The Maid With a Child - Chapter 44

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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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44. Poison Snake Rather Than Flower Snake
“My, so it was true after all?”
“No! Absolutely not!”
“It wasn’t?”
Maeltina blinked in surprise at Adlen’s flustered reaction. She’d clearly been convinced deep down that it was a foregone conclusion.
Adlen clutched the back of her neck.
“Why on earth would you think that? Or… is it possible that everyone else has been seeing it that way too, not just you?”
“Well… others might not? I just happen to have a knack for that sort of thing.”
At least it was only Maeltina who harbored this misunderstanding.
If everyone else had been thinking the same way, her future would have looked very dark indeed.
“It’s really not. Truly. The master was hardly ever home, and I’ve been too busy caring for the baby to even see him.”
“Is that so…? Are you really telling the truth…?”
“It is! And the master will be marrying you anyway—how could such a ridiculous thing ever happen? Who in this world would choose an earthworm when there’s a dragon to be had? No matter how uninterested our master is in women, unless he’s a complete fool, of course he’d pick the better option!”
“Oh… that’s quite a vivid comparison. I see.”
Maeltina quickly withdrew her suspicion.
Adlen felt relief wash over her at not having to bear the weight of such a misunderstanding. But Maeltina added one more piece of advice for her.
“Just don’t call yourself an earthworm. At worst, you should be a pretty Flower Snake.”
“I’ll work hard and become a Poison Snake instead.”
Of all the snakes in the world, why did she have to be called a Flower Snake? Not that it was meant unkindly—she’d said it because it was pretty—but it grated on her somehow. If she was going to be anything, she’d rather be a strong, venomous snake.
Maeltina burst into bright laughter at Adlen’s resolute comeback.
“Good. With that much venom, you’ll succeed at anything.”
She wanted to ask how one could succeed as a maid, but Adlen kept quiet.
Maeltina added one last remark, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“And I’m not necessarily going to marry Lacalte, either. Keep that in mind.”
When she said “not necessarily,” it was as good as an outright refusal among nobility.
Adlen had known her ambitions weren’t small, but not to this degree.
“I… why? Is our master lacking in so many ways?”
“It’s not Lacalte’s problem. It’s my personal matter.”
“A personal matter…”
She couldn’t press further when told it was personal, so she mumbled and fell silent. But Maeltina, as if doing her a favor, offered an explanation.
“I want to become a Duke, not a Countess’s wife.”
…!
“So I’d rather either bring a man beneath a Count under my heel, or not marry at all.”
The true Poison Snake was Maeltina.
Adlen bowed her head meekly before this beautiful viper, oozing with ambition.
All the plans for a wedding with the master were child’s play compared to this woman’s far-reaching aspirations.
* * *
Thanks to Maeltina, the Party preparations proceeded so smoothly that Adlen hardly needed to worry about anything.
Everything went well, yet Adlen’s heart felt oddly unsettled.
‘Did I do something that made me look suspicious?’
Maeltina’s bizarre misunderstanding wouldn’t leave her mind.
It was all the more shocking because this was something she’d been wary of ever since she started sharing a room with the master.
People said that rumors between a man and a woman could be conjured from thin air just by word of mouth, but she never expected a misunderstanding to arise when there was absolutely nothing there.
‘What was it? What on earth could it have been?’
Maeltina didn’t know that Adlen was staying in Lacalte’s room.
Yet she’d still misunderstood their relationship, which meant there must have been something in their outward behavior or words that suggested something improper.
And yet that day, Adlen and Lacalte had barely exchanged a few words.
“…I don’t know.”
No matter how hard she thought, nothing came to mind.
Adlen rose with a heavy hand, her face washed though still heavy with thought.
By the time she’d turned the matter over in her mind again and again, morning had already arrived.
“…is.”
“…so that, …not.”
The soft voices of the master and the Head Butler, who as always had risen early, drifted through the air.
Adlen usually woke to the sound of Lacalte rising first, preparing himself and moving about.
Then she would go out to greet him, see him off, and have breakfast with the baby—that was how her day always began.
But today, her feet wouldn’t leave the blanket. She felt oddly uncomfortable.
“A… deu…?”
