Bernard was an indecisive man. He had simply been lucky to be born the eldest son of a count’s house…

Having once been pushed around by his enterprising and warlike father, Bernard was now being dragged around by his brilliant eldest son.

“You’re always so irresponsible.”

“What?”

Bernard’s relaxed expression twisted at Marisa’s words.

“Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Then why didn’t you stop him yourself?”

“Would he listen to me when he won’t even listen to his father?”

Though Marisa was no more capable of standing up to Cedric than Bernard was, she still blamed everything on her incompetent husband.

They’d soon have a daughter-in-law, and this made them look unfit as parents. A perceptive woman would quickly realize who held the real power in the household. Then, as the mother-in-law, she would be disrespected and the house would be taken over—or so Marisa thought.

When she chose Bernard from among the suitors her family had suggested, it was for his decent looks and his title as a young count.

At the time, she’d been so blinded by the title of count that she had no idea Bernard would be this indecisive and get pushed around even by his own child.

“What is always the problem with you?”

“And do I not look like a problem? We’ll be getting a daughter-in-law soon!”

Marisa burst into tears out of frustration.

Bernard, unable to follow Marisa’s train of thought, was dumbfounded by the sudden mention of a daughter-in-law.

“Anyway, Cedric said he’s going to use a Whipping Maid!” Bernard shouted as if exasperated.

“There’s no need to worry. I plan to use a Whipping Maid to administer the punishment instead of Judith.”

Whipping Maid…

When the words left Cedric’s mouth, both were momentarily speechless at the old-fashioned term, something only used when they were young.

But they soon gave their consent.

There was no reason to object to punishing a maid in Judith’s place.

“Then should we choose from among Judith’s personal maids…?”

At Bernard’s suggestion, Marisa immediately agreed. “T-That sounds good. She’s had two maids serving her for years now.”

Bernard said, “Let’s do that, then. In that case, we can go now, right?”

Compared to the worry that Judith might be sent to a convent, this wasn’t the worst-case scenario. Besides, Cedric didn’t seem intent on treating his sister too harshly.

That should’ve been enough, yet Bernard couldn’t understand why Marisa was throwing such a fit.

“So we just go along with whatever our eldest wants?” Marisa shouted through tears.

Whether it was right or wrong, she was already irritated that things were being done Cedric’s way. Marisa felt she was still too young to hand over power to her future daughter-in-law.

Seeing the clueless look on her husband’s face, who didn’t even understand why she was crying, only made her chest feel tighter.

“If it’s going to be like this, I should’ve married Baron Divos instead.”

Marisa sulked and muttered to herself as she turned away.

Baron Divos had been one of the final suitors considered alongside Bernard. Though he was slightly below Bernard in rank and looks, his personality had been manlier…

Lost in thoughts of Baron Divos, Marisa didn’t notice Bernard had come up right behind her, fuming with rage.

In an instant, Bernard grabbed Marisa’s hair.

“Ah! Aagh!”

He dragged her, thrashing, and threw her onto the bed.

“Let go! Let go of me!”

“You missed him that much, huh?”

“Yes! I missed him! So what?!”

At Marisa’s defiant cry, Bernard lifted her skirt, pulled down her undergarments, and slapped her butt.

“Ack!”

“You don’t respect your husband, do you?”

Something hard pressed against Marisa’s bare backside.

Feigning reluctance, Marisa raised her hips to make penetration easier. Their intimacy the previous night hadn’t been bad.

“Ahh!”

Soon, moans spilled from her lips.

The two burned with passion, as if they hadn’t just been fighting.

***

The top floor of the three-story mansion, in the most secluded corner, was where Sheila’s room was located. A low bed was placed along the sloped ceiling, shaped by the roof’s incline, and a long workbench was set up along the opposite wall. Sheila sat at one end of the workbench with a rather serious expression.

Let’s see…

‘This month, I earned 360 leras from washing maid uniforms. That converts to 1 solid and 10 denis, and the bribe from Uncle Tom is usually 1 solid, but he gave me an extra 10 denis a few days ago… That alone makes 3 solid. Adding the income from various odd jobs, I made 18 denis more than last month!’

