Wendy had led us away from Madame Avia after receiving a final round of instructions from her, nodding obediently at every word.
I watched her with a faint sigh of disappointment.
Of course. What had I expected? Such a glorious creature simply had to be one of Westwond's loyal dogs.
I wondered what was so wonderful about serving a noble household with such devotion.
Was there some hidden reward for happily scrubbing floors, and tending to the whims of the Westwond family?
It seemed as though I was the only person in this entire household who spent every waking hour scrambling through thick and thin simply to survive another day, while every other servant appeared perfectly content to go about her duties as though death had never once crossed her mind.
We had been walking for some time, yet none of us had said a word.
I was not particularly surprised by the silence, for what could a fully grown woman such as Wendy possibly wish to discuss with a handful of teenagers?
Still, despite the quiet, there was no true tension in the air, at least not from Wendy.
I was not especially nervous around her either, though said can't be the same for the other two girls who have been trembling with frantic anxiety since the moment we left Madame Avia.
I could hardly blame them. Standing before a mature servant who worked directly beneath Madame Avia was frightening enough on its own.
And Wendy was clearly a senior maid whose authority could not be taken lightly.
Any mistake we make, she has every right to punish us.
Though, from what I had seen so far, I doubted she was particularly wicked.
She seemed to be one of Madame Avia's favourites, much as Evelyn was to Madame Marsala.
Loyal, obedient, reliable, and always standing precisely where she was expected to stand and doing precisely what she was told to do.
Loyal dogs of the Westwond household.
I laughed inwardly at the thought, finding the comparison amusing.
Unfortunately, my mind sometimes possessed the habit of entertaining itself at the worst possible moments.
"Oh?" Wendy suddenly spoke. "And what could it be that has made you so amused?"
Eh?
I blinked and turned toward her. She was looking directly at me, a smile of amusement rested on her face.
Wait.
Had I... laughed aloud?
My eyes widened slightly.
I thought the laughter had remained entirely inside my head!
"Um..." I swallowed, desperately searching for an acceptable answer. "My apologies. I merely... found something amusing, that is all."
Wendy nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that. That is why I asked what it was. You would not care to share it?"
Of course I would not care to share it!
The very thought was absurd.
The amusement had quite literally been directed at her, and now she wanted me to explain it to her face?
What kind of luck did I truly possess?
"I... I apologize," I managed to say instead.
That was all I could offer. What else was there to say without digging my own grave with my tongue?
Wendy regarded me for a moment longer before eventually shrugging and turning her attention forward again.
Relief swept through me swiftly.
Thank goodness she was not one of those stiff and humourless senior maids who treated every misplaced breath as a crime deserving punishment.
Perhaps she was actually quite nice.
I hope so.
"We are here," Wendy said, putting an end to my brief moment of relief.
She gestured toward a section of the hallway ahead, where two maids stood waiting beside a trolley laden with covered dishes.
The scent of food drifted faintly from beneath the clothes, though my attention was drawn strongly towards the two women standing beside it.
"Wendy... you certainly took your time," one of them said. "We have been waiting for ages. And who are these freaks?"
My brows immediately furrowed.
Freaks?
Could she not simply have said servants?
I was fairly certain the word would not have twisted her tongue.
Westwond brats.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I had promised myself that I would live peacefully these coming days rather than fighting people who irritated me.
And I intended to keep that promise. Especially after the last scene where I struck someone.
Besides, striking another servant would probably lead to another punishment, and I had already been acquainted with enough punishments to last several lifetimes.
"That was rude, Anneliese," Wendy said.
Yet strangely, she did not sound particularly bothered by it.
I stared at her.
Very well, I took back what I had thought earlier.
Who knew she possessed such a changeable character? Perhaps the sweetness was merely a mask.
How terrifying.
Anneliese rolled her eyes. "I do not care. I do not like their faces. Especially that one."
Her gaze settled upon me.
"She looks as though she had a battle with a pig and ended up in its backside."
I nearly gasped.
My pride had been struck with the force of a cannon.
I had believed myself to possess a rather sharp tongue when necessary, but this woman could manage to wound someone with hers without even drawing blood.
I could barely decide whether I ought to be offended or impressed. Perhaps both.
"That is enough, Anneliese," the other young lady beside her said. "Let us not start trouble. We have an entire battle before us already."
Her voice was soft and low, carrying an unmistakable air of calmness.
Her eyes naturally rested in a lowered position, and her expression was so difficult to read that I could not tell whether she was irritated, or simply neutral.
Beside her, Anneliese looked like the very embodiment of a spoiled young lady, from her expression to the manner in which she carried herself.
She was exceedingly pale and wore...
Wait.
Was that lipstick?
I stared.
She wore lipstick! Was that even allowed?
