Chapter 14
Jack tilted his head slightly—then immediately recoiled in horror.
“No, absolutely not! Of course I’ll have a maid assist you. What do you take me for?”
“I was just asking,” Calliope replied with a small laugh, her expression easing thanks to Jack’s overreaction. She sat down at the edge of the bed, more relaxed now.
Jack grimaced, clearly still uncomfortable, then seemed to realize he should probably go and summon someone. He pointed toward the door.
“There’s likely an interim maid assigned to you already. I’ll go bring her in.”
“Take your time.”
“Is there anything else you need? I can bring it with me.”
“I’ll need a nightgown and a dress for tomorrow. Please have them set out in advance.”
“Understood.”
Once Jack stepped out, Calliope was left alone in the large room. Only then did she begin to properly look around. This was the room where her mother had once stayed, if only briefly. It was nothing like the run-down, storage-like house they had lived in together.
The sofa, the bed, the shelves, and cabinets—everything here radiated understated elegance and quiet luxury, far beyond anything she had expected. Items so refined they seemed to prove their worth through subtlety rather than excess.
Someone else might’ve been moved to tears by the sudden change in circumstances, overwhelmed with gratitude. But not Calliope. Not even a flicker of joy.
To her, this was just the starting line of a long and grueling war. She had only taken her first step.
Creak—a soft sound interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head toward the door and saw a glimpse of red—something like a ball of yarn peeking through the crack.
No… not yarn. Calliope quickly realized it was hair.
“Who’s there?”
As soon as she called out, the frizzy red hair bounced and disappeared. Small footsteps hurried off down the hall. Calliope walked over and peeked into the corridor, catching the back of a child disappearing around the corner.
“Ah. That must’ve been her.”
“My lady?”
Just then, Jack returned, holding the requested clothing, accompanied by a maid. His voice was slightly puzzled as he noticed Calliope staring toward the hallway.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing.”
She stepped back into the room and returned to the sofa. Jack followed, two dresses in hand, and introduced the maid beside him.
The girl had plain brown hair and matching brown eyes. She looked to be around the same age as Calliope—perhaps sixteen. Calliope immediately recognized her.
It’s her again. That girl. She had been her interim maid in the past as well. Whether they matched her age deliberately or simply left the role to the lowest-ranked maid out of convenience, it was hard to say. But Calliope remembered her well.
The maid bowed deeply.
“Good evening, my lady. I’ll be serving you temporarily. My name is Susan.”
“All right, Susan. Even if it’s just for a little while, I’m in your care.”
“I’ll do my very best.”
“There’s no need to try that hard.”
Susan, inexperienced as she was, had done her best to serve her. And back then, once Calliope had been assigned a full-time maid, Susan had quietly returned to her original post. Calliope had missed her, truthfully. Because the more experienced maids—those who had learned to read the room—had treated her like a bastard child, with barely concealed contempt.
What should she do? Calliope studied Susan’s face, weighing the options. Inexperience could be corrected with guidance. And Susan seemed diligent. She’d likely follow instructions well.
“My lady.”
Jack spoke up, and she turned to glance at him, silently asking what it was.
“Your eyes… are kind of scary right now.”
“Mine?”
She tilted her head, confused. Susan, who had a sweet face dotted with freckles, looked like she was about to cry.
“I-I’m sorry, my lady. If I’m not suitable, I’ll find someone else.”
“What? No, it’s not like that. I’m just… not used to having a maid, that’s all.”
“Come to think of it,” Jack said, sounding as though it had only just occurred to him, “you’ve probably never had one before, have you?”
It was true. Calliope had grown up like a commoner. Her noble air—the gestures, expressions, posture—was all natural now, so easy to forget.
Maybe it had been Lady Hubert, Illan’s former wife, who insisted on educating her daughter despite the circumstances. To have raised a child like this with such limited means… if she had chosen to become a governess instead of doing odd jobs, she might’ve lived comfortably.
But Jack didn’t have the nerve to ask about it directly. He left it as speculation.
“Could you draw a bath for me? I’m tired from the long trip. I’d like to sleep early tonight.”
“Yes, my lady. Please rest for a moment—I’ll prepare everything right away.”
Susan disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Jack, now left alone, moved to organize the dresses in the wardrobe. The room, once Ithiel’s, had an enormous dressing room—larger than any other in the mansion. But with only two dresses hanging, it looked strangely bare.
Hadn’t the Marquess combined two rooms just for Ithiel? That’s what Jack had heard. He pushed the thought aside and returned to the bedroom, where Calliope was waiting.