The baby stirred awake, sensing Adlen’s presence.
“Shh… yes, shall we sleep a little longer, baby?”
Adlen patted the baby’s chest and lulled her back to sleep instead of rising herself.
Seeing off her mistress was not part of her responsibilities.
She decided to keep her distance until the awkwardness faded—or until she learned what had caused Maeltina’s misunderstanding.
It wasn’t difficult. Lacalte kept himself occupied with his own affairs, and Adlen was so consumed with caring for the baby that the distance maintained itself, half by accident.
Time slipped away as they preserved this ambiguous separation.
And so the Party date crept inexorably closer.
* * *
“I’ve spent all this time making revisions upon revisions. I’m sure you were quite worried we wouldn’t meet the deadline.”
The Tailor arrived at Sigelion House once more with the finished gown, greeting them with an air of confident satisfaction.
The Tailor had shown an artistic temperament even on the fitting day, but during production had become an artist in earnest, pushing back the deadline more than once and putting everyone through agonies of suspense.
And in the Tailor’s hands now was not one dress, as promised.
“Originally I meant to make just one, but designs that suited the young lady’s image kept occurring to me—all sorts of ideas, really. After much deliberation, I consulted with Maeltina, and she said to simply make them all, didn’t she? Make them all, try them on, and pick whichever looks best.”
So she really is an artist.
Adlen’s mouth fell open at this utterly incomprehensible logic—that extra work had simply occurred to her—and she could only nod mutely.
“But—haven’t these all been fitted already? Can’t you sell them to someone else?”
“Of course, we can always alter them. If worst comes to worst, we can always implore Maeltina to purchase them!”
The Tailor spoke with casual ease, and Adlen felt some worry lift from her shoulders. She had been nervous the Tailor might ask her to buy all three dresses.
She didn’t have the money to buy them herself. Admittedly, her mistress would pay for them, but she couldn’t bear the shame of asking.
She could accept a house, a carriage, livestock, and marriage funds that had already been offered; but it was unthinkable for her to speak up and ask for something to be purchased for her.
At the very least, she was grateful this calamity hadn’t come to pass.
“Well then, let’s have you try this one first.”
The Tailor pointed to one of the dresses.
All three dresses were made from the same fabric and had similar designs. They were dresses whose design had been coordinated with Maeltina from the beginning. No matter how many variations the Tailor had introduced, the original design had remained essentially unchanged.
To Adlen’s untrained eye, the three dresses appeared nearly identical.
She was relieved the Tailor hadn’t asked her to choose between them—an utterly daunting prospect.
Adlen obediently moved to the dressing room and surrendered herself to their ministrations.
“Now, arms out. Arms down. Turn around, if you please.”
Two of the Tailor’s assistants followed her into the dressing room, clustering around her.
Not all dresses were created equal.
A maid’s dress was simple—you just slipped it over your head and tied it, and you were done. Most clothes that ordinary people wore were like that.
Only small children couldn’t dress themselves.
But this dress was so complex that if she were to put it on alone, she might spend all day just looking for the opening. It was clearly impossible to don without help.
Despite being called a finished dress, after they’d gotten it on her, they spent ages inserting pins to adjust the seams, layering ribbons and tying them, and making a tremendous fuss of adjustments.
“How will I—I mean, how does one wear this on the day of the Party itself? If you could teach me how to put it on beforehand……”
Last time she had received help from the Head Maid, but it seemed that wouldn’t be manageable this time either.
Even then, the Head Maid had fumbled about, saying it had been far too long since she’d dressed a young lady, and she’d even called in another maid who had served a young mistress at another house—the two of them conferred as they worked to get her into it.
This dress was incomparably more intricate than the late Countess’s gown she’d borrowed last time.
“Oh my, it’s our dress—of course we’ll come and dress you ourselves!”
“Eh……? You mean you’ll come and dress me on the day itself?”
“This isn’t an ordinary dress—it’s a special design for special occasions. For something like this, we must come in person to dress you, or we won’t have any peace of mind.”
“Ah, I see……. So should I contact you to come and dress me every time I wear it?”
She asked in genuine curiosity, and the Tailor laughed softly, as if charmed by her innocence.

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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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