid
Chapter 6

The head maid was the type to speak her mind. However, since the day I helped Yurigel see the prince, the way she looked at me was always piercing. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a traitor or a spy and was rather just a soul trying to survive as quietly and as long as possible.

“With Sir Alex back, it looks like we’ll have one more area to tend to,” someone mentioned.

“So what? He wasn’t much work before anyway,” another replied.

Is he a resident heartthrob here? Folding my hands in front of my chest, I mused, “I wish I could be his dedicated maid.”

I had been growing increasingly concerned about how well I was adapting to all the tasks and responsibilities. I wanted to start considering my own life or, at the very least, explore less demanding responsibilities. Despite these worries, I desired to serve him because I could find solace in gazing at his handsome face in moments when life felt overwhelming.

“But you’re already the fox’s personal attendant,” Ellie stated bluntly.

The statement drove a nail into my weak mentality and tendency to escape reality.

A week had passed since Yurigel’s first visit. Following the head maid’s advice, he diligently informed us of his visits in advance, and oddly enough, I always ended up being the one tasked with serving him. While I wanted to believe it was mere happenstance, Ellie’s reaction suggested otherwise.

“It must be a coincidence,” I muttered to myself.

“Hmm... It’s interesting that you think that,” she replied.

I understood the importance of keeping a low profile if I wanted to survive as discreetly as possible. However, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity about Alex, especially concerning his relationship with the queen. It was perplexing that he resided in the queen’s palace despite not being a blood relative to her. I opted to take a careful approach and bring up the topic with a question. Since I had entered Ash’s body, I had been prepared to dodge any questions that were thrown my way.

“But why didn’t Sir Alex show up until now?” I asked.

Once the maids recognized the handsome man’s identity, their interest waned. They began returning to their duties that they had thrown to the side earlier, their suspense resulting in disappointment.

My question seemed to catch Jessie off-guard, but she responded indifferently, “He must be fully recovered now. He can’t serve half-healed as a guard, can he?”

With that, we dispersed back to our respective tasks.

I see... So he is a guard. Reflecting on it, security seemed scant even for a palace within a palace. The guards near the main entrance appeared to be all that were allocated to the queen. Despite the tension between her and the king, it was natural for a personal guard to be assigned to her. However, it was strange that such a high-ranking individual was nowhere to be seen.

Things were starting to make sense. She did have a guard, but he was in the process of recovering from an injury... But why wasn’t a replacement arranged, especially considering the queen’s pregnancy? This place must really be short-staffed.

“Ash,” the head maid called.

I halted after having retrieved the broomstick I had hidden next to the stairs and began to sweep. Her voice made me tense—making me fear Yurigel had visited unannounced again—but her expression suggested something else.

“There’s an empty room on the fourth floor in the east wing. Clean it immediately and thoroughly. It must be spotless.”

Without having to ask, I already had a feeling it would be Alex’s room. Taking my cleaning tools with me, I headed upstairs. With the queen’s room in the center, the prince’s room was in the west wing. So that meant the east wing housed Alex’s room.

Upon opening the door, a musty odor greeted me. I wasn’t being overly sensitive, but the room felt like it had been closed for a long time because the unique dampness of an old room had settled in. Even though the queen’s palace lacked staff, it was strange that such an important person’s room wasn’t regularly maintained, even in his absence.

While reading a manhwa about Victorian maids having romantic relationships with nobility, I expected the system here to be somewhat similar. However, many lower-priority tasks seemed to have been eliminated. Setting down my cleaning tools, I opened the windows first. I drew back the long-closed curtain, welcoming the gentle, rising sun into the room.

Alex Muchter... I remember that name. I had been a devoted reader of The Escape and remembered every line before the queen’s tragic fate caught my attention and she lost her child. Alex Muchter had been the queen’s personal guard who accompanied her from her family home. He was a silent, dignified man and someone the queen could rely on like a big brother.

Then came the day Yurigel lost his way in the garden of the queen’s palace, and Alex had found him before anyone else. Yurigel seemed destined to be adored as he unwittingly captivated the solemn queen’s guard with his mere presence. From that day on, the queen never showed her true feelings to those around her.

As the story unfolded, Alex grappled with his one-sided love for Yurigel, a journey that—if I recalled correctly—ended tragically. He had died before the queen did, but my memory of the later parts of the novel was a bit foggy. My interest waned in sections where the queen wasn’t the focus, leading me to skim through them. The purpose of documenting timelines after a protagonist gained awareness in reincarnation or possession stories must have been for situations like this.

Initially, I thought about documenting what I remembered, but as my focus while reading the novel narrowed down to the queen’s story, my recollection of the later events faded. The narrative was populated with characters either secretly or overtly enamored with Yurigel. Keeping track of these characters seemed futile as Yurigel himself had no significant impact on the queen’s life. Consequently, those infatuated with him were unlikely to play a meaningful role in her story.

Alex’s role had been no different—simply a supporting character destined to sacrifice everything for the love of Yurigel and the king. Characters like us were akin to cubic zirconia or synthetic gems, designed to embellish the story’s central diamond.

