Maylily - Chapter 4

Should she greet him first?

Maylily soon realized that someone of her low status had no right to do so, and with a slightly eased heart, stood beside the table.

“Would you like to order?”

She promptly lowered her gaze to the notepad, deliberately ignoring the eyes fixed on her face and the refreshing scent that tickled her nose.

“Cottage pie and a beer.”

“There’s a bit of a wait since it’s busy… Would you like the beer first?”

“As you please.”

As if agreed upon, Maylily and the man acted like strangers. It was almost like a scene from a comically absurd play.

Did he come in on a whim while passing by? But if that were the case, there would be no reason to ask for her specifically… Could it be he wanted an apology? She thought she had paid enough of a price already…

Even as she moved around the dining hall, the confusion stirred by the Count refused to settle.

After setting the dish in front of the Count, Maylily still cast anxious glances his way. But after their eyes met two or three times, she consciously avoided looking in that direction.

Surely I won’t get kicked out of the restaurant too, right?

Her heart pounded with uncontrollable unease. But even as she laid the bill on the table at his request and turned to leave, the Count said nothing.

After clearing the table of a departing guest and passing along a new customer’s order to the kitchen, Maylily looked over to the window seat again—only to find the man gone. She felt a bit embarrassed, realizing she had been overly conscious of him for nothing.

Still, it’s a relief. That passed without incident.

With a sigh of relief, Maylily picked up an empty tray and walked to the window seat. The cottage pie, one of the restaurant’s most popular dishes, had barely been touched, as if it hadn’t suited the Count’s taste. The beer was the same.

At least eat a little more for the chef’s sake.

Thinking about how upset the chef, who took pride in his cooking, would be when he received the barely touched plate, made her feel down as well. Letting out a faint sigh, Maylily glanced over to the bill holder—and her mouth dropped open.

Inside was a bill covering the cost of the meal, along with a check for an amount far greater than her monthly salary.

“No way…”

Muttering in disbelief, Maylily picked up the check and found a sleek, stiff card beneath it. It was a business card with the man’s name and office address.

***

Finding the place written on the card wasn’t difficult. After commuting to the Roden Opera House for over half a year, she had passed by it dozens of times—it was one of Aberc’s landmarks.

Stepping off the carriage from the Cryer district where her boarding house was located, Maylily stopped in front of the building that never failed to impress her.

Even on the grand avenue of Aberc, lined with massive, ornate buildings, this one stood out for its extraordinary splendor. The words “Skaard Hotel” engraved in metal gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight.

Hugh Skaard Everscourt.

There had been a hint in his name…

Even after hearing the Count’s name, she hadn’t immediately thought of this hotel. The man seated at the top of Aberc society and herself, barely clinging to the city’s edge, seemed so far apart that she couldn’t imagine a point of connection.

Tilting her head back so far her neck ached just to see the top of the building, Maylily let out a heavy sigh and straightened her posture.

In front of this enormous structure, she felt like a mere speck. Even though she had put on her brightest dress and the shoes she reserved for important events.

Wandering near the granite fountain that added grandeur to the hotel’s façade, Maylily checked her handbag to make sure the check was still there.

After agonizing over it all night, Maylily had come to the conclusion that the check was a warning—or perhaps a threat—from Count Everscourt.

No matter how generously one might interpret the service she had provided the Count yesterday, it hadn’t been remarkable enough to merit such a large sum. If it were an apology or consolation for her dismissal, he wouldn’t have disappeared without a word, leaving only the check behind.

The Count was the kind of man who could casually spend what amounted to Maylily’s monthly salary on a single unsatisfying meal. By flaunting that fact, it was as if he meant to remind her that she could never dare to stand on equal footing with him. Or perhaps it was an attempt to flaunt his wealth in hopes of swaying her heart.

One thing was clear: if she ignored this signal, her ill-fated connection with the Count wouldn’t end here. Next, she might find herself fired from the restaurant, or even evicted from her boarding house.

Tossing and turning all night in anxiety, Maylily finally decided at dawn to seek out the Count. She wanted to return the check that wasn’t hers, and politely apologize again for the previous incident, hoping to put an end to things once and for all.

She couldn’t go on living in constant fear like this.

Taking a deep, bracing breath as if to steel herself, Maylily finally stepped toward the hotel’s grand entrance.

Under a chandelier draped with shimmering, multicolored crystals, the hotel lobby was adorned with marble, crimson velvet, and broad-leaved exotic plants—far more luxurious than she had imagined based on the exterior.

Weaving through well-dressed guests whose attire matched the grandeur, Maylily spotted the front desk at the back of the right-hand side of the space, where paintings and sculptures were stylishly arranged. Of the three employees, two were already assisting guests, so she approached the remaining one.

“Hello. Could you tell me how I might meet Count Everscourt?”

The staff member, her hair styled high in the latest fashion and lips painted a bold red, openly scanned Maylily from head to toe. In that swift appraisal, a look of contempt flashed through her eyes.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but the Count gave me this card…”

Maylily hurriedly pulled the business card from her pocket. With a quick glance at it, the employee let out a sigh and began to speak.

“You can’t expect to meet someone like him just because you have his card—”

But as her annoyed voice trailed off, the employee seemed to recall something and paused. She studied Maylily’s face and hair more closely.

“What’s your name?”

“Maylily Aile.”

With a slight nod, the employee flipped through a notebook beside her and checked something before stepping out from behind the desk.

“Follow me.”

She led Maylily down a hallway branching off in the opposite direction from where she had entered. At the end of the hallway stood a room with a barred front. It was so small that even with people packed closely together, it could only hold about six at most.

“Seventh floor.”

It wasn’t until Maylily stood next to the uniformed man already inside that she realized the words were addressed to him. He nodded and slid the barred door closed. In the next moment, the floor jolted.

An earthquake? Alarmed, Maylily turned her head, but the others looked perfectly calm. Meanwhile, the scene outside the door began to descend. No—more precisely, the room was rising.

As she shook off her confusion, she realized this was the elevator she had only ever heard about. Around the time that realization hit, the room came to a halt.

Click. The man opened the door and said, “Seventh floor.”

In the office to which she was led, Maylily finally met Count Everscourt’s secretary.

“Welcome, Miss Aile. I saw you briefly at the opera house, though I’m not sure if you remember. I’m David Curren, secretary to Count Everscourt.”

“Hello, Mr. Curren. I remember seeing you outside the director’s office.”

Unable to bring herself to return the bright smile of someone who seemed unaware of all that had transpired, Maylily lowered her head awkwardly.

“I’m flattered you remembered me. What brings you to the Count today?”

“I’d like to apologize for my previous rudeness. I also have something to return.”

“I see. As it happens, the Count is in his office right now. I’ll check if he can receive you. Please wait just a moment.”

“Yes, thank you.”

David guided Maylily to a nearby table and then stepped away. While waiting, she unwrapped her scarf and neatly folded it, then checked to make sure every button on her coat was properly fastened.

Before long, David returned.

“The Count will see you now.”

“Alright.”

I must do this properly—no mistakes today!

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maylily rose from her seat. As she followed David, her chest pounded with nerves.