Chapter 36

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Sowing Discord
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I had only taken a few steps past her when I saw Mago, staring at me with a brazen gaze.

After being ordered to lie low by my stepfather, she’d been quiet for a while, but it seemed she was stretching her wings again. No, even if she had remained still, the girls beneath her would have been buzzing about like worker bees, so perhaps it was an even better time for her to simply observe.

“Lady Roena…”

Despite not having seen me in a while, she still didn't even offer a greeting. She only cared for Roena’s well-being.

“Don’t say another word.”

I cut her off before she could even finish opening her mouth. Then I asked Mago, whose face was contorted in disbelief.

“I was wondering why Marie’s neck was so stiff, but ah, now I see you and it all makes sense. Are you afraid your brittle old neck bones will snap if you bend your head to greet me? Is that why you stand so rigidly?”

“Lady Cisse!!!”

“Step aside. How dare you block my path? As the head maid, how can you act with such a lack of decorum? You should be ashamed.”

If she’s so worried about Roena, she should run and wipe her tears, not pick a fight with me. Disgusting old hag. If I could, I would kick her decrepit legs out from under her. But I forced myself to endure.

Even if I were to push her over, it wouldn't be on a flat corridor like this. A sloped staircase or a window might have been another story, but this place was too safe, too visible. I had no choice but to postpone the opportunity for later.

Instead, I lifted my chin like a triumphant cat and swept past her, pretending not to care in the slightest what she was feeling or thinking as she watched me.

Returning to my room, I reclined languidly on the chaise longue. I observed my two maids; Seril was filling a basin with water for my evening wash, while Marie was arranging various cosmetics and powders. I idly traced the pattern on the carpet with my fingertips before suddenly looking up and calling to Marie.

“Marie.”

“Yes, Young Miss.”

“Do you know of a balm made from myrrh, rosewater, and pieces of cactus?”

In my past life, around this time, a new balm, makeup technique, and dyeing method had become all the rage. At a household of the Vischwartz's stature, such news should have spread, and the maids should have been trained on it. So I tested the waters, but Marie seemed completely clueless.

“No, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Really? What about the rumor that sprinkling a powder of dried iris and narcissus root on your hair can turn it blonde?”

“Was there such a rumor?”

I muttered in a disgruntled tone.

“What is it that you *do* know?”

Seril, who had been pouring water into a silver ewer, spoke up cautiously.

“Um, I have heard about the method for making hair blonde. It’s trending among the young ladies these days.”

I asked Seril.

“Where did you hear that?”

Seril hesitated for a moment before answering.

“From the girls who serve Lady Roena.”

I turned my gaze back to Marie. She stood there with a pale, shocked face, which made the bite marks on her lips stand out starkly. Her trembling eyes betrayed her tumultuous, disbelieving emotions.

Finding her reaction amusing, I let out a low laugh with a mischievous look on my face.

“Oh, you poor thing. It seems you’ve been completely ostracized. To the point that you aren’t even passed such basic information.”

“Ah, Young Miss, I… that is, I…”

“Yes, yes. I understand completely. Of course, I do. How heartbroken you must be. But, Marie.”

I rose from my seat. Walking over to the girl, who stood frozen, I took her hands and spoke affectionately.

“Perhaps I might be able to help you. What do you think?”

I could wager that something very amusing might happen. If only things go as planned.

I smiled at Seril, who was nervously darting her eyes about from behind Marie’s back. It wasn’t just Marie I needed for this plan, which made Seril, watching me so cautiously from the back, all the more endearing.

In the world of the maids, Mago was an intimidating queen. Since taking charge of their training as head maid, she had intensified the severity of her punishments, making everyone tremble in fear.

This impossibly strict old fox would punish mercilessly if something didn’t suit her taste, yet she was remarkably lenient with the maids she favored, earning her silent resentment.

Those who curried favor with her and flattered her were assigned to rather comfortable sections, while those who didn't were tasked with menial chores in places like the laundry or the kitchen.

Marie was not one of those favored by Mago. She had simply squeezed into the clique Mago doted on, worked hard to please her, and was assigned to me as a reward.

Marie wasn't clever, but she had a cunning that allowed her to devise petty schemes and the audacity to carry them out. Schemes like the ones she had used against me in the past, which would have surely worked had I not known the ways of the nobility.

Marie tried to be utterly loyal to Mago, the de facto ruler of the maids, and this loyalty manifested as the torment she inflicted upon me.

Therefore, had I not tamed her and gained the upper hand, Marie would have continued to act as she always had, with insolent arrogance.

Marie’s failure led directly to Mago’s confinement. For the faction that followed her, there could have been no greater shock.

