Surviving As A Maid
Chapter 8

The Storm

There are just too many bastards in the world. I make a New Year’s resolution every year not to curse, yet I fail to keep it time and time again. Some people can only be described with curses, and some are so vile that even the word “bastard” doesn’t seem to fully encapsulate their wretchedness.

From my very first day in Ash’s body, I had pegged the king as a bastard. It wasn’t a crime to think so. It was a mere thought—one that I always harbored deep within. But now, as I sat on the floor, trembling and clutching a bloodied body, I questioned if such thoughts were sinful. What kind of power and what kind of wretched king could reduce me to this state? Weeping and doubting my own morality...

“Yurigel,” his voice cut through the air, chillingly warm and tender. Even the sound of it sent shivers down my spine, and I instinctively pushed my seemingly foreign body backward.

A bloodied knife clattered to the floor with a haunting clang. The king, seemingly unfazed, gently caressed Yurigel’s cheek.

“Blood splattered on you. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

That bastard. When I had stepped in to replace Sev, who had broken her leg, I could never have fathomed finding myself in such a gruesome scene.

Caring for a baby was one thing—a task filled with unknown fears and anxieties for someone inexperienced like me. But to witness someone bleeding out after collapsing right before my eyes was something I couldn’t have prepared for, no matter what. Had I anticipated this, I wouldn’t have been transported to another world while preparing my ramyun. Instead, I would have set up my own fortune-telling booth with customers lined up out the door.

The idea of entrusting a baby to unmarried, inexperienced maids like us was absurd. The seemingly kind nanny assured me that all I needed was to assist with light chores, yet holding the warm, unexpectedly heavy prince filled me with an immense sense of responsibility and fear. Most of the maid duties had suited me frighteningly well, but this one felt like an unbearable burden. I was contemplating asking the head maid to exclude me from this rotation when Yurigel and the king unexpectedly burst into the palace that sunny day.

There was no time to consider the commotion outside. The king stormed in, stood by the empty cradle, and Yurigel took the baby from my arms without a word. A tumultuous wave of knights and soldiers followed.

Since the queen gave birth, I hadn’t seen King Evans. He had stormed out of her room that day, seemingly livid, and hadn’t come near the queen’s palace since. It was as if the baby was solely the queen’s responsibility. He hadn’t even come to see him, hadn’t given the baby a name, and had seemed completely indifferent to any of the baby’s needs or supplies.

The only fatherly act he seemed to have performed was sending Sir Mio Zodiac as the prince’s personal guard. But who knew if it was Evans himself or just an underling, following protocol, who had sent the knight.

Yurigel, on the other hand, had become a frequent visitor at the palace. I thought his visits were made in lieu of the baby’s father in a way.

“Carmen Dona, is that your name? I believe the queen brought you from her home,” the king had stated.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve been serving the queen since she was a baby.”

What unfolded next shocked me profoundly. The king, charismatic and handsome, drew his sword and stabbed the nanny, Carmen Dona. Until that moment, I had been blissfully unaware of how dangerous the situation was.

I was standing right behind the nanny and witnessed the thick blood dripping onto the floor. It brought back a harrowing memory from an emergency room visit. I recalled a woman who, annoyed with her IV, had yanked it out. Blood surged back through the tube stuck in her hand, spilling onto the hospital’s white floor. The amount of blood was staggering.

“Carmen Dona, you are under arrest for conspiring with a dark magician,” the king declared, pulling out the sword only to stab her again. From that moment, it felt as if the nanny and I were both screaming in unison. The warm blood of a stranger splattered onto me, and I stumbled back, collapsing in horror.

The king, who seemed practiced in stabbing someone, stepped on the nanny’s shoulder, pulled out the sword, and stabbed her once more with an expression of boredom. Blood went everywhere.

Is that sword going to come for me too? No, don’t scream... He might stab me if he sees me. Ash’s past record doesn’t matter right now. I’m scared.

“Take her away,” commanded the king, his voice distant and cold. The nanny, who had seemed like a kind neighborhood lady, was now drenched in blood.

I couldn’t tell if she was having a seizure or if my heart was shaking violently, but she appeared to be trembling uncontrollably. This was my first encounter with such raw, unfiltered violence. I had always seen people get hurt, die, or cry on screens or on paper—never experiencing such brutality firsthand. The nanny was dragged away, still screaming, while I hugged myself and shivered uncontrollably. I wished for a mouse hole to hide in and to disappear and never return.

That bastard.

The king, who had just brutally stabbed someone, now tenderly touched Yurigel’s face, which sent chills down my spine. I hadn’t expected such blatant disregard for human rights, even in an authoritarian kingdom. That was why I had been cautious, avoiding drawing attention to myself and seeking information about this place. I even went so far as to ingratiate myself with Yurigel, knowing that survival was paramount, no matter where I was.