As she cross-checked her ledger and cash with a grave look, Sheila broke into a proud smile at the larger-than-expected total. Three years ago, she had been lucky enough to catch on to the diluted milk scam and had since committed minor misconduct, but most of her earnings came from honest side jobs.

If she had been a kitchen maid, she could’ve hoarded leftover meat scraps and sold them too.

Sheila sighed in mild regret but quickly shook it off. What good would it do to dwell on what she didn’t have?

Maid wages were satisfactory compared to other jobs, but since she sent 90% of her income to her brother back home, there was barely any left after living expenses. Even working day and night, there was a limit to how much she could earn targeting fellow maids in similar financial situations.

Despite knowing this, Sheila had quietly walked this path for three years. She could’ve made better money targeting wealthy nobles, but she wanted neither entanglement nor their attention.

No matter how small the sum, it would add up. At this rate, she would reach her goal in two years. With just her regular wages, it would’ve taken ten—her side jobs had cut that time in half.

Of course, even after hitting her savings goal, she would need to continue working as a maid to support herself in old age. Maybe then she could transfer to another estate. Somewhere more comfortable, without Judith, perhaps…

Even now, she could transfer if she really wanted, but finding another estate of this size would be difficult. One wrong move could jeopardize her entire plan.

A count’s estate of this scale allowed her to run side jobs among the staff and squeeze small sums from Uncle Tom. She’d built her base here. Leaving before reaching her savings goal would be a waste.

So until then, slow and steady.

Oh, right. Now that Cedric was back, she just had to stay out of his sight and endure two more years.

It wasn’t that hard. She’d lasted over four, what were two more?

Still, she suddenly remembered the voice that had echoed through the dining room.

“As always.”

Considering the context, it was clearly directed at Judith.

“A mess.”

Yet, it had felt like his gaze had landed on her.

Cedric, then and now, could freeze her with just a word. As if being a maid wasn’t already hard enough, the return of Cedric made Sheila sense it would only get harder.

‘Sister…’

Sheila thought of her sister Fabiola.

Whenever things got tough, she habitually thought of her older sister. A few years ago, her biological sister had been forced into a marriage she didn’t want…

***

Fabiola had married when Sheila was fifteen.

“Brother, I’ll go out and work. Mr. Chandler said it’s okay. He told me to come help at the general store.”

Fabiola had pleaded when her brother Fred suddenly told her to get married. Fabiola had just turned nineteen, just of marriageable age.

But their father had passed away not long before…

That spring, their father had died in a work accident, leaving the three of them orphans. Though Fred and Fabiola were adults, having lost their mother at a young age and now their only father, the emptiness was immense.

In such circumstances, Fabiola couldn’t simply accept Fred’s order to marry and leave young Sheila behind.

She could more or less guess why Fred was doing this.

It must be about money…

He had probably taken money from an older man living in Holger Road in exchange for handing her over.

Fred, the eldest, had always had a lazy streak. At least when their father was alive, he pretended to go to work with him, but after their father’s death, Fred quickly showed his true colors.

“You want me dead out there too?”

Their father’s death had become Fred’s excuse.

He stopped working and hung around taverns all day. In no time, he burned through what little money they had saved.

The small crops Sheila and Fabiola managed to grow only produced enough food for the family. Fabiola had just secured a job at the village general store after pleading for the opportunity.

But words meant nothing to Fred.

“When Father dies, I take his place. Don’t even think about going outside and selling your body. Just do what I say and get married!”

While little Sheila slept soundly, the two argued nonstop. No matter what Fabiola said, she couldn’t change Fred’s mind—he had already made a deal.

The next day, with puffy eyes, Fabiola forced a smile for Sheila.

“Sheila, I’m getting married. To Mr. Duker, who lives on Holger Road. He’s a butcher.”

“Holger Road?”

Sheila’s eyes widened in shock. Then, upon realizing her sister was marrying into another district, she burst into tears.

“No. Don’t go. If you leave, what will I do?”

“Sheila.”

Fabiola pulled Sheila into a hug.

“It’s Fred, isn’t it? He’s making you do this. If he wants to get married so badly, he should go himself!”

Sheila cried out. Fabiola didn’t know where to begin explaining to her little sister.

Fabiola stepped back and looked into Sheila’s eyes.

“Sheila. Never say things like that in front of Fred.”