“What’s the schedule for tomorrow?”
“You’re already thinking about that?”
“Well, I am part of the family now. I doubt there’s anything major, but I’m sure there’s something.”
“I haven’t been told anything yet since we just arrived. I’ll check and let you know.”
“No rush. There’s probably nothing important. Just let me know in the morning.”
Hearing her words, Jack pulled a face, somewhere between sour and resigned. Calliope caught the expression flash across his face—so fleeting it was almost missed—and debated whether to scold him or laugh.
“What were you thinking just now?”
“Nothing at all, my lady.”
“Be honest. I won’t scold you.”
“Oh, already threatening me with punishment. A perfect example of a noble young lady.”
“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll expect a full report tomorrow at 7 a.m.”
At her playful threat, Jack folded his arms behind his back and quickly gave in.
“I wasn’t hoping for a vacation or anything, but I did think maybe I could sleep in a bit now that we’re back at the estate… but I guess that’s not happening.”
Calliope thought for a moment. Jack, one of the younger aides under Illan, had been around even in the past. She remembered seeing him fairly often. They’d had a few casual conversations, but she had never formed any real connection. As a child, he was just a little scary. As an adult, just another strict, capable servant of her father.
But meeting him now, in this new life… he felt a bit—
Simple, she thought.
Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, then turning her gaze forward again, she said:
“Let’s meet around eleven. No need to rush.”
“Really? That’s all right?”
“I’ll only need Susan until then anyway.”
“Understood. Just… please don’t suddenly summon me at dawn or barge into my room at sunrise.”
Calliope tilted her head, a little surprised.
“Does that kind of thing happen often when working with Father?”
“All the time. Even on the way to the capital, he was taking reports at dawn.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, there wasn’t any reason you should. It’s not something I needed to mention.”
“…Then let’s meet after lunch. Say, around one o’clock?”
“Perfect. I’ll come after a full meal.”
Calliope stared blankly at Jack’s dull, emotionless tone and expression. He looked like someone who hadn’t slept properly in days.
She hadn’t had many conversations with him in the past, so she hadn’t realized it before—but now that she thought about it, maybe that was exactly it. She remembered being the same way herself—exhausted from studying etiquette and noble customs all night, barely sleeping, running herself ragged.
“For the next week, let’s meet after lunch. For now.”
Jack’s voice dropped slightly as he replied with mock-seriousness.
“You can’t take that back later.”
“And if I do?”
“I’ll jump out the window.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“If I break a leg, I might finally get some time off.”
“…Just go to bed. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Fearing she might change her mind and actually assign him something, Jack darted out of the room. Calliope watched his retreating back with a trace of pity in her eyes. Then, as Susan returned to say the bath was ready, she made her way into the bathroom.
After washing up and changing into her nightgown, she lay down in bed. The servant who had gone to report to the Marquess about the room never returned. Most likely, he’d just been told to leave it be. Not exactly reliable.
The day had somehow felt longer than all her years spent struggling. With that thought, Calliope finally closed her eyes.
The next morning, Calliope woke up at her usual time. With Susan’s help, she got dressed and skipped breakfast in favor of a light tea. The cold brew, rather than warm, chased away the remnants of sleep more effectively than she expected.
After finishing her tea, she watched Susan collect the empty cup and said,
“Go bring the butler.”
“…The butler, my lady?”
Susan hesitated, unsure, but quickly remembered that Calliope’s rank far outranked the butler’s. She nodded and left the room.
Left alone, Calliope took the quiet moment to reflect. She recalled the second day after arriving at the marquis estate. At the time, she’d been hunched on the massive bed in this very room, completely overwhelmed, when a butler came to relay a message from her father:
“You’ll be dining with the family this evening. Please prepare accordingly.”
Back then, the butler had offered no guidance, no advice—just delivered the message and left. She never saw him again before dinner. With only the inexperienced Susan for help, she’d scrambled to pick an outfit and even rushed to skim through books on etiquette. Despite the panic, she’d also felt a little excited—meeting the family, maybe being accepted.
“It wasn’t even lunch yet when he told me…”
Surely, the butler knew how long it took to dress and prepare for such a formal meal. As head of staff in a household this large, he would be busy, yes—but it wasn’t the job of the master’s daughter to accommodate the staff’s schedule.
His job, after all, was to ensure that the family had everything they needed before they even thought to ask.
Illan had made sure Calliope lacked for nothing materially. Her room was lavish, her wardrobe full, her lifestyle secured. But that was all he had done.
