The Maid With a Child - Chapter 48

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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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48. A Waist About to Snap
The earlier worries had all been predictable trifles, but the last one—concerning High Society Etiquette—held genuine weight.
Lakcart herself had undergone harsh instruction from a tender age until it became second nature. She could have been rolling through a battlefield moments before and still move with unconscious grace upon being summoned to a Party Hall.
Others would likely be much the same.
“You needn’t trouble yourself overmuch about it, being only a maid.”
“All the same. This time I’m going as a nursemaid, not as part of the household.”
It’s not as though I’m making a Social Debut myself, and the attention will fall on the child, but still—I won’t simply vanish from that room. Someone will see me.
“Wouldn’t you teach me at least the basics?”
Lakcart paused, humming softly as she gathered her thoughts.
Her body knew the forms, but putting them into words tangled her tongue. Fetching an etiquette manual to study systematically from first principles to last would consume time she didn’t have, and it seemed far too formal.
There was no reason to be so thorough when they weren’t launching Adelen into High Society, only bringing along a child.
Simply not drawing excessive attention would suffice.
By that standard, she was already adequate as things stood.
From all Lakcart had observed, Adelen hadn’t the refined manners that came naturally to nobility, yet her bearing itself was quiet and graceful. Her speech was gentle, her voice clear as crystal.
Even the most elaborate protocol rings hollow without consideration for others; such a person earns resentment.
In that respect, Adelen had nothing to resent.
She always thought of others first, showed delicate consideration, fussed over people with unnecessary kindness. Coupled with a beauty that seemed the very crystallization of innocence—who could help but favor her?
If anything, one ought to worry that she’d capture far too much attention and regard.
Yet since Adelen was so anxious, Lakcart supposed she ought to teach her something.
“We could run through a rehearsal. That might help.”
“Oh, yes! Yes, please!”
At Lakcart’s suggestion, Adelen’s eyes sparkled with delight. It was exactly what she’d been hoping for.
“Right. First, when you alight from the Carriage. Last time you simply followed me down, but this time it’s better to do so with an Escort.”
“An Escort?”
“My hand.”
Lakcart positioned herself as if she’d just stepped down from the Carriage and extended her hand toward Adelen. Adelen rose to meet her gaze.
Lakcart made a beckoning gesture with her fingers, urging her to take it.
Yet Adelen hesitated, not immediately offering her hand.
“Um, ma’am.”
“What is it?”
“Is it the left hand or the right hand?”
…
Lakcart’s mind went blank. Such details could actually matter.
She’d only ever given an Escort, never received one, so she’d never thought it through.
Was it the left hand normally? The right? Did some rule even exist for it?
“…No one will scrutinize you so fussily over such a thing.”
“Ah, is that so? Then…”
Adelen extended the hand that wasn’t holding the child and placed it atop Lakcart’s.
Lakcart tightened her grip slightly, enfolding Adelen’s hand. That familiar sensation from before stirred in recognition, as though greeting an old acquaintance.
Surprisingly calloused, yet slender, delicate, warm, and soft.
Now that she thought of it, the roughness was less pronounced than before. Caring for the child and taking on fewer harsh labors had gentled her palms. Lakcart found she liked it.
A faint smile crossed her lips.
“Come, then.”
Lakcart drew her forward naturally, guiding Adelen as though they were heading toward an entrance. At the threshold, she released the hand and moved her grip to the small of her back.
!
Adelen’s body jolted upward in surprise.
“Ah.”
Lakcart froze as well.
“I, I’m so, so sorry. I was startled…”
Adelen’s skittish reaction had made Lakcart uncomfortable too.
Lakcart herself wasn’t particularly accustomed to escorting women.
She had no female relatives nearby, and without close female acquaintances who might require such service, she’d rarely had occasion to practice it.
So unlike the other High Society Etiquette that had seeped into her bones, Escorting felt somewhat awkward and stiff to her.
“Normally when someone receives an Escort upon entry, they either link arms or have their waist supported, but since you’re holding the child, linking arms would be difficult, so…”
It was proper custom to do so, so she’d done it. At the closeness Escorting required, cradling the waist was perfectly acceptable—no breach of propriety at all.
But Adelen was trembling so that Lakcart felt as though she’d committed some grave transgression.
