Even when other maids thanked her, Sheila drew a line and insisted it was only because of the money.

As a result, she ended up with the image of someone who cared only about money.

When really, she was just embarrassed.

Other maids grumbled and called Sheila “Donmisae,” but Molly did not.

Under Molly’s pitying gaze, instead of saying she was fine, Sheila suddenly started a strange set of exercises. She shook her arms, legs, and backside comically, then whirled one arm, and at the end smacked her own bottom with a pop!

As if she had never worried, Molly burst into giggles.

Fortunately, no one was in the corridor.

‘Anyway, she sure plays differently from how she looks.’

Sheila had a slender body that looked like it might be blown away by the wind and a fair, pretty face. On top of that, she gave off a faintly forlorn air. Contrary to the expectation that she would be as prim as her pretty looks, Sheila had an easygoing personality. And she worked like a scrapper.

Even so, after working together for a long time, there was no way Molly did not know that Sheila’s skin was naturally delicate. Even when they were hit the same by Judith, Sheila swelled up more or bruised more.

It must hurt more, too… Just as there are people with unusually good tolerance, there are those on the other end.

Whether unfortunately or fortunately, it seemed Sheila had learned that her skin was delicate after becoming a maid. In other words, she had not grown up being beaten as a matter of course since childhood.

In households with a strict father or older brother, growing up with beatings was common, but apparently Sheila’s family was not like that. She had definitely said she had an older brother…

One day, when Molly said he must be a very kind older brother, Sheila had only smiled silently.

At any rate, since even her skin was delicate, Molly thought it an immense relief that the severity of the beating had not been that great.

On the day of Judith’s first lesson, Molly had also been full of worry. She had had no sense at all of what sort of disposition Cedric had.

From his intellectual looks, he did not seem the type to flog ignorantly, yet from the cold chill he gave off, he seemed like he might turn ruthless without mercy.

In any case, only after seeing Sheila so bright did Molly’s heart grow lighter.

***

When Judith returned from Marisa’s room, Sheila was busily cleaning the room alone. As Sheila greeted her with “Have you returned,” Judith abruptly asked,

“Sherry, can you write?”

Sheila answered after a slight hesitation, “Yes…, miss.”

Since the contract incident, Sheila’s pride about being able to write had been somewhat dented.

“Write.”

Not knowing Sheila’s feelings, Judith personally handed over her pen and paper.

“Um… then what should I…?”

“Just. Words you know.”

At the young lady’s command, Sheila reluctantly took the paper and pen and sat at the table.

Ha… what on earth am I supposed to write?

The only words that came to mind immediately were ones she wrote when keeping the ledger—“laundry,” “milk,” “tablecloth.” Embarrassed that those few words seemed to lay her way of life bare, Sheila hurriedly reached back to memories from her general store days and added the words “jeopsaegi” and “bitjarak,” not even knowing they were dialect for “plate” and “broom.”

Impatient Judith snatched away the paper Sheila had been writing on.

Seeing the crooked handwriting and the strange words, Judith’s face crumpled.

“You call this handwriting…! Ha… this won’t do.”

Going to her bookshelf, Judith flung over a Lotas-language primer she had used as a child and said, “Look at this and copy exactly what I wrote.”

As she opened the primer Judith had thrown to her, Sheila thought,

Surely she isn’t going to make me do something odd?

Because Cedric’s lessons included the basic culture subject of the Lotas language, Sheila felt uneasy. But without daring to ask the thirteen-year-old young lady’s deeper intention, she began to copy Judith’s handwriting.

In fact, opening the young lady’s notebook for the first time, Sheila could not help being startled.

Judith’s script was truly exemplary. It was neat and dainty, worlds apart from Sheila’s handwriting learned from Chandler.

It was only that Sheila had not known all the details of Judith’s study habits; Judith was quite earnest about penmanship. To begin with, the act of “writing” letters used the body rather than the head, and handwriting was something visible to others. In other words, more than filling her head with knowledge, Judith devoted herself to writing pretty letters that could be seen, akin to concentrating to choose an even prettier dress.