Thus, they developed a hostility toward Marie for failing at such a simple task, which escalated into ignoring and ostracizing her. They had banished her from their world forever.

Even for Marie, who had endured the subtle shifts in atmosphere among the maids, the whispers behind her back, and the veiled insults, the state of ‘isolation’ must have been unbearable.

She was deeply saddened by the fact that information passed to Seril never reached her. It was the fear of her sudden reality of being ‘alone,’ and the rage toward the other maids who differentiated between her and Seril.

“Perhaps…”

I whispered, moistening my lips with my tongue. At the same time, I patted her gently as if to comfort her.

“It might be jealousy.”

“Jealousy?”

Marie’s cheeks were slick with tears. I dabbed her face with a handkerchief and nodded.

“You’ve been receiving rings, money, all sorts of allowances from me lately, haven’t you? You sprinkle it around to the other maids as if showing generosity, so of course they’re jealous.”

I had ordered Marie to become a shepherd and gather the scattered, pitiful lambs of the Vischwartz estate. I would ask her for a report several times a day, and she, if only out of fear of my nagging, was faithfully carrying out my command.

At first, only one or two would listen, but now their numbers had grown enough to form a group that could be called ‘someone’s faction.’

From Mago’s perspective, Marie gathering the maids must have been an eyesore. Her lavish spending of money from an unknown source would have been suspicious as well. Perhaps she had even guessed that I was behind Marie.

“But…”

“Marie, if a maid suddenly started spending money like water or showing off rings she received from her lady, how do you think you would feel?”

“I’d be envious. Yes, I think so.”

“And what if that girl spends her money lavishly on others, but doesn’t show you the slightest bit of interest? How would you feel then?”

“I’d be angry. And upset.”

“And on the other hand, you’d think, ‘I want to receive a ring, too. I want a bracelet.’ Now, think carefully. Among the maids who serve Roena, has any of them ever boasted about receiving something from her?”

At my words, Marie lowered her eyes, lost in thought. A moment later, she shook her head and smiled faintly, her face glowing with a mixture of smug pride and superiority.

“You’re right. I think you’re right, Young Miss. Goodness, how could they be so wicked?”

“But you are different from them. You possess a kind and generous nature, don’t you? So you can surely show them mercy.”

“But how?”

“Oh, Marie, that is a very simple matter. Just think what would happen if you threw a delicious pie to a group of starving people. The strong ones will take the large pieces, while the relatively weak will barely manage to pick up the crumbs. You just need to embrace those who eat the crumbs.”

Until now, Marie had been the one in that group picking up the crumbs of Mago’s favor.

But with her gone, who would take her place? It would be another maid, someone ranked slightly higher than Marie but who was looked down upon in the same way.

Affection can never be distributed equally, so there was always a relative underdog. Marie would become the pioneer who embraced those underdogs.

“Don’t forget. Mago is very old and frail.”

Marie beamed with joy and answered energetically. She then glanced at Seril, and that brief look was so packed with superiority, pride, and childish jealousy that I almost scoffed.

Having finished, I instructed Marie to prepare the beauty balm to be applied to my face before bed.

This concoction, which required the effort of mixing powder, perfumes, and pearl dust into rosewater, could only be spread on the face once it had thickened to a viscosity that prevented it from dripping.

It was known among young ladies to have a whitening and refining effect on the skin, and was now a common nightly ritual.

She glanced at Seril with a slightly anxious expression before reluctantly moving away. I called out to Seril, who stood respectfully behind her, in a gentle voice.

“Seril.”

“Yes, Young Miss.”

“Don’t you have something to tell me? Unlike Marie, you seem to get along well with them… Am I mistaken?”

Seril tilted her head, avoiding my gaze. Her eyes were trembling faintly, and the veins on her clasped hands bulged, stark and blue.

Seril must be lost in a great internal conflict right now, caught on the line between Mago and me, Cisse Vischwartz. She surely couldn't make a decision easily.

If she chose Mago, the memory of the pain I inflicted would make her afraid. If she chose me, the thought of gentle Roena’s face would torment her.

I watched Seril with a leisurely expression, feigning nonchalance. No, in truth, I was nonchalant. I had never trusted Seril from the beginning.

That's right, I couldn't trust her. Wasn't she the wench who had cackled and mocked me until the very end in my past life? To acknowledge her after just a few instances of obedience would be no different from declaring myself a fool.

I was merely curious. I wondered what residue my series of actions had left within her. Was it an inescapable fear? A scar she could overcome? Or was it a bitter resentment, deep enough to hide her feelings and bide her time?