The Count and the Maid - Chapter 3

The work given to Shada was very simple.

She was the Count’s dedicated maid.

She serves him, waits on him, prepares meals, makes tea, and cleans.

It was much easier than working at the Princess’s Palace in the past.

Shada savored the fact that she could enjoy her breaks without being harassed, it was delicious.

The salary was good too.

If there is one thing that bothered Shada… Compared to her former master, this owner is so much quieter and kinder.

I have nothing to say when asked what’s wrong with my treatment and comfort, and I have no rational explanation as to why I’m so anxious, but I just sense an uneasy vexing suspicion.

She wiped the window sill and touched the fringe at her neck.

Since Count Kirchner’s had a neat and tidy character, he had an immaculate mansion. He even had the tendency to fix his bed after waking up, and as such Shada had little to work on.

ShadA touched her tender cheeks as she polished an object that little to wipe.

It was where the Princess had vented her anger on. The day after, it had swollen up so much that it had been challenging to see.

I tried to calm it down with cold water, to no avail.

Eventually, I erratically put some makeup over it with my abysmal skills and headed to work, accidentally running into the Count in the process.

As soon as I saw him in a horseback riding suit, I remembered the voice of the butler who told me that the Count went out to ride once a day.

I quickly stepped aside and lowered my head. And immediately, my face lifted up.

Shada stiffened, the Count, who held her chin with his long fingers, frowned. I guess the bruise wasn’t covered.

“What’s happened? Why are you like this?”

“Well… … .”

I was beaten by your fiance for no reason. And I almost died. 

Shada averted her gaze and pinched her lips closed. It was difficult to tell the inconvenient truth, and to lie was also awkward and disloyal.

Thankfully, he didn’t inquire further; maybe he had remembered yesterday’s events. Instead, he asked about something else.

“Did you put on the medicine?”

Medicines for wounds are costly. Commoners who had some money appear to use it often, but Shada grew up so poor that she had to work relentlessly from a young age to make her way to go to the royal palace, so of course, she didn’t have the money to spend on medicine.

In the royal palace, the plethora of people dying thanks to the Princess made it a necessity to have medicine in the maids’ rooms. But Shada, a new maid who had just arrived, did not know how to heal wounds in this mansion and could not afford it.

The man, looking down her loss-for-words expression, used his index finger to sweep over her sore cheeks gently. It was a feathery light touch, but Shada frowned.

It wasn’t exactly painful, but it was anxiety-inducing.

To be exact, my heart was pounding with this handsome face that was too close.

He grinned as she frowned. But he didn’t put his hand down. “Are you sick?”

“… a little bit.” His hands were rough and large; it was natural because he was a knight, but it was unexpected because his aura was of a refined and elegant gentleman.

The bare palms without gloves were vivid on the warm flesh.

His fingertips glided down and brushed my chin and earlobe. Before they fell, I took a step back in amazement. But relief didn’t come. Instead, my wrist was grabbed and dragged.

“Uh!”

“Go and get treated. It’s ugly.” It was a dry and kind tone, but it was unrelenting.

With nothing to add, and not in a position to refuse the master’s orders, Shada kept quiet and went over the Count’s doorstep as he led her.

The Count turned to her, and at the same time, the doors closed behind her back. More impressions of the room came to her full of antiques, quiet lights, dry scents of juniper. The man with a backlight shadowing most of his face was looking at her wound expressionlessly.

It’s natural, not a big deal, and even though the place is calm, I’m weirdly nervous.