The women were seated in a row of chairs in the hallway. Though they all wore different clothes and had different appearances, they all held the same thing in their hands.

‘Job advertisement flyer…’

Deborah examined once again the job advertisement flyer that she had read so many times she could almost recite it from memory.

Five hundred crowns. A normal maid’s monthly salary was 20 crowns. But 500 crowns? This was an amount that even renowned personal maids among the nobility would find difficult to receive.

‘Haa…’

Deborah lifted her head to look at the ceiling. This mansion was extravagant from the ceiling down. The two families Deborah had worked for before didn’t have such elaborate ceiling paintings.

‘They’ve even gilded the moldings. To casually offer such a salary, one must live in a house like this.’

Although she was currently waiting to be interviewed, Deborah actually didn’t want to go through with this interview.

‘I tried to avoid it somehow… Haa.’

Deborah thought of Madam Saint, whom she was currently serving.

Kind and amusing Madam Saint. With that lovely face, she had pushed Deborah into this precarious situation.

‘Of course, Madam probably didn’t know this place was dangerous. She probably made the request without knowing, but even though I said I really didn’t want to, she wouldn’t budge in the end.’

If it weren’t for the debt of gratitude she owed to Madam Saint, Deborah would have run away midway. That’s how much Deborah wanted to avoid this Baker family.

But what could she do? She had already come here.

“Next interviewee, please come in.”

Called by a handsome footman whose name she didn’t know, Deborah had no choice but to enter the interview room.

‘It’ll be fine anyway.’

Although Deborah was going through with the interview, she thought there was no way she would be accepted.

There was a good reason for thinking this. First, the crowd filling this place. Every one of them was wearing fashionable outdoor clothes and sitting with perfectly straight backs. With so many talented candidates, why would they need to choose her in her gloomy and plain black dress?

“…Please give me your resume and letter of recommendation.”

Even the footman who was now taking her resume and recommendation letter looked strangely at Deborah’s appearance. There was no way that proud ‘Zen’ would choose someone as flawed as her.

‘Not a chance.’

Deborah was determined to do her best so as not to tarnish the name of Madam Saint who had recommended her, but she still thought there was no chance she would be accepted.

‘Of course, of course…’

Deborah reassured herself as if casting a spell. Even so, the uneasiness didn’t completely disappear, but it wasn’t enough to make her break out in a cold sweat.

“Please have a seat.”

As the footman closed the door, a voice was heard from behind the partition. A low and elegant voice. But young. Mid-twenties at most?

“Thank you for your consideration.”

Deborah, after a light greeting, sat down on the chair placed alone in the middle of the spacious room.

‘Nice chair.’

While Deborah was enjoying the softness of the chair, the footman handed the documents to the man behind the partition. As the footman left the room again, the interviewer behind the partition, that is, sighed with dissatisfaction and said,

“What exactly is your relationship with your recommender?”

Deborah didn’t understand why he was suddenly getting irritated, but she wasn’t naive enough to be hurt by someone who lashed out without reason.

“I’ve been working at the villa where Madam Saint stays for about a year.”

“Madam Saint? You just call her that?”

The man’s tone was unpleasantly confrontational, as if he intended to keep picking fights. But Deborah focused on the content rather than the man’s tone.

‘Just call her that, he says. Then what should we call the bourgeoisie?’

It would be proper etiquette to use a title if one had one, but this lady of a mansion too small for the bourgeoisie to reside in had asked to be called ‘Madam Saint’. And in the nobility name book that Deborah had memorized, there was no family name ‘Saint’.

“I simply did as the Madam wished.”

“Ha, so you’re saying you didn’t know that the person you keep calling Madam Saint is actually the Duchess of Forea?”

Deborah’s hands, neatly folded in front of her lower abdomen, twitched.

‘The Duchess of Forea? Madam Saint?’

Deborah’s mind became complicated, but she answered without losing her composure.

“I didn’t know. Is she really the Duchess of Forea?”

“Ha, are you just supposed to say you ‘didn’t know’?”

The interviewer seemed to find it hard to believe that Deborah was unaware of such an important fact. In response to the interviewer’s sarcastic comment implying that she was supposed to pretend not to know, Deborah calmly replied.

“That’s right. I truly didn’t know.”

“…Let’s move on from this issue anyway.”

As the man stopped speaking, the sound of water being gulped down could be heard. Soon after, the sound of a glass cup hitting the table could also be heard.

Although the Baker name was just becoming known now, ‘Zen Baker’, who would soon make even respectable nobles tremble, wouldn’t drink water so audibly.

Then, this person must be…

‘The butler, perhaps?’

Just as Deborah was trying to recall the butler’s name, the interviewer’s voice was heard again. Deborah refocused on the interview.

“Ha, looking at your resume here, you’re quite impressive. Four languages you can speak… Did you perhaps dream of being a governess?”

“No.”

“I was under the impression that most women who attended school were desperate to teach rich children.”