Of course, that concentration did not last long. Judith would fuss over things that did not matter, and when the lesson seemed to be dragging on, she would soon let her mind wander. Before she even knew what she was thinking, the lesson would be over amid a jumble of random thoughts.

‘If you only looked at the handwriting, she would be a perfect honor student…’

Looking back and forth between Judith’s handwriting and her face, Sheila clicked her tongue in pity. Of course, only in her heart…

Though quick with words, Sheila could barely write even easy words; she gripped her hand tight to write a foreign language that had never been in her fate.

Although the language was different, the letters of the Beloica kingdom and Lotas were the same. The only difference was that, in the case of the Lotas language, various marks were added above the letters to express their language precisely.

Even as she wrote words she did not know, Sheila carefully watched where the diacritics were placed and wrote on.

Molly, who came in from doing other work, looked startled to see Sheila sitting at the desk, but quickly grasped the situation in rough outline and finished the cleaning Sheila had left half-done.

***

Following Cedric’s orders, Judith did not take a nap. But that did not mean she went to bed early either. In fact, she was fussier than usual before falling asleep.

She must be tired too…

That was what Sheila thought to herself.

It was less about understanding Judith and more about finding comfort in thinking that way.

Once Judith fell asleep, Sheila dragged her exhausted body toward her own room. She was just about to climb the stairs to the third floor when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey there, pretty.”

Seriously, does he never change that line…

Confirming that no one else was in the corridor, Sheila forced a smile and turned around.

“You mean me, Young Master Allen…?”

Even after confirming they were alone, Sheila could not help but ask. She was not thick-skinned enough to just answer “Yes! Young Master” when called “pretty.”

“Who else would it be besides you?”

Allen, his handsome face as bright as ever, gave her his usual sly smile.

Ha, really…! Don’t use that good-looking face like that!

Instead of answering directly, Sheila responded with the most formal maid’s smile she could muster.

“Is there something you need me to do…?”

But he was not easy to deal with either.

Allen ignored her question and stepped closer.

“This afternoon, you were cute.”

He whispered it suggestively and tapped her on the butt.

This bastard…?

The moment Allen crossed the line, curses rose in her throat. At the same time, she remembered dancing in the corridor earlier.

Don’t tell me… he saw that?

That was just a dance to reassure Molly. It was not a dance to court you! Of all the rotten luck, why did it have to be this brat who saw it…

Sheila dropped her formal smile and said, “If there’s nothing you need, I’ll be going upstairs now.”

The moment she turned to leave after a polite bow, Allen grabbed her slender wrist.

“Wait!”

Sheila looked at her captured wrist, then at Allen’s face in disbelief.

“No need to be so wary. I’m not cold like my brothers.”

I know. So could you let go?

Allen lifted her delicate wrist as she tried to pull it away.

“Aww, you’re so skinny. What are we going to do with you?”

What’s with the unnecessary concern…

Sheila was dumbfounded by his meddling.

As Allen said, thin women like Sheila were not popular in Beloica. It was believed that a woman should have some flesh to bear children well and manage a household.

But since Sheila had no intention of marrying, it was irrelevant to her, and certainly not something for Allen to worry about.

Of course, Allen’s real meaning was probably that when a man showed interest, she should play coy.

“Isn’t Judith making things too hard for you?”

Right. And lately, you’ve been making it worse.

“I have a lot of delicious things in my room. Want to come and eat?”

No, I don’t.

Just as Sheila was about to politely decline as a proper maid should, a voice called from afar.

“Let go of her hand.”

Once again, her savior was Alfonso.

Seriously, why does this keep happening?

Strictly speaking, Sheila had done nothing wrong besides walking through the corridor. But if things like this kept happening, bystanders would inevitably think poorly of the woman’s conduct.

As Allen released her, Alfonso approached.

“What trick were you trying this time?”

Alfonso demanded of Allen.

“What trick? I just asked if she was too skinny to work. Right?”

Allen drawled as if seeking agreement from her. He must still remember Alfonso’s warning from a few days ago.

“Yes, well…”

Not wanting to make the problem bigger, Sheila gave a vague reply. Before Alfonso could add anything, Allen quickly backed off.

“Hurry inside. You too, brother, go on your way.”

In an instant, only Alfonso and Sheila were left in the corridor.