The Peaceful Life Of A Maid Who Hides Her Power And Enjoys It

 

“Huh-hum.” 

I swept at the front door. 

It is early morning and the dim light is slightly peeking in. 

The first task in the schedule given to me as a maid was to clean the front entrance.
There are only three people coming and going, so it’s always relatively clean, but it has to swept every day nonetheless. 

Because that’s a maid’s job. 

“Hum-hum, hum!” 

After dusting, the next thing to do is to water the small flower pots at every step of the stairs. 

In fact, this was originally the job of a gardener, but the distinctions between occupations does not hold any value in this mansion.  In the Weatherwoods family, everyone cleans together, takes care of the garden together, and cooks together.
The reason is that the owner’s wallet is severely deficit. 

“Ahem!” 

I stopped watering the pots and instead shifted my gaze to the iron gate beyond the desolate garden. 

Some guy’s been coughing up his throat for a while now.
If you add the men around him who seem to be his subordinates, the total number is four. 

When our eyes met, he made a very arrogant expression, and anyone could tell he wanted me to talk to him. 

But I didn’t have to come forward. 

Because the maid from the mansion greeted the man across the small garden instead. 

“Are you here again?” 

“Oh, what do you mean again? It would sound very embarrassing to other people if they hear.” 

“Like I said last time, the time before that, and the time before that, we will not be disposing of the mansion.
Please leave.” 

Is he a real estate agent? 

I turned my head and continued watering the seeds I’d bought for cheap at the market.
I don’t really know the name of the flower that will bloom from this seed.
I just bought the cheapest and most filled seed bag.  

“That’s not why I’ve come today.
I must see the new Viscount Weatherwoods.
Please show me into the mansion.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, but the master is currently away.”  

“I’ve heard that three times this month already!” 

“I’m sorry as well.
Master is very busy.” 

A furious answer burst out. 

“Busy, you say! At this point I can’t help but question, is it really true that there is a new viscount Weatherwoodss in this mansion? In over a week, I’ve only seen three employees going in and out of here.
Everyone is talking about this being an abandoned haunted house without an owner.
What’s with the black exterior of the mansion anyway! Don’t you think it ruins beauty of the street?” 

“That does not concern us…” 

“It doesn’t matter! Get out of the way! I can’t stand this any longer!” 

The man raised his hand and shoved the maid on the shoulder, stepping inside the main entrance.
He looked around the small and dilapidated garden and muttered with an expression that looked like he’d chewed on shit. 

“Tsk.
Abandoning such a beautiful mansion like this…hey, maid!” 

 Did he just call me? 

“Why are you staring at me so blankly? Aren’t you coming, huh?” 

The man asked, his arms crossed and an arrogant expression painted on his face.  

“How long has it been since the new Viscount Weatherwoods abandoned this mansion? 2 years? 3 years? 

I answered, recalling Viscount Weatherwoods, who would currently be sleeping soundly in his bedroom. 

“He didn’t abandon it.” 

“What?” 

“He didn’t abandon the mansion.” 

 The man who had been glaring at me with a sullen expression asked again with a newly-found patience. 

“With the way you’re talking…is the health of the new Viscount Weatherwoodss in critical condition? Is it hard for him to move even once a week?”  

No, although he lays motionless for ten days at a time, his skin is definitely as shiny and smooth as a boiled egg.
I answered again;  

“He’s healthy.” 

“Heh, you cheeky-nosed girl.
Do you not know me? Well, it should’ve been obvious.
A maid hired by a mansion like this wouldn’t anything anyway.
I am Baron Fedegail, a close friend of your former, deceased master.” 

So what do you want me to do about that? 

I wasn’t the least amazed and wanted to scoff.
The surprise his words amounted to were that of an ant. 

The Baron has visited three times this month, asking for the mansion to be disposed of. 

“…He asked me for a favor before he died: to help the new Viscount establish his position in the city.
So do not worry and just be honest with me.
Is there anything wrong with the Viscount? As in, is there really nothing I can do to help? Hm?”  

“There isn’t any.” 

The baron, thrilled by the kind answer, opened his eyes wide. 

“Yes, I see! I was convinced by your unheard-of remarks.
There is no new Viscount Weatherwoods here! It’s an empty mansion with two maids.
If the viscount truly lived here, no maid would be able to answer something like that!” 

I can now be sure.
 

This man is a swindler who seeks to acquire the legacy of the Weatherwoodss family for himself.
You wicked man, scoundrel, flea; what the hell are you trying to steal from a house who’s sold even its silverware? 

Bang! 

The baron who forced open the door in a manner unlike any guest, shoved me inside the house. 

Startled by his actions, the other maid followed us nervously. 

“What is this about, Baron!” 

The baron snorted at the maid’s cry. 

“You, go out and keep an eye so that no one enters the mansion, and you, go find something we can use for a beating.
It must be just right.
I also wish to see just how long the Weatherwoodss’ maid can keep her mouth shut.
I will find out what you’re hiding at any cost.” 

“Yes.” 

“I see.” 

At the baron’s order, one person closed the front door and waited in front of it, and one disappea