Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 15

2

From the morning, Miesa was in a rush. Her tasks were delayed after being pestered by the maids.

She made a mess on the table with soup she scooped with her hands, and chewed up the embroidery on a discarded man’s shirt until her teeth ached.

Satisfied that she had completed half of her daily goals, she crinkled her nose and let out a pleased laugh as she moved on. In the living room, Margravine Cladnier was giving various instructions to the butler.

“Miesa. Did you sleep well?”

The Margravine’s demeanor was as usual. Miesa had worried that the man might have said something, but it seemed it was for nothing.

Just as always, she ignored the Margravine’s greeting and plopped down on the floor. The butler, unperturbed by the princess’s presence, continued his report to the Margravine.

“And regarding the repair of the garden fence, if we purchase Marjo wood, it will cost 2 Jeres per Caril. The total required amount is…”

As usual, Miesa listened to their conversation, mentally calculating everything. The material used for the palace garden fence costs 10 Jeres per Caril. Imported purple sandalwood from the southern islands, if she remembered correctly.

So imported materials that come by ship are too expensive for a house like this. Miesa glanced around the simple and tidy living room, finishing her mental calculations. Her knowledge was limited to the majestic white marble palace and the gray desolate Celia Palace, but it was enough.

“Labor costs 1 Jere per person per day, so in ten days…”

Miesa listened with closed eyes to the Margravine’s questions to the butler. The monthly salary for a palace lady-in-waiting was 60 Jeres, for a palace maid it was 45 Jeres, and the salary of the youngest maid in the palace laundry was 32 Jeres…

Miesa quickly did the math. How many hours do laborers work if they are paid daily? Their earnings seemed lower than that of the youngest maid in the laundry.

“Oh, and the dairy farm from the Lögenten estate has recently started producing butter and cheese. The price is high, but they say the quality is excellent.”

At the butler’s gesture, a servant brought in a tray. The Margravine elegantly sliced a piece of butter to taste and then called Miesa over. As Miesa crawled over and opened her mouth, a small piece was popped in.

“The butter costs 20 Pasls per Der.”

While her mouth worked, Miesa’s mind raced with numbers. A maid had once said a sack of flour costs 20 Pasls. So this small piece of butter, fitting in two hands, was worth as much as a sack of flour.

“Miesa, is it tasty?”

It was tasty. The fresh butter’s rich aroma filled her mouth and the nutty flavor lingered at her nose. Miesa chewed and swallowed quickly, opening her mouth again. The Margravine, pleased, patted her head.

“My goodness, you eat so well. This small amount costs 20 Pasls?”

“Yes, the butter we usually buy costs 4 Pasls.”

Wouldn’t it be better to buy flour instead? The man with black hair was worrying about the food supply for the people.

“Well… not everyone likes rich foods, so there’s no need to buy much. Order 5 Ders per week to bake cookies and bread for Miesa.”

Everyone seemed to eat well enough. Still, 5 Ders of butter per week for Miesa meant 100 Pasls, or 1 Jere. The laborer’s daily wage would provide Miesa with buttery treats for a week, and it was only the nutty flavor added to them. Miesa felt a lump in her throat and lay down quietly on the floor.

The man with black hair. And the black-haired man’s mother. They are happy when she eats. Why? Surely it wasn’t solely for her sake. There couldn’t be anyone in the world who genuinely cared for a “plague” like the princess.

Miesa scratched her thigh under her skirt, her thoughts drifting back to yesterday. When the king mentioned treason, she had been terrified. Anyone who heard that word from the king was as good as dead. She had taken a risk to help, but the black-haired man had been annoyingly persistent with his questions instead.

Her mood soured as she lay quietly with her eyes closed. She bit the Margravine’s slipper to make herself feel better. Ignoring the Margravine’s worried cooing made her feel a bit better.

***

The man with black hair came to fetch her. Though Miesa clung desperately to Margravine Cladnier’s skirt, letting out plaintive squeaks, the Margravine only found it endearing, continuously patting her head.

Though she didn’t mind the Margravine’s touch, it was frustrating that her signals to avoid going with the man were not understood. Did this woman have no experience with pets? Or perhaps, in her loneliness, she was raising her son’s wife as a substitute for a pet dog, spending her time simply stroking Miesa’s hair.

While Miesa grumbled internally, the man, feigning gentleness, lifted her into his arms and whispered quietly in her ear, “It would be best if you behaved. I haven’t told anyone about yesterday’s incident yet.”

The man’s threat was quite effective. Miesa quietly buried her head in his chest.

“You can eat on your own now, can’t you?”

She still disliked this man.

Once the servants left, he started eating by himself after making just that one comment. Miesa stared silently at the array of cutlery in front of her.

The servants at the Margrave’s household were always inefficient. Despite knowing she ate with her hands, they always laid out four forks and three knives.

Miesa watched the man’s actions and then straightened her back. She gently dropped her wrist, picking up the knife just so.

It felt awkward to hold cutlery for the first time in over a decade, her fingers not gripping properly. But she successfully cut a piece of pickled herring and lettuce, placing it in her mouth. The man’s eyebrows rose as he quietly observed her.

“As expected. You’re doing well.”

The moment she heard his compliment, Miesa promptly threw the fork and knife to the floor, using her hands to mash the pickled herring. The man’s eyes questioned her.

What will the maids think when they see the table clean later?

Miesa licked her fingers, making the man grimace. His reaction made her laugh out loud, a bark-like sound escaping her. She enjoyed seeing him unable to meet her gaze, avoiding her.

Yes, this was more comfortable. Trying to maintain decorum between them only made things awkward. As long as she kept up her crude behavior, the man would show his true colors.

He had no idea how to deal with her. Miesa laughed again, making sure to thoroughly lick up to her wrist.

“I understand. I’ll continue to feed you as I have been.”

At least he wasn’t completely oblivious.

Miesa opened her mouth and wiggled her tongue playfully. The man sighed, closing his eyes, and then cut the pickled herring in front of him, offering it to her.

After the meal, the Pointy came. This was unusual, as the Big one usually handled her baths.

Following obediently, Miesa pondered over it, remembering she hadn’t met her goal for the day.

She giggled as she stepped into the empty tub, knowing the icy cold water would soon pour over her body, even with the hot water bucket right beside it.

“How do you never catch a cold? A few days of rest would be nice.”

Exactly. I think so too. To express her enthusiastic agreement, Miesa yanked on the Pointy’s hair, cackling.

“You crazy bitch!”

The Pointy was angry. She grabbed Miesa’s head and shoved her into the water.

“Blub… blurgh…”

Her body twisted in pain, and the water stung as it entered her nose.

As she struggled with all her might, the hand suddenly let go.

What was happening? This wasn’t like her. The Pointy one wouldn’t stop here.

But Miesa didn’t even have time to properly grasp the situation. While she was coughing and spitting out water, hot water was suddenly poured over her. She opened her mouth wide and silently screamed.

“Oh my, how improper for the husband to personally attend to the bath,” the Pointy said, stalling for time. She poured the hot water over Miesa’s back as she spoke nonsense.

When Miesa tried to stand up to avoid it, the Pointy pressed down on her bony shoulders and said with a flourish towards the door, “Look at this. She tries to drown herself and then jumps out. Isn’t this a difficult task for you to take on?”

“All the more reason for me, her husband, to do it.”

The man had arrived. Meanwhile, her back was itching from the hot water being poured over it. Miesa scratched her back, wishing they would just decide quickly.