Still, the part where Alex found Yurigel lost in the garden had been beautifully written and quite moving. The introduction of Yurigel’s new love interest even had me momentarily excited. However, The Escape had a tendency to intricately describe scenes where men other than King Evans succumbed to Yurigel’s allure. The narrative portrayed these characters as falling in love for beautifully tragic reasons. But alas, such happiness was never meant for Alex.

Still, I’m jealous. Being able to conquer several men with just his looks is something I should experience once in my life too. Where is my buff? When will I get my buff?

What even is my buff?

Time had flown by so quickly, and before I knew it, a month had passed. I had become a professional maid, doing any and all tasks assigned. We were still expected to complete all the duties—even some that maids were not meant to do. Therefore, we ran into problems at times handling these tasks with advanced knowledge, but we managed to make do with what we could.

In our limited understanding, the less strenuous tasks were for maids. In the queen’s palace where a task rotation system was in place, those with pretty faces or delicate hands often found themselves rotated into maid duties. Due to Yurigel, I had mostly been assigned to serving guests. But after a long while of doing the same tasks, I was finally assigned to the queen’s service. It felt like becoming a royal maid.

On one sunny day, about a month after giving birth, the queen seemed to have regained some of her strength. She sat in the assembly hall, holding the prince, and gazed down at a knight kneeling before her. The gentle prince was fast asleep, his soft breaths the only sound in the room. The queen, occasionally patting the prince with an indifferent hand, bore a sadness not typical of a new mother.

If we had been in Korea, or if the queen and I had been closer, I would have recommended a list of postpartum depression counseling centers to her. But this wasn’t Korea, and the queen and I weren’t exactly friends. In a society with strict social hierarchies, acting recklessly for no reason could lead to death. However, her gloomy face seemed to cast a pall of depression over any onlooker.

“Did His Majesty send you?” the queen inquired.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I, Mio Zodiac, swear on my honor to protect the royal prince with my life,” the knight solemnly declared, kneeling on one knee with his sword held horizontally in front of his chest.

Wow! I’m witnessing a knight’s oath! The sight of a handsome man clad in a dark-colored knight’s uniform was breathtaking. I wanted to capture it with a camera right away, but the problem was the pervasive gloom surrounding both the queen and the knight.

The knight had a handsome face that was filled with sorrow. I had a feeling he had a burdensome story of his own. Certainly, I do tend to favor men who appear to have an intriguing backstory and possess a unique aura for their aesthetic appeal. However, when it comes to a knight serving as a guard, the situation is somewhat different.

Much like Alex from the novel, Mio was destined to live in the queen’s palace, but their shared air of melancholy posed a concern for me. Being constantly surrounded by such heavy-heartedness could have a profound impact on my own mood. After all, depression could be infectious, and I wasn’t oblivious to the reasons behind their sadness.

The queen silently gazed at Mio as he made his oath. The knight, in turn, remained kneeling upright on one knee, awaiting the queen’s response. In truth, as a knight appointed by the king to protect the baby prince, the queen’s permission wasn’t crucial. Yet, he maintained his respect for her nonetheless. And that seemed like a wise approach. Even if the queen showed no dislike toward him, any misstep could make his life in her palace difficult.

The queen—her expression like someone sinking in quicksand—slowly lowered her head to look at the peacefully sleeping prince. She then lifted her gaze and glanced around, and our eyes met unexpectedly. Although I had my head bowed, it seemed I had gotten careless. With that, my skills in maintaining a low profile diminished.

Without uttering a word, the queen gently lifted the baby prince, cradled in her arms, toward me. Me? Is she motioning to me? Am I supposed to hold him? I wanted to point at myself for confirmation, but before I could, I caught the head maid’s sharp gaze. Ah, I guess that’s my answer.

I hesitantly took the baby, who felt lighter and more fragile than I had expected, and anxiety surged through me about supporting his neck properly. With no experience with nieces, nephews, or friends with babies, my only memory of holding an infant was from childhood when I failed to pacify a crying cousin. Unsure if the baby was naturally calm or if I was holding him correctly, I was too tense even to breathe normally.

“Hand the baby to him,” the queen suddenly instructed.

I wasn’t certain if the queen harbored any real affection for the prince, but her decision to trust a knight she hardly knew to hold her baby struck me as remarkably bold. Had I been in her position, I doubt I would have had the courage to make such a choice.

Yet, as a mere maid, I was bound to follow orders.

I carefully stepped out from behind the queen, knelt beside the knight, and gently placed the baby in his arms. I sensed that I might soon need to take the baby back to the queen, so I stepped back to afford them some privacy. Alongside the other maids, I knelt down with my eyes fixed intently on Mio.

The prince’s head was minuscule compared to the knight’s hand, which was robust and sturdy. Though he didn’t cradle the child with the awkwardness of some foreign actors who held their children like hot dogs, the baby prince, snug in his white swaddle, seemed as delicate as freshly made tofu in the knight’s arms. The knight, holding the baby with utmost caution, had a deep intensity in his eyes. One of his hands hovered near the baby’s cheek and almost touched it before he opted to adjust the blanket instead.

“I hoped the baby wouldn’t feel uncomfortable in your arms, as you are the one entrusted with his protection,” the queen remarked calmly, observing Mio hand the baby prince back to me.