“I didn’t attend school.”

“Then how did you learn all this?”

The interviewer spoke in a mocking tone. Deborah replied without so much as raising an eyebrow.

“The first master and mistress I served were German, so I learned German, and Madam Saint, who took a liking to me, taught me many things.”

“Huh. You’re quite lucky then. It’s not often that someone who’s been a maid all their life gets the chance for such quality education.”

Despite the sharp voice, Deborah showed a calm smile.

“I too think I’m fortunate.”

“Yes. But today, you’re not so lucky. Today, I’m not looking for a clever maid who can speak several languages, but a maid skilled in grooming with a good aesthetic sense.”

Deborah clenched her fist at his insult. Of course, it wasn’t a fist of anger to suppress, but one of joy.

‘As expected, an easy rejection.’

Although she felt sorry towards Madam Saint, Deborah was still happy.

“Huu.”

Tapping the recommender’s name with his index finger and sighing, the interviewer said,

“Still, for the sake of the recommender’s honor, I’ll ask a few questions. Do you know all the current nobility lists?”

“Yes.”

“Seeing you answer so quickly, you seem quite confident. Despite not even knowing that Madam Saint was the Duchess of Forea.”

Deborah gave an awkward smile. She too agreed with the man’s opinion. How could she not have known that?

“What operas are currently showing in the capital?”

“I believe ‘Madame Cella’ is showing at the Royal Theater, ‘The Musician of Braum’ at the Ossel Grand Theater, and ‘The Wings of Frianna’ at the Trium Theater.”

“…”

The man looked at Deborah’s resume again. The place she was staying was Bermuth. An eastern coastal village, a terribly rustic neighborhood. How could someone from such a place know the opera lineup in the capital so thoroughly?

‘…This level could be crammed for, I suppose.’

The man raised his chin and asked.

“Do you know the content of ‘The Musician of Braum’?”

“I know it superficially.”

“Who’s the protagonist?”

“It’s Jean, the fairy living in the musician’s old guitar.”

Raising one eyebrow in dissatisfaction, the man crossed his legs to the opposite side and said,

“Let’s say Countess Barbara and Viscountess Cream each sent an invitation for a dinner party on the same day to the lady you serve. Which party would you advise your mistress to attend?”

“…”

Deborah had expected opera questions, as popular operas often influence the grooming of noble ladies. But the last question was a bit surprising. This kind of task was usually handled by butlers.

‘Of course, it’s not an impossible question. Famous personal maids are well-versed in the relationships between nobles.’

As Deborah, who had been answering without hesitation until now, maintained a long silence, the corners of the interviewer’s beautiful mouth twisted up on one side.

“Can’t answer?”

“Yes. It’s a bit difficult for me.”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

“I know Countess Barbara and Viscountess Cream as close sisters. If they’re holding dinner parties on the same day, I wonder if it might be a jointly hosted party.”

The arrogant smile disappeared from the man’s face.

‘She knows this much?’

Had there been anyone among the women interviewed so far who answered like this? At that moment, remembering Madam Saint’s annoying smile, the interviewer rubbed his throbbing head and said,

“How did you come here?”

It was in German. Pleased to hear German after a long time, Deborah smiled slightly and answered.

“By train. Oh, of course, I took a carriage to this mansion. The hotel I’m staying at was quite far to come on foot.”

Deborah’s casual chatter in German made the man’s headache worse.

‘What kind of woman is this?’

The man, with his chin raised, spoke to the woman behind the partition, whose form was only vaguely visible through the oiled paper.

“I’m curious about who this German couple you served was. How idle must they have been to teach a maid languages.”

The man was planning to criticize her as someone who knew neither humility nor gratitude if she said she had studied on her own to protect them.

It seemed that was the only way to find fault and reject this woman who might be a pawn of the Duchess of Forea.

Deborah remained silent for a moment, carefully opening the dusty and tightly bound box of memories. After selecting the good ones, Deborah recalled Madam Heather’s bright smiling face and gave a bitter smile.

“…The Heathers were good people. Especially Madam Heather, who was a cheerful person who treated even the servants kindly, so I made many good memories−”

Crash!

Just as the sound of a glass breaking behind the partition spread through the room, there was a loud clatter of a table falling over. Thanks to this, Deborah’s bitter smile evaporated instantly.

‘Goodness!’

With her hand on her chest, Deborah could only raise her head when all the noise had become past tense.

Then, over the partition that was taller than an average adult man, she saw the face of a man with brilliant blonde hair perfectly styled with pomade. He was a cold-looking handsome man whose beauty couldn’t be fully captured even if a skilled painter had painted him with utmost care.

“…”

The man’s gaze trembled miserably as if the ground he was standing on had collapsed. It was an expression that didn’t match his eerily handsome face.

And Deborah, who had only been looking at the man’s face, hurriedly searched for God in her mind.

‘Why did you make us meet?’

Deborah could be certain.

It’s this man.

This man is the protagonist of this damned story.