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Chapter 7
Now, all I had to do was secretly trail the Archduke with the information I had gathered.
“You could say it’s more like close surveillance.”
Fortunately, Lillian’s body was gifted with an uncanny knack for erasing her presence—befitting that of a spy. Even the hyper-sensitive head maid never once noticed her movements.
The only problem was…
“Lillian, start from here, okay?”
“When you’re done, could you help with this side too?”
“The head maid’s coming!”
“Ahh! Lillian, finish this up for me!”
“Lillian—!”
Maids were busy.
Really, very, unbelievably busy.
No matter how much extra effort she tried to put in, there was simply no escaping the mountain of chores that piled up every day. At best, she could steal a few scraps of time during breaks, after meals, or once all the day’s work was finally over.
And even that depended on how quickly everything else got done.
“To make the most of my scraps of time… I’ll need some prep work.”
Her answer was simple:
“Faster! More efficient!”
And so, she began sharing her secret housekeeping tips with the others—her little stash of shy, hidden wisdom.
They weren’t anything grand. Just small things like:
“Baking soda works better on greasy dishes.”
“Corners of window frames are easier to clean with a brush.”
But even those tips sped everything up dramatically.
Soon after—
“Guys, look! Lillian’s starting again!”
“Everyone focus.”
“We need to learn from her!”
I became… the Goddess of Dusting.
Whap-whap-whap!
Like twin tennis rackets, two dust beaters sliced through the blankets with ruthless precision.
Holding my breath to avoid inhaling dust, I swung my arms at lightning speed, each strike sharp and clean.
Fwip—
Sometimes, the blankets got tangled awkwardly on the beaters, but that was hardly a problem. I simply switched hands and slammed down again.
“Whoa, so fast!”
“That wrist snap is unreal!”
“W-what is she…?”
The maids gasped in awe, the footmen gawked in horror, and I—secretly—felt proud.
“Wait. Hold on.”
Wasn’t the point of all this to spy on the Archduke?
So why did it feel like I was… just working harder?
The realization made my chest tighten. Do I really have to do all this just to catch a glimpse of my boss’s face? What even is life…?
“Lillian, could you do this carpet too?”
“We tried once, but it’s not quite enough.”“Sure, I’ll be right there!”
…Well. Work was still work.
And so I struck again, dust flying from the carpet like smoke on a battlefield.
Meanwhile, on the second floor corridor…
Raymond paused mid-step.
“…Her hands… they’ve disappeared.”
“…How is she even—?”
“…This is… incredible.”
Muffled voices carried in from outside the window. Curious, he leaned out—and blinked in disbelief.
“…What on earth is she doing?”
There she was. A brown-haired maid, beating away with dusters in both hands like some divine performer. The other servants clapped and cheered as if they were witnessing a spectacle.
“…Why…?”
He could not make sense of it.
Just then, his aide Dylan—who had been following behind—caught his mutter and replied:
“It appears she’s dusting carpets, sir.”
“…I can see that.”
Raymond’s brow twitched at the obvious remark. Dylan, however, remained unfazed. Years of serving under him had made the aide immune to such reactions.
Then Dylan suddenly remembered something.
“Ah. She must be the maid Mr. Peter mentioned.”
Peter—the head chef. Raymond knew him well. Dylan, a former war veteran now obsessed with gourmet food, had struck up an unlikely friendship with the man.
If Peter had spoken of her, then the information was likely reliable. Raymond gestured lightly for Dylan to continue.
“Apparently she was diligent but not particularly skilled before. Lately though, she’s improved tremendously. Dishwashing, cleaning, laundry… everything.”
“Even suggested clever new methods. Something about baking soda—or powder? Not sure myself, of course.”
Raymond had already stopped listening. One phrase rang in his mind:
“Suddenly, you say…”
Dylan rambled on, but the Archduke finally cut him short.
“Find out.”
“Sir?” Dylan blinked.
Raymond tapped the windowpane where Lillian stood below.
“Find out what game she’s playing.”
“Ugh… my whole body aches.”
Even with Lillian’s sturdy body, doing double and triple the work of others was brutal.
And worse—there had been no progress in her actual mission.
Nothing.
Unless you counted becoming famous for dusting.
She sighed. At this rate, she could be given five months instead of five days and still learn nothing about the Archduke.
Her steps dragged wearily, as though she were carrying burdens she hadn’t signed up for.
That was when—
“Good evening, Miss Lillian.”
“Ah!”
She nearly leapt back, only to find herself staring blankly at the man before her.
“…The Archduke’s aide?”
It was Dylan. She had seen him in passing, though they had never spoken directly. The maids often gossiped about him, so his identity wasn’t hard to guess.
“This is our first proper introduction, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes…”
Why are we even doing this?
The Archduke’s aide wasn’t exactly a man with time to waste. So why had he come looking for her?
Lillian forced a polite smile, hiding her unease. Dylan, however, pressed on smoothly.
“I’ve heard a great deal from Mr. Peter. He says you’re diligent and well-mannered.”
The chef said that…?
She knew he liked her, but still—the praise was more generous than expected.
“I believe you’ve just finished your probation period, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“For someone so new, your skills as a maid are exceptional. Peter even wants you in the kitchen.”
She tried to laugh it off. “He’s just being nice, that’s all.”
The conversation was surprisingly pleasant. Her guard began to lower.
Until—
“But tell me…”
His eyes fixed sharply on hers.
“Why have your talents only now come to light?”
“…And so suddenly.”
Her throat went dry. She swallowed hard.
“It’s… odd, don’t you think? A clumsy maid suddenly becoming skilled, even her personality changing. Almost like she’s… a different person.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart pounded wildly.
“I-I…”
Her gaze dropped, unable to meet his. It was as if he already knew.
As if he had seen straight through her disguise.
