The Maid With a Child - Chapter 3

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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3. The Master of Fear
Adlen’s expression hardened.
“Why? You accepted it, so of course you’ll take care of it.”
“I recall you didn’t explicitly say ‘Adlen will raise them.’ Sir.”
Adlen held her ground, jaw set firm.
It was her creed to do her utmost with whatever task was given—but not this. Never this.
Not childcare.
At the Orphanage, Adlen had borne the weight of raising her younger siblings. She knew better than anyone the grueling truth of it.
Children old enough to speak and play were manageable, at least. But infants—those brought to the Orphanage from birth—were pure torment.
It was an endless march that demanded sleep, routine, and strength all be surrendered.
‘We raised you like this so you’d have what you have now. You owe us, don’t you?’
She had raised countless younger siblings under that weight, never allowed to voice her exhaustion.
The day she left the Orphanage, Adlen had made a vow: the first child held in these arms would be hers alone. Her own.
She’d already held this one—but it couldn’t happen again. She would not walk willingly back into that hell.
“But… you’re really the only one who seems to know how to care for a child. You guessed it was hungry right away, you knew what to feed it, you’re holding it well even now. If we took over, the baby would already be screaming.”
“I don’t know how to care for one. I just had so many siblings I’ve seen a lot of things. I can’t do this!”
Childcare is work without clocking out.
The master hadn’t specified an end date. If the term was until the child grew up, she couldn’t accept it. She simply couldn’t.
“If you won’t all help—”
Adlen cast aside the careful deference of a new servant and spoke with blunt resolve.
“I’m quitting and leaving!”
This was serious. Deadly serious.
“No, you can’t!”
If Adlen quit, the burden would naturally fall to them next. The senior maids clung to her desperately.
“We’ll help with everything we can! Adlen, please!”
“Help?”
The senior maids flinched at Adlen’s sharp correction.
“Together. It has to be together.”
“Of course. Childcare is something done together.”
Only then did Adlen smile, her expression softening.
And so collective childcare began in the Sigelion County House.
* * *
Racalte, the head of Sigelion, rose from bed after the sun had finally climbed the sky.
His body, ground to dust by the embrace of that impossibly soft mattress and feather-light bedding, slowly came back together again.
“Mmm…”
Racalte moved heavily, descending from the bed.
As he removed his nightgown, the Butler pressed forward with the daily clothes already prepared.
The Butler, watching Racalte dress without assistance, spoke in a strained voice.
“Perhaps it would be wise to call for a physician, sir.”
This war had been long and fierce.
Racalte’s body bore many wounds, both large and small. The field surgeon had treated them, but blood still seeped through some of the bandages.
“Everything that could be done has been. It’s just a matter of waiting for them to heal.”
“Then at least allow me to change the bandages.”
“…”
At the Butler’s earnest plea, Racalte’s hands stilled on his shirt buttons. Though he gave no explicit permission, the Butler moved at once to gather the medical supplies.
In the meantime, Racalte removed the shirt he’d just put on and settled onto the drawing room sofa.
The Butler, who had attended to Racalte since childhood, moved with practiced ease—unwrapping the bandages, cleansing the wounds, wrapping them fresh.
“Will you be resting for a time?”
“It seems so.”
“Thank heavens. I do hope you’ll rest well this time, sir.”
“Yes.”
The brief exchange faded into silence. Only the sound of the Butler’s wrapping—swish, swish—filled the room.
The Butler’s fingers tightened.
No matter how long one serves, he remains a difficult man.
And yet, at the same time, a pitiful one.
The Butler had begun as a servant when his master was still young, rising eventually to his present station. Through all those long years, the master had remained difficult, and he had remained pitiful.
A man without weakness must be difficult. His master had been raised from birth to be exactly that—flawless.
The previous Count, who had pulled his life from an unknown knight to the County Title of Sigelion, had been merciless—both with himself and with his son.
He had wished his son to be like him, and Racalte had not disappointed. He had grown exactly as his father wished: a lord who placed the house’s welfare above his own self.
That path had never been easy.
Even learning to walk felt like training, and as she grew older, every moment of her day became nothing but drills and study.
When the previous Count passed away young and she inherited the Sigelion County House, she’d hoped things might improve—but that wasn’t what happened.
If anything, matters only grew worse.
Her master was far more relentless than anyone had imagined.
‘There’s no rest until Sigelion becomes a Duchy.’
Butler to a Duchy. How grand. How magnificent. As long as her master doesn’t work herself to death first.
Some pity still lingered in his heart, but the master who now bore the title of household head had become someone beyond his reach.
That was why the Butler remained constantly anxious about every word he spoke to her.
Yet this was one question he simply could not leave unasked.
“Begging your pardon, but who was that infant yesterday?”
Racalte stared directly at the Butler.
The Butler grew more tense than he had been while preparing the welcome address the previous day, his eyes dropping.
“Well, depending on the child’s identity, you see, the preparations might need to differ….”
“She won’t be staying long. Does it matter?”
“In that case, there’s no need to concern yourself with it.”
“Right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Satisfied with the Butler’s concise reply, Racalte nodded approvingly.
“While we’re at it, let me check on her condition. Bring her to me.”
“Yes, understood.”
The Butler, who had nearly been reprimanded for his curious question, fled the room as though escaping.
Left alone, Racalte finally exhaled a long breath and stretched across the sofa. It had been far too long since she’d had a peaceful morning like this.
But it didn’t last. Not long after, a knock sounded at the door.
“Come—”
Racalte stopped mid-sentence and fixed her gaze on the door instead.
Her eyes gleamed with the predatory sharpness of a beast on the hunt. One corner of her expressionless face twisted into a half-smile.
Peace. What a joke.
This was no morning suited to her nature.
“So you’ve come. Fine—we’re both going to die anyway, so we might as well get it over with quickly.”
As she murmured, a blade sang silently from its sheath, cleaving through the air.
* * *
Walking down the long corridor toward the household head’s chambers, Adlen felt her already scattered thoughts grow even more distant.
Why had a mere maidservant like herself been summoned to the household head’s quarters?
She was the sort who took pride in her assigned tasks—scrubbing surfaces until they gleamed.
“Don’t say anything unnecessary in front of the master. Just answer yes, yes, to everything.”
The Butler had grown so worried that he gave her careful instruction outside the door.
“Yes, yes.”
“And brighten your expression a little. She considers health management part of her duties.”
“…Yes.”
As if she could control that. Muttering under her breath, Adlen crumpled and smoothed her face repeatedly, trying to correct whatever gloomy expression was written there.
“I’ve brought the child, ma’am. I’m coming in.”
“…….”
But there was no response from within.
Adlen glanced back at the Butler.
“Did she actually summon us?”
“She did. Perhaps she stepped out somewhere…. No, she’s not the sort to leave a task half-finished….”
Crash!
At that moment, a thunderous sound erupted from inside the room.
Startled, the two exchanged glances, their eyes meeting.
“Something’s happening in there. We should—”
“No.”
The Butler extended his arm to block Adlen.
He looked so grim, as though marching toward war, that Adlen didn’t dare ask twice and sealed her lips shut.
Then from inside came another sound—bang, thud—indecipherable and violent.
Whatever it was, it sounded like brutality itself.
With each sound from within, Adlen’s face bleached another shade whiter.
“M-master, are you… all right…?”
“The master will be fine. The master is….”
…Probably.
Because that was how things had always been.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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