“Oh, oh my, oh! So that’s how it’s meant to be done—I see, I see. Then, then could we try again? I’m, I’m ready now.”
Adelen steeled herself and returned to her previous position.
Even with her heart prepared, it thundered in her chest.
If it’s like this already, on the day of the party my heart will race so wildly I might burst. If I’d gone into the actual event without knowing this, I’d have fainted from the nerves alone.
Rehearsal proved to be essential, after all.
“……All right.”
Lakcart drew a deep breath and stepped toward Adelen once more.
But this time, her hands didn’t move as easily as before.
Once she’d become aware of it, the awkwardness refused to fade.
She noticed how fragile Adelen’s waist had felt in her grip—so slender it seemed ready to snap. The fear seized her: what if she actually broke something?
Doubt had taken up residence in Lakcart’s mind.
* * *
“Hah!”
The rough shouts of knights echoed from every direction.
The Sigelion Knights lived up to their reputation as Teplan’s mightiest order—their training was equally relentless.
Lakcart attended these sessions without fail.
As the one who led from the front in battle, she couldn’t afford to slack.
“Ugh!”
“Argh! Ow!”
Even the strongest among them were still human. No one excelled in every discipline.
Today was devoted to Hand-to-hand Combat drills—preparing for the moment when steel failed.
Cries of agony rose from all sides: throats constricted, arms twisted, spines bent nearly to breaking. Yet the intensity never diminished. If anything, the training was crueler than real combat.
This severity forged instinct, so that in true battle, one acted without hesitation or panic.
‘That’s the whole point of rehearsal—so you don’t freeze when it matters.’
Last night’s Social Debut rehearsal with Adelen had stretched late into the evening.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, things she’d once done without thought now felt unnaturally stiff, and Lakcart herself had begun to falter.
Had she walked into the Party Hall unrehearsed, it might have ended in disaster.
The two of them, exhausted and drained, had drilled again and again—grasping hands, circling a waist, drawing an arm across shoulders—until touch became numb, until nothing registered.
It wasn’t as though they’d done anything extraordinary.
Descend from the Carriage, enter the Party Hall, receive His Majesty upon his arrival, offer a bow, step forward to acknowledge individual congratulations, then withdraw—that was all. And yet they’d practiced it all day.
“Ungh!”
Lost in thought about yesterday, Lakcart was caught cleanly by her opponent and slammed to the ground.
She tried to escape quickly, but had the misfortune of facing the knight with the finest Hand-to-hand Combat skills in the order.
Against a master she herself had much to learn from, the price for her distraction was severe.
“What troubles you today, Commander?”
The knight seized the opening and pinned her down. Yet for all his strength and the solid, powerfully built frame that marked him as exceptional among men, he was light as air against Lakcart. Even throwing his full weight upon her, he found himself flipped aside.
“Argh!”
Now Lakcart’s body bore down upon his.
The knight gritted his teeth and fought back.
He wrapped both arms around her waist, pushed against her chest, locked his thighs, tried everything he could.
To an untrained eye, it might have looked like two people simply grappling and rolling across the ground—the intricate techniques exchanged between them invisible.
“Hrah!”
The knight made one final drive for a decisive blow, pouring his strength into it. But Lakcart, having once yielded ground, would not yield it twice.
She seized his waist, twisted with full force, and drove him hard against the stone.
However firm and trained, a woman was still a woman. Her waist was finer, softer than that of the male knights around her. And yet—it was only that. A waist was a waist.
But even now, the thought of placing her hands at Adelen’s waist made her fingers stiffen.
She couldn’t fathom the difference.
Was it the distinction between soldier and civilian?
Yet when she’d Escorted Maeltina on several occasions, she’d felt nothing at all.
Even the word “beautiful” had changed its weight.
Whenever she applied it to Adelen, its meaning and the feeling behind it shifted. What strange alchemy was this?
“Hm? Lost in thought again, are we, Commander?”
“Ugh!”
The knight didn’t waste the opportunity, wrenching Lakcart’s waist with force enough to steal her breath.
“Ow! Stop! The Viscount still lacks an heir!”
Had the watching knights not intervened, the Sigelion Viscount House might have faced a catastrophe.

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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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