The smell of blood seemed to settle over my entire body, making me feel faint. The nanny might have been guilty, or she might not have been. If she were indeed guilty, perhaps the king’s actions were justified.

But how likely would that be? That jerk stormed the queen’s palace with soldiers twice—just from what I had witnessed. Perhaps even more before that. The king is a bastard. If he were so concerned about the queen using her power against him and Yurigel, he should have at least dug up water and begged a stork to bring him a baby or made a dignified agreement with the queen. He needed an heir but didn’t want to give up his love, yet he was afraid that the surrogate might harm his lover. So, he chose to do harm to her instead? And so violently in front of a child too young to understand, slashing without any restraint...

If only I could have shown him the kind of scene where the impact of a young child witnessing their mother being murdered could determine someone’s future as a serial killer.

Yurigel, still holding the baby prince, smiled delicately as if the blood splatters wiped away by the king were merely petals and not evidence of violence. Suddenly, he joked with me, his words light in this heavy atmosphere.

“I thought you were a serving maid. I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought you went into hiding.”

Yurigel, as beautiful as a sunny spring day, was surrounded by the stench of blood, and I couldn’t stop trembling. His approaching footsteps, echoing louder than those of a reaper, were terrifying. Blood had also splattered on his clean shoes.

I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from his feet. If Yurigel had commanded me to clean his shoes or even lick them clean, in my state of shock, I might have complied. My hands trembled as I sought a clean part of my apron to wipe them, but every inch was stained. In manhwas or TV shows, heroines often managed to tear the fabric in desperate situations, but these robust textiles resisted any such attempt.

“You seem quite startled,” Yurigel remarked.

His smile was tinged with awkwardness as he leaned toward me, holding the prince securely with one arm and reaching for me with the other. Startled? Me? Is he talking about me? I’m startled? Ash is?

“It was necessary to subdue her forcefully due to the risk of escape. You must’ve been very scared,” he continued, gently grabbing my bloodstained hand to help me stand.

For someone as beautiful as spring itself, Yurigel was surprisingly strong, effortlessly lifting me to my feet. I knew I should release his hand, but mine shook uncontrollably. His smile persisted, albeit awkwardly.

Will the nanny die? The king had accused her of conspiring with a dark magician. This country was still at war with a neighboring nation, whose nobles were all dark magicians. In this kingdom, dark magicians were executed without trial. Guilty or not, her fate seemed already sealed.

“Is she the maid you mentioned?” the king asked Yurigel.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I didn’t expect to find her here, but here she is,” Yurigel replied.

Had they talked about me while they were together? Just an ordinary maid doing her job? What could they possibly have said about me?

A knight stepped out from behind the king, retrieving the bloodied knife the king had carelessly thrown to the ground in a rush to wipe the blood from Yurigel’s cheeks. One knight meticulously cleaned the bloodied portion of the knife with a cloth before sheathing it, and another wiped the King’s hands, now stained with blood, with a handkerchief. The scene unfolded in a surreal, disorienting manner, clouding my already overwhelmed mind.

Fearing that holding Yurigel’s hand any longer might attract the king’s wrath, I forcibly let go. The king, his gaze fixed intently on me, grasped my face with a bloodstained hand and turned it from side to side.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“A-Ash, Your Majesty” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

In that room, I was undeniably the most vulnerable—the only one visibly trembling with fear. I found myself wondering about the other maids outside and why the queen hadn’t made an appearance, especially since her room was so close to the baby prince’s.

The king had mentioned that the nanny had long served the queen’s family before coming to the palace. This implied a bond between them. Wondering why the queen had not made her appearance, I looked up at the king, trembling under his grip. His eyes, gleaming darkly, were like polished chestnut shells. They were cold and, yet, contained an underlying sense of playfulness.

As I watched his lips slowly part, a question I had once asked a friend came to mind.

“When did you feel like your life had hit rock bottom?”

“Now that my son has no nanny,” the king declared.

I recalled my friend’s response to the question.

“When I couldn’t submit my application for the teaching exam because there were no openings.”

“I suppose you will do.”

I wasn’t sure why my friend’s situation came to mind at that moment. She had called me the morning of the day I transformed into Ash, still waiting for a teaching position.

“Me? But I... I can’t produce milk…”

Releasing my chin, the king took the baby prince from Yurigel. He held the infant a bit too high for comfort with one hand, an action that struck me as careless, even with my limited knowledge of babies. My body tensed, an instinctive urge to protect the baby surging within me, even as I continued to shake.

“It’s been a month. He won’t need to be breastfed anymore,” he stated simply.

With that, he gently placed the sleeping baby prince into my trembling arms. Remarkably, the prince remained undisturbed, sleeping soundly amidst all the chaos.