Chapter 8 : Whispers Behind the Duke's Gate
Chapter Eight
Days passed with an eerie calm, as if silence had settled over the entire world. The stories that once swirled around the House of Schultz gradually faded into faint, distant echoes.
During that time, I tucked away every item in the house that held a memory of my father, placing them where my eyes wouldn’t easily find them. His presence still lingered in my thoughts from time to time, but the ache wasn’t as sharp as before. Perhaps because I was deliberately keeping myself busy—too busy to grieve.
When I visited the post office to inform House Russell that I wouldn’t be able to attend the interview, their response came back as cold as ice, laced with stern reproach.
It took multiple apologies before their head butler finally agreed to let the matter go.
And so, amid all the busyness and tangled emotions, the long-awaited day arrived—my first day at the House of Schultz.
I woke up earlier than usual and prepared myself to depart. The moment I stepped into the carriage, a thunderous voice erupted.
“Well, what business do you have at the Schultz estate, of all places? Don’t tell me you’re the young lord’s secret mistress or something!”
“No! Absolutely not!”
Despite my firm denial, the driver’s suspicious glare forced me to come up with an excuse—I claimed I was a reporter on assignment.
He still looked unconvinced, but seemed willing to accept it, at least partially.
(Next time, I’ll ask to be dropped off nearby and walk the rest of the way.)
The view from the window wasn’t as serene as it used to be, but it still held a certain vitality.
After passing through the bustling city center, we entered a quieter road and began a steep climb. Eventually, we reached the entrance of Evanstein Manor.
“Wow…”
I stepped down from the carriage and looked over the cliffside.
A blanket of pristine snow covered the surrounding forest. From this height, I could see the Muysen River, Popssen Lake, and even the distant ocean—all at once.
Only then did I realize just how high up this place was.
Turning around slowly, I caught sight of the grand front gate, crowned by an extended roof and flanked by cream-colored columns, nestled between tightly-laid red bricks.
I stared up at the eagle emblem of the House of Schultz, carved above the gate, before drawing a breath and stepping inside.
The estate loomed like a fortress, buildings layered one over the other in all directions. Overwhelmed by its sheer majesty, I instinctively shrank back.
I walked a considerable distance and climbed milk-white stone steps until the first person to receive me appeared.
“Miss Edith Prim? You must have had quite the journey. I’m Fret Gunner.”
Oh my god…
I was so stunned that I forgot to even greet him. I just stood there, staring.
Was it a requirement to be this handsome to work at this estate?
His presence made me forget every trace of fatigue. While his aura differed from that of Johannes Schultz, his warm smile carried its own captivating charm.
His dark brown hair was neatly combed, and his tidy attire only added to his appeal.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—he seemed entirely used to such reactions. Maintaining his polite smile, he continued:
“I serve as both the butler of House Schultz and the lord’s personal aide. I’ll be explaining everything you need to know, and feel free to ask me any questions.”
“Oh my…”
I reflexively covered my mouth, prompting a subtle widening of his eyes.
“Have I said something inappropriate?”
Of course not. Quite the opposite.
Even though I was nothing more than a prospective employee, he treated me with complete respect. He wasn’t the least bit annoyed that I had stared or delayed my response.
I quickly waved my hands and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
“No, not at all! I just… wasn’t sure how to address you.”
“Ah. Please feel free to use my name.”
He smiled again—perfectly.
“Then, Sir Fret… Apologies for the delayed introduction. I’m Edith Prim.”
In this world, no one cares about your personal circumstances.
In other words, showing sadness during a job interview is not wise—especially when it’s a job you desperately want.
So I wore a bright, cheerful smile, like someone who had never known sorrow.
“There’s really no need to use ‘Sir.’ But if it makes you comfortable, I won’t mind.”
“You’re very kind.”
“I’m simply offering the courtesy due to a guest of my lord.”
“But I’m not a guest…”
“We haven’t signed your employment contract yet.”
He said it with a playful smile. I returned it, albeit awkwardly.
Honestly, I’d never met a butler this well-mannered.
He then led me on a tour of the manor—or rather, the architectural labyrinth.
It was massive, and its styles varied wildly, from simple to extravagant. Yet, somehow, it all harmonized beautifully—making it one of the most stunning estates in Dotchelia.
From the grand halls to the atelier to the ballroom—no space had been left unpolished.
He showed me the guest rooms, the library, and finally, the drawing room where we would sign the contract.
Even the drawing room was a masterpiece. The arched walls exuded magnificence, and every decorative piece had been placed with care and intention.
I was still marveling at the room when Sir Fret handed me the contract.
“Servants reside in the eastern annex, but since you’ll be commuting daily, I won’t go into details.”
As promised, the weekly wage was one million Berk.
Seeing that number in writing made my breath catch.
While I was still staring at the figure, he asked gently:
“Please let me know if the amount is incorrect, or if there’s anything you’d like to revise. I can consult the master.”
“No, this is more than generous.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
But… wasn’t I supposed to meet the master of the house?
I glanced around and asked:
“Um… what about the young lord…?”
“I believe we need to adjust your form of address.”
“Pardon?”
Seeing my confusion, he explained:
“After the late Duke’s passing, our master officially inherited the title.”
“Oh…”
My face flushed with embarrassment.
I had no idea how title succession worked among nobles.
So really, it was Lord Schultz’s fault for not correcting me earlier.
But Sir Fret was quick to reassure me:
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed. In most noble families, a formal succession ceremony is required before the title is acknowledged.”
Then he stepped a little closer and said:
“As you know, the master is currently considered missing by the public. I hope you’ll keep that information strictly confidential. Do you have any questions regarding him?”
“Just one.”
He waited patiently.
“Was the rumor about his disappearance intentionally spread by the house?”
“Creating distractions is an old trick—but it works.”
“Ah, I see.”
I nodded slowly.
Indeed… at first, the newspapers were full of talk about embezzlement, but now everyone’s focus had shifted entirely to his disappearance.
Rumors abounded—some claiming he’d been kidnapped for ransom, others insisting he had fled abroad.
I had to admit—I was impressed by the cunning of the nobility. Then, I signed the contract.
Later, after I was assigned my own office and was preparing to leave, Sir Fret stopped me.
“Pardon me, may I ask something?”
I turned to him, puzzled.
“Of course, go ahead.”
“Have you ever received etiquette training?”
“…Excuse me?”
My cheeks turned red with alarm.
Was this his way of saying I was… impolite?
Was he going to rescind the job offer?
Did I make a grave mistake?
If I lost this position, I’d have nowhere else to go…
I rushed to explain myself:
“Of course! I mean—enough to get along with others. But… in formal settings like this, I do have to make more of an effort.”
Honestly, I was putting in an enormous amount of work just to appear presentable.
If the head butler was impressed, maybe word would reach the duke.
My father always spoke proudly of me—I couldn’t disappoint him now.
Still… what if I wasn’t good enough?
(If I mess this up, no noble house will ever take me again.)
Trembling, I asked:
“Did I… do something inappropriate?”
He gently shook his head, and I let out a quiet breath of relief.
But then his reply stunned me even more:
“No, not at all. I was merely curious… whether you’d received formal etiquette training for high society.”