I looked at her lips again, almost unable to believe my eyes. The colour was a bright, beautiful cherry red, vivid enough to draw attention immediately, and despite my better judgment, I found myself momentarily fascinated by it.
Goodness.
There were truly so many people in this world whom one could meet and immediately regret meeting.
Makeup was strictly, absolutely strictly forbidden for servants in nearly every household. There were many reasons for such a rule, and it was not merely that servants were expected to maintain a plain and professional appearance while attending to their masters.
It was also widely believed that excessive adornment might tempt servants into drawing the attention of the master of the household.
Of course, it was not limited to non-nobles in the broader sense. A woman was perfectly capable of dressing herself beautifully if she wished, and personally, I saw nothing wrong with a lady wanting to make herself look lovely regardless of where she happened to stand.
It was hardly a crime for a woman to enjoy her own appearance.
Yet when one was employed as a servant, such adornment was considered improper and could diminish the professional image expected of the household staff.
Though, frankly, I could not understand how any of that excused a man who could not keep his own impulses under control.
If a master could not behave himself merely because a servant had put colour upon her lips, then perhaps the problem belonged to the master rather than the lipstick or the maiden.
Still, there were many cases in which servants had eventually become mistresses, and that was precisely why such rules were enforced so strictly.
A servant who deliberately sought the attention of a master could bring scandal upon an entire household, and noble families had no desire to entertain such trouble.
Though, in Westwond, there was not even a fully grown master of the household at present.
The supposed master was still little more than a teenager, if not practically a child in the eyes of the world.
What could he possibly know of seduction at such an age?
Even so, it would be utterly disgusting for a woman of Anneliese's age to entertain such thoughts toward a child.
Though I could not possibly accuse her of that merely because she wore lipstick.
"You would do well not to be caught wearing such a bright colour, Anneliese," Wendy remarked casually. "I pity the man who should ever fall into your hands."
Her voice remained relaxed and almost entirely uncaring, as though she were commenting upon the weather rather than speaking of something that could bring a servant considerable trouble.
Anneliese rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please. If he is a servant like me, then he is undeserving. The same may be said of a guard."
She twirled a little strand of hair that had slipped loose from her bun, and there was something almost coquettish in the movement.
I shivered in disgust.
Could she possibly be dreaming of becoming a mistress?
I sincerely hoped not.
"Anyhow, enough of that matter," Anneliese continued. "Tell me, where have you brought this group of illiterate children?"
I stared at her.
Never in my third life had I been insulted so many times by one person in such a short span of time.
Every person who had dared to try me had eventually received a slap for their efforts, yet here I stood, desperately restraining my hands because I had decided that surviving was more important than satisfying my temper.
Who knew how much strength it required not to strike this Anneliese of a witch?
Wendy, seemingly unaffected by the insult, answered calmly.
"Madame Avia wished to ensure that the preparations for the Dowager Matriarch's birthday were placed in capable hands. She therefore deemed the matter of Lady Arcenna's care too much of a burden during the preparations and has sent these girls in our stead for the time being. We are to teach them everything they need to know about tending to Lady Arcenna."
"So, in other words, we are being freed from tending to a mad woman so that we may focus upon preparing for the Dowager Matriarch's birthday?" Anneliese said.
A broad grin spread across her face.
"Such luck!"
She burst into mocking laughter, the sound carrying through the hallway like that of some plotting witch who had just discovered another poor soul for sacrifice.
"Anneliese," the calm young lady beside her called.
Anneliese glanced toward her with an irritated roll of her eyes. "What?"
The girl did not answer her. Instead, she turned toward us, her expression the same.
"So, what are your names?" she asked.
"Oh, that reminds me..." Wendy suddenly said, turning toward us. "I have not properly introduced myself, nor have I asked for your names. My apologies."
She offered us a kind smile.
I stared at it for a moment.
Now that I was looking closely, I noticed that the smile did not quite reach her eyes.
Ah.
There it was. Such a manipulative smile. Perhaps my instincts had not been entirely wrong about her after all.
"Um..." One of the girls beside me finally gathered enough courage to speak first. "I am Clara."
Wendy nodded.
Then she turned toward me with the same pleasant smile, silently signalling that it was my turn.
I sighed inwardly.
Could she not have asked the other girl first?
I was just about to open my mouth when the second girl beside me suddenly spoke as well.
"I... I am Manor," she said softly.
Wendy did not even glance toward her.
Her eyes remained fixed upon me, a smile still resting upon her face.
"And what would you be?" she asked.
My neck instinctively shrank into my shoulders.
Oh, no.
Something about the way she was looking at me suddenly made the hairs upon my skin rise.
I thought I was being sent to Lady Arcenna's chambers to become dead meat for a supposedly unstable woman, but perhaps I had misunderstood the situation entirely.