The Peaceful Life Of A Maid Who Hides Her Power And Enjoys It - Chapter 13

I am proud in saying that I’ve met quite a variety of human figures throughout my life.

In particular, while spending my youth on the battlefield, I experienced various relationships that I otherwise could have never experienced on the Island.

But this was the first time that I…

‘A master made up of an egg…’

I scrutinized the appearance of the egg sitting in the middle of the bed, it seemed to reach half of my height. It’s pretty, but…

‘Is this, by chance, a Weatherwoods family joke?’

While I’m flustered, the real master of the Weatherwoods might appear from some hidden corner of the room. I pretended to be surprised by letting out an exaggerated gesture just in case.

“Oh, my god!”

However, no matter how long I waited, nothing like the real Viscount Weatherwoods appeared. Hmm. Perhaps my reaction was too lame.

I looked at the maid for advice, but I couldn’t bear to open my mouth. The maid’s face was very serious.

Thanks to this, I was able to snap back into the reality that I’d fled from.

A white egg placed neatly on the bed.

‘This egg is really Viscount Weatherwoods.’

I straightened up and faced the egg.

Isn’t this my first time meeting my master as a maid? I have to make a good first impression.

I greeted him, gently sweeping down the shell of the eg- I mean, the shell of Viscount Weatherwoods.

“Viscount.”

You’re so smooth.

Of course, an answer didn’t come. Only a soft beat like the sound of heartbeat transmitted from the inside of the eggshell.

“How do you feel, Ms. Daisy?”

How is it?

“Soft. Warm.”

The maid, who was looking dumbfounded for a moment, covered her mouth and burst into laughter.

It was a little awkward because it was my first time seeing the head maid laugh so loudly.

“You are really…”

Hmm. She cleared her throat awkwardly and looked at the egg with a somewhat relieved eye.

“It was four years ago that I first met the current Viscount Weatherwood. He was really smaller than an egg at the time, but now he’s grown so big so fast that I can barely hold him in one hand.”

He’s been growing for 4 years?

“It looks soft and even if you feel the heartbeat, the shell itself is very hard. You probably can’t even pierce it with most swords.”

Are you sure he’s alive?

The maid whispered quietly as she was looking at my expression.

“Don’t doubt it, Ms. Daisy. This egg was left to me by the former master, who asked me to care of it as his successor.”

“Yes.”

“The Viscount Grey Weatherwoods is the sole heir to my former master. My former master was killed in the Magic War. As a hero of mankind, a model citizen of the empire, the pride of his family. He devoted his entire fortune and himself to the cause for as long as 10 years. He was willing to give up four mansions to the medical corps, and he built nurseries throughout the empire to take care of the children who lost their parents and families in the war. I recall he received several medals throughout his life.”

I slowly pulled my hand away from the egg while the maid smiled softly with her eyes that seemed to reminisce about the past.

‘In the Magic War.’

Midwinterre is a city far from the southern-front, and it had no significant connection with the war.

That’s what war is all about. Although it’s impact may be clear and intelligible on the whole land, even that varies greatly depending on the region.

The citizens of Midwinterre probably only realized the war through the forced conscription.

The smell of death was faint in the landscape of Midwinterre, which was as clean and solid as a complete piece of a puzzle. There were no signs of collapsed buildings, or incinerators where the dead of the war were being burned.

So ever since I settled here, the memories of living on the frontlines became much more distant.

‘Did I run to the former Viscount Weatherwoods in the battlefield? At least once?’

I heard the surname ‘Weatherwoods’ the first time when I came to Midwinterre, but it was possible that I might’ve met him by chance during the war.

If he was truly dedicated enough to generously share his own family’s wealth, we must have encountered at least once.

‘There was a reason why the interior of the mansion was so shabby, unlike a noble family.’

Good people always leave early.

That is the only truth that never changes.

If the former Viscount Weatherwoods had survived, he would have been revered as a hero who made brilliant achievements and raised the prestige of the family. But when you die, you only have medals and honors left.

Furthermore, his only successor is not even a person, but an egg…

“My master even got married during the war. Wasn’t he such a romantic?”

The maid’s eyes shifted to the wall opposite the bed.

When she approached it with the lamp in her hands, the large portrait that had been hidden away in the darkness emerged.

“That is Enert Rosebell. The only daughter and heir of the countess Rosebell. She closed her eyes for eternity soon after my master died in battle, as if to follow him into the afterlife.”

There were a man and woman standing in the portrait.

The blonde man and woman looked relatively normal, except for the fact that they were noticeably young. The high-quality fabric of their attire and their soft expressions exuded the aura that was peculiar to the upper-class.

