A Talented Maid

Chapter 4

What could it be? Marie wondered as she made her way to Miss Susan's room.

“You asked for me, miss?"

“Ah, Marie. Come on in,” Susan greeted her with a smile. This struck a remarkable contrast to the scorn Marie used to get from her daily.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“Not at all,” Marie accepted the praise awkwardly.

“We're all very impressed with your work at the Lily Palace these days.”

“Thank you.”

“Keep up the good work.” She offered words of praise and encouragement, then got to the real business at hand. “I've asked you here to discuss a transfer.”

“Transfer?”

“Yes. You'll be working at another location for a while.”

“Where am I going?”

Susan took a sip of her tea and said, “As you know, Empire Day is coming up soon.”

Empire Day was the biggest event of the year, consisting of a week of banquets and festivals. In a few days, all the maids in the palace would have to work around the clock for preparations.

“Empire Day this year coincides with the death anniversary of the Third Empress, the mother of the Crown Prince. To commemorate the occasion, the garden in the Rose Palace is going through renovations.”

“...”

“It's turning out to be a great deal of work, so they asked us for reinforcements.”

“Will I be redesigning the garden?”

“No, the landscape artists will handle that, Marie. You'll be assisting the gardeners.”

“I see.”

Susan could not make sense of Marie's reaction to the news. She appeared uneasy despite being assigned fairly easy work.

“Marie, is there a problem?”

“No, miss. I'll head over to the Rose Palace right away. Thank you.”

Leaving Susan puzzled, Marie left the room in disbelief.

Garden renovation? Marie thought of the previous night's dream.

‘I'm looking forward to your next piece, Fiona the Devotee of the Gardens.’

Marie wasn't sure, but the character in the dream seemed to be an artist in a field related to gardens.

It can't have something to do with my assignment, can it?

Marie shook her head.

No, the renovations will be handled by the gardeners, and all I'll have to do as a maid is assist them.

There's no connection there, she concluded.

***

The next day, Marie went to work at the Rose Palace.

“Nice to meet you! I'm Marie, a maid from the Lily Palace,” she introduced herself cheerfully to the gardeners, who were getting an early start.

“Oh, she's a young scullery maid.”

“I'm looking forward to working with you, sirs!”

“Oh, there's nothing exciting here,” a man about her father's age said with a warm smile. “We appreciate your help.”

“Yes, welcome.”

“Watch out for the gardening equipment. Don't hurt yourself.”

Marie was relieved by the gardeners' friendly welcome. They belonged to different sections of staff—she in the house out of sight, they outdoors in the gardens—and a young girl was a pleasing addition to the all-male pack of gardeners.

“It won't be difficult work. Just help us with the things we ask,” said Hans, the landscape artist that supervised the renovation.

And he was right. The gardeners did most of the work while Marie assisted them by fetching their meals, doing little errands, and picking up after them. It was truly much easier work than she would have done back at the Lily Palace.

So, nothing special.

There did not seem to be any connection between the new task and the dream Marie had.

This is nice. Easy work.

It was hard being outdoors on a hot summer day, but everything else was good. The best part of it was that the gardeners were very nice to her, even though she hadn’t done much for them.

“Marie, go sit in the shade.”

“You don't want to get a sunburn. We don't have much for you to do now. Get some rest.”

The supervisor Hans, who had a daughter Marie's age back in his hometown, was particularly nice to her.

“These are very good. Thank you for making them,” he said as he bit into the sandwiches Marie prepared.

“Eat up. There’s lots.”

“Sure. Why don't you sit down for a moment, Marie? You were on your feet all day.”

“I'm okay.”

“No, I insist. Sit, sit. No one will scold you for it.”

“Th-thank you.”

Marie lowered herself awkwardly and sat down next to Hans.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

Hans clicked his tongue.

“You ought to feed yourself. You're all skin and bones as it is.”

His kind words moved her. Since the death of her mother, no one had ever worried for her. She had gone to live in the royal palace as the secret daughter of the king, but had been treated as a pariah there. Needless to say, she was treated even more poorly after the kingdom fell and “Marie” became a scullery maid.

Hans' warm words made Marie miss her mother so much that she had to change the subject.

“Landscaping seems like hard work.”

Marie only ran errands, but the gardeners had much to do. They pruned, sheared, planted flowers, and moved flowerbeds; the garden was receiving a complete overhaul.

“Hmm? Yes, it's hard work. But I like it,” Hans said. “We bring happiness to the people who visit the gardens we designed.”

“Bring happiness...” Marie repeated to herself.

It sounded grand.

I wish I could bring happiness to others.

She thought herself to be a small, insignificant person, but wished she could bring happiness to others someday.

Hans sighed and said, “But there are worries in this job, too.”

“Oh?”

“I am doing my best, but I'm not sure if the Crown Prince will like it.”

“Oh...”

Marie's face darkened at the mention of the Crown Prince—Rhaël the Bloody Prince!

The name was synonymous with terror. The son of a third wife, the amount of blood he had spilled on his way to power could fill a river. He was also known as the Bloody Mask, for there was always fresh blood on the iron mask he wore.

Cloyan fell at his hands, too...

Marie recalled the day her palace home had fallen. Brandishing his sword with a bloodied mask, he had looked like a right messenger of the devil.

It's been a long time. He won't recognize me, Marie told herself.

But it was frightening just to think of the prince. And there was no telling what the cruel prince might do if he did not like his garden.

Hans, as the supervisor, could lose his head. The Crown Prince had not taken the lives of his subordinates to date, but a tyrant's sword was nothing if not capricious.

“I don't know much about gardens,” Marie offered. “But I think this looks wonderful. I'm sure the Crown Prince will be happy.”

Hans smiled.

“He won't dislike it. I implemented the vista style of his late mother's country, France, and planned a geometric layout.”

A vista style garden was built around a palace, the symbol of power, with long, straight paths leading out like rays of the sun. Geometric patterns were designed into the details of the gardens.

“I think the design will be okay, but there's a bigger concern.”

“What is it?”

“The statue of the Third Empress.”

“Oh...” Marie gasped. She could guess what the problem might be.

“A statue of the Third Empress will be placed in the center of the garden, but I'm not sure if the Crown Prince will like it,” Hans said nervously. “He was famously devoted to his late mother, who died ten years ago in disgrace. If he doesn't like it, I don't know how I will bear his wrath.”

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

“I ought not to burden you with this. I'm sorry.”

“Not at all.”

“You remind me of my daughter back home, you know. Talking to you is like talking to her.”

Hans rose to his feet and shouted at the gardeners, “Lunchtime is over! Back to work!”

“Yes, sir!”

Watching the men return to their pruning and planting, Marie grew worried.

I hope all goes well.

The garden and the statue all seemed great in Marie's eyes, but everyone had their own standards.

What if the Bloody Prince doesn't like it?

Marie shuddered to recall her encounter with him years ago.

“Where is Princess Maurina? Find her, whatever it takes.”

Holding a blood-soaked blade up high, he had searched for her. If she had not disguised herself as a scullery maid before he arrived, she would have lost her life, for the ruthless Bloody Mask did not seem to have a drop of mercy in him.

If he doesn't like the statue, he will make someone pay.

At the very least, the sculptor of the statue would be punished.

Marie bit her lip.

Hans...

It was none other than the supervisor Hans, the greatest sculptor and landscape artist under the employ of the imperial house, who was commissioned to build the statue of the Third Empress.