Chapter 2

Instead of grinding her teeth, Harriet mentally bit down on the emperor and threw the letter onto the table.

She knew delaying it would only make things worse later, but she intended to read it after going out.

“I should at least go to the count’s estate.”

Harriet muttered gloomily.

Maybe—just maybe—they’d say they were short-staffed and ask her to return. Even if not, she would beg.

I must have been insane to quit! I was wrong!

As she brushed dust off her hat, a chill ran down her neck.

‘What if they somehow found out I’m Elliot Dark?’

…No, impossible. Only Penelope knew. No one else.

And if they had figured it out, they wouldn’t send a telegram—they’d have sent soldiers.

Harriet pressed her hat down firmly, as if to suppress her anxiety.

Her light brown curls misbehaved every winter, puffing up no matter how much she brushed them. A hat was essential to hide them.

She stuffed the telegram into her pocket and left the room.

After graduating from the academy, she had been forced by her parents’ pressure to become a maid and had endured three years of service.

During that time, she had worked in three different households.

The third and final was Count Pailen’s estate—a place balanced between terror and comfort, with a cruel eldest daughter and an adorable younger one. Good enough for material, and tolerable enough to survive.

She had even watched the younger daughter get married, while the countess’s sharp temper aged alongside her, forming a strange, grudging familiarity.

Then, just as she began imagining a peaceful future there, Harriet had suddenly snapped and resigned.

Too comfortable. She nearly became a lifelong maid.

‘And now I’m back as a guest.’

Ivy vines crawled like waves over the aged brick walls. A polished bronze nameplate bearing the Pailen crest hung above the dark green door.

Harriet stared at it, then pressed the doorbell.

After the chime echoed, she waited.

“Miss Brown?”

“Marsha! Long time no see!”

Harriet smiled brightly at the familiar face.

Marsha, her former coworker, simply adjusted her glasses in response.

Harriet pulled the telegram from her pocket.

“I sent this this morning. It arrived fast.”

“Well, you did ask for urgent visitation. Is the count home?”

“He’s in the second-floor study. Go in—you know the way.”

“Of course I do!”

Unlike her previous stance as a gatekeeper, Marsha stepped aside obediently.

Harriet slipped through the open door.

Oddly, there was no nostalgia. No warmth.

It felt disturbingly familiar—like returning to work after a short vacation, only to find the same exhausting routine waiting.

As she adjusted her hat and tried to smooth her messy hair with her fingers, she suddenly asked,

“Is it okay to let me in without informing the count first?”

“Just go upstairs.”

That sharp reply was all she received.

Marsha had already vanished.

Harriet didn’t bother stopping her. She finished fixing her hair and went upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the study door.

“Come in.”

With a polite smile, she opened the door.

“Good day, my lord.”

“Ah, Brown.”

The count stood up immediately, even setting down his book in welcome.

Harriet’s smile subtly stiffened.

Better than being ignored—but this was almost too welcoming. That was worse.

‘Ever since yesterday, everything has felt ominous.’

Why am I being summoned?

The count gestured for her to sit.

“Have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Tea as well?

The unease deepened. Hospitality was normal—but this level of hospitality felt wrong.

The count had never been the type to treat servants beyond their station.

What is he planning?

Harriet straightened her posture, already half-prepared to flee if necessary.

“I came after receiving your telegram. You said it was urgent.”

“Yes. I returned to the estate this morning and immediately asked for you. I was quite surprised to hear you had resigned.”

“Ah… well… I just… circumstances changed.”

I couldn’t say I quit because I thought I could live off book royalties.

Without wasting time, the count got to the point.

“Brown, I’ll be direct. I need you to work for me a bit longer.”

It was the very thing she had hoped for—but Harriet couldn’t answer immediately.

He sent a telegram just for that? Even with how busy they were?

The count fidgeted briefly, then suddenly shifted his tone, adopting a composed smile as if performing.

“Not that I know what you’re worried about, but this is actually a good opportunity for you. You won’t be working here anymore—you’ll be working in the royal palace.”

Harriet’s mind froze.

“…Pardon? The royal palace?”

The count nodded with a cheerful smile.

A smile that used to be comforting now felt deeply suspicious.

“Yes. As a palace maid.”

Is this man insane?

Harriet’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief.

The thought that struck her first wasn’t pride, nor irritation at the sudden job change.

It was—

“[Breaking] Elliot Dark: Next Novel’s Villain Model Is the Emperor of the Swan Empire!”

Her reckless provocation.

Her cursed newspaper article.

The same emperor she had taunted—and now she was being sent to the royal palace.

Me? Why?

She hadn’t even asked for this. Why was this happening?!

She wasn’t feeling joy. She wasn’t feeling honor.

Just disbelief.

The emperor had “given her trouble.”

And now the count was giving her the same kind of trouble.

With a pale face, Harriet stammered,

“C-can I even become a palace maid? As you know, I don’t—”

No noble relatives. No title. Just a middle-class background.

Her excuse was cut off.

“You graduated second in your class at the Royal Academy. And I’m recommending you.”

So that recommendation again!

She didn’t want it!

Above all, she didn’t want to go to the palace. What if they discovered she was Elliot Dark?

Her imagination immediately conjured a grim future, and she shivered.

For once, she hated her own vivid imagination.

“Putting everything else aside, in terms of skill and character, there’s hardly anyone better than you.”

It wasn’t particularly comforting to be praised as a maid, but the impartial evaluation was appreciated.

“I happened to hear they were recruiting talent regardless of status, so I mentioned it in passing. And now a good opportunity has come up. If I get you in early and secure a recommendation, it’ll help greatly when my eldest daughter Seily becomes a palace maid later.”

So that was the real reason!

The daughter’s future entry into the palace.

Still, it was undeniably a good opportunity.

With her current financial situation, Harriet couldn’t easily refuse.

‘But I still don’t want it!’

Of all places—it had to be the palace.

If anyone discovered she was Elliot Dark, she could be arrested immediately for insulting a foreign emperor.

Before she could protest, the count clapped his hands.

“Very well! From tomorrow, you will report to the palace. Don’t shame my recommendation.”

“W-wait, my lord?”

“I’m quite busy. Next time you visit, speak with Emily as well—she was fond of you.”

“My lord, I said I can’t—”

“And if you fail to arrive at the palace…”

His gentle smile faded like a tide receding from the shore.

“…and I hear it damages my reputation.”

“Pardon?”

His voice dropped low.

“I will skin you and throw you into the river.”

A chill crawled down Harriet’s spine.