“If the current Earl of Rosebell dies, the title and property of the Rosebell family will all belong to the master.”

The name Earl Rosebell was familiar even to me. He was an old swordsman who ran about the battlefield with Duke Berkley Grayton.

‘I guess he’s still alive.’

We didn’t have a very close relationship, but the fact that they survived makes me happy.

“In fact, quite a few of them already belong to the Weatherwoods family. The former Countess brought an exorbitant-level dowry. However, due to the pre-marriage contract that had been signed between the two, the Countess’ dowry is tightly bound. No one can access it at the moment; not even the legal successor, Viscount Weatherwoods.”

For the Weatherwood family, bad news seemed to overlap one after another.

“That’s what the assassins are after. News about the Weatherwoods family is very diverse today…they’re suffering from creatively malicious rumors. Well, it’s only natural, considering that the new heir to a well-known family hasn’t shown any activity.”

“The property of the former Viscountess.”

She’s not the only rich aristocrat in the world. You’ve sent assassins multiple times for an inheritance that is restricted anyway?

It’s suspicious.

I didn’t tell the maid, but I think the reason for the assassins was not just property.

“Is there any secrets that I should know?”

The maid who was staring up at the portrait looked at me.

“Is there any secret I can divulge despite your pledge? It’s Ms. Daisy, not me, who should be careful with her words from now on. It feels good to just candidly reveal it all. How hard it has been to keep my silence all these years.”

I turned my head and examined the egg sitting on the bed.

Why do we know the heir to the former Viscount Weatherwoods?

Of all things, why is it an egg? And what’s in this egg?

It would be fortunate if after some time passed, the egg broke and a person was born. But if something else were to be born…

‘No. Common sense doesn’t suggest that.’

Rather, the assumption that the successor was protected inside the shell of the egg was the most plausible.

Worried about an emergency, the Weatherwoods couple hung a “protective shield” over the baby that would’ve been their heir.

If the child can grow up safely inside an unbreakable egg, he will not be threatened by relatives who are blinded by wealth.

In short, this egg was the real heir to the Weatherwoods family.

“Is the story of the Weatherwoods too much for you?”

“Not really.”

“That’s a relief. I did think you’d be fine, Daisy. You’re…a little, uh, weird, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me.”

“Don’t take any offense. Still, Rue is even stranger than you.”

That’s true.

“Daisy seems to be working hard every day, so it’s always nice to see you. I wonder what drives you to live so vigorously, can you tell me?”

It is an unexpected question that somehow feels philosophical.

‘Motivation. Is Dian Cecht’s relic the driving force of my life?’

That’s my goal in life, not its driving force.

I’m not living because of Dian Cecht’s legacy.

Even if I had no hope of healing my soul, I would have lived through the three years I was given. It’s not like you can just decide to die just because you have no goal or driving force, can you?

“Do you happen to have something like that?”

“Nothing particularly comes to mind.”

“I see. That’s why I chose you.”

“…….”

“Usually, people like Daisy don’t betray others. People who are not interested in others or themselves. Come to think of it, it’s sort of funny. You won’t betray me because you’re not interested enough.”

I thought she was mocking me for living life without thinking. The maid’s standard for the judgement of people seemed firm.

As I stared silently, the maid, who smiled a little awkwardly, went back to the bedside and turned off the light.

“I’m sorry, I think I pointed it out too rudely. I hope you’ll generously forgive me. Somehow, I’m talking a lot to you today. Now, it’s late, we should head back.”

We left the bedroom and went back to the first floor.

The maid was going to smoke again after her previous session was disrupted, so she overtook me and went out through the kitchen backdoor. I also followed her out into the backyard of the mansion.

I had some errands to take care of.

“Ah, come to think of it, they’re here too.”

Before she could light the cigarette, I passed by the head maid and plopped my baggage on my shoulder.

One of the assassins tossed and turned and tried to wake up, so I didn’t forget to give him another blow.

As I jumped up on the fence, the maid urgently asked a question.

“What are you going to do with them?”

I’m going to leave them with the assassin-butler for the time being, but I should discuss their punishment in detail with him at a later time.

Considering the specificity of the Eachus mansion, that is, the house in front, it would be best to keep them there for the time being.

The explanation seemed to become longer and longer, so I just answered briefly.

“Store.”

Leaving the pale-faced maid behind, I headed to the Eachus Mansion.

Fortunately, the assassin-butler seemed to readily welcome the existence of the two burdens on my back. Apparently, he was just getting short-handed or something.

A few days after that,

I punched Baron Fedegail, a friend of my former owner, and was accused of assault and intimidation.

I was thinking of doing a mass update for this but can’t really find the time…maybe some other time