Miss Charlotte’s Case Journal - Chapter 1

Case 1. Doubt everything.

The maid woke up in the dim light of dawn. She wanted desperately to sleep a little longer, but if she didn’t want to get scolded, she had no choice but to get up right away. Grumbling, she sat up.

The first thing she did was go down to the kitchen to draw hot water. Another maid she was close with suggested she just wash up in the shared bathroom near the kitchen, but she smiled awkwardly and shook her head.

“What’s with you lately? You don’t hang out with us anymore.”

Her friend complained, but the maid only smiled awkwardly again and picked up her bucket. “Hurry up and wash. I’ll keep your bread for you.” The maid was touched by her friend’s kindness and quickly hurried off.

That evening, the maid sat crouched in a corner by the stairs, secretly rubbing her aching legs. “I’m dying here, seriously,” she muttered, pouting.

“Hey!”

Startled by the hand tapping her shoulder, she turned around. Seeing her friend smiling brightly, the maid let out a deep sigh of relief and whispered, “I thought it was the head maid.”

“Why would the head maid be here right now? Madam will be home soon.”

Her friend glanced toward the entrance as she spoke. The maid peeked out too. A stern-looking woman stood by the door, waiting to greet the lady of the house.

Time passed before the door finally opened, and a woman in a splendid dress stepped into the mansion with elegant grace. The head maid’s stiff face softened into a smile as she personally took the lady’s outer garment, nodding at every word she spoke while following behind her.

Watching that, the friend murmured, “Ah, I’m so jealous.”

“Huh?”

“Our madam. She’s beautiful, noble, her husband’s rich, and he treats her so well. What does she have to worry about? It’s commoners like us who have to worry about food and money, right?”

“But… Madam still doesn’t have a child,” the maid mumbled as she held her stomach.

Her friend shrugged. “They’re both still young, what’s the problem? It hasn’t even been three years since they got married. The baby will come soon enough.”

“You there!”

At the sudden, icy voice, both girls jumped to their feet. The head maid, who had appeared without a sound, glared at the two for slacking off.

“Are your chores all done, and you’re just idling here now?”

“S-sorry, ma’am.”

“We’re sorry, ma’am. Please forgive us just this once.”

The head maid let out a deep sigh. Knowing how hard their work was, she decided to let it go this time but urged them to get back to it.

“Madam’s looking for the master. He’s still in the bedchamber, isn’t he?”

“I-I’m not sure. He was there this morning, but….”

“Go see if he’s still sleeping, and if he is, wake him. Tell him Madam wishes to dine with him. If he’s not in the room, come back and report to me.”

The maid bowed deeply and hurried away. Terrified that the head maid might still be watching her, she nearly ran all the way to the master’s chamber. Catching her breath, she carefully knocked on the door.

“Master, are you awake?”

There was no response from inside. The maid cautiously opened the door and stepped in.

A man lay face down on the large, ornate bed. The maid carefully approached. His face was buried in the white, fluffy blanket, and he looked as though he were fast asleep.

“Master, the sun’s already setting. Please wake up now.”

Even at the maid’s words, the man didn’t stir. In the end, she reached out to grab his shoulder and shake him. Or rather, she tried to.

Something felt wrong. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she couldn’t feel any warmth at all, and his shoulder was hard, like touching wood, not flesh.

“…Master?”

With trembling hands, the maid pushed at his body with force. The moment his face slowly came into view, her features twisted, and she screamed.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

The man’s mouth was smeared with vomit, as if he’d regurgitated something, and his eyes were wide open, pupils lifeless and unfocused.

The man was dead.

***

It was pitch black all around. She couldn’t tell where she was. No matter how much time passed, her eyes wouldn’t adjust to the dark. Even when she reached out her hands, nothing touched them. She wasn’t even sure if she was standing on solid ground.

Just as the fear from the darkness was slowly turning into despair, a faint light appeared in the distance. It flickered up and down, as if calling her to come closer. Groping her way forward, she walked toward the light. The nearer she got, the more the hazy glow began to take shape.

Suddenly, the ground shook and a gust of wind blew past. She gasped and shut her eyes tight. The wind was so sharp it felt like it could slice her skin, making her body instinctively shrink back. When she slowly opened her eyes again, the light that had been far away was now right before her, clearly visible. She flinched in surprise and dropped to the ground.

“Oh dear, little one. Did you see this?”

The man looked utterly ordinary. No, he even looked kind. The awkward, troubled smile on his face made him seem that way. He laughed lightly, running a hand along his jaw.

In the next instant, the man’s expression twisted into that of a brutal murderer. His eyes gleamed. The knife in his hand clattered to the floor with a sharp clang. Stepping on the corpse beneath him, he walked closer. A dull crack sounded as bones were crushed. The stench of blood clung wetly to her skin. She tried to run, but her body wouldn’t move. The man grinned and reached out his hand toward her.

“Ah…!”

Charlotte gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. The world spun, and a heavy thud jolted her waist. Dazed, she opened her eyes to see a familiar ceiling above her.

Charlotte lay on the floor where she had fallen from bed, blinking blankly for a moment.

…it was a dream.

She buried her face in the blanket that had fallen with her. It smelled of sun-dried cotton and fresh soap. Slowly steadying her ragged breathing, she bit her lip. As the sweat on her body cooled, a chill ran through her shoulders.

Chirp, chirp. The sound of birds outside the window eased the tension in her nerves. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte crawled back into bed and pressed her face into the pillow, only to suddenly jerk upright.

What time is it?

***

She was doomed. Charlotte clutched her head and slumped over her desk, letting out a deep sigh.

It was one of those days when nothing went right, she thought. Sleeping in late, getting her hair caught in a button while dressing in a rush, the carriage wheel stuck on the way to work, getting scolded by her superior for being late, and now this assignment, too!

As Charlotte flailed in frustration, someone clicked their tongue and patted her on the shoulder.

“Don’t hate it so much. At least once you finish this, you can go home early, right?”

Charlotte lifted her head with a gloomy look. Eugene’s face came into view. His eyes were dark and tired, as if he hadn’t slept well either.

“Still, this isn’t right. How am I supposed to do an autopsy, Senior?”

“You can do it because it’s you. It’s not just some average nobleman, but a wealthy baron. People like us wouldn’t even be allowed to touch him.”

“But….”

Charlotte knew Eugene was right. The body brought in today was that of the second son of a well-known noble family from Leaphol, the capital of Essenharn. Although he had moved out to live independently, he had settled in a city right next to Leaphor, made a fortune with his sharp business sense, and was even granted a baronial title by the imperial court—a nearly impossible feat in these times.

Normally, there would never have been an autopsy on a nobleman’s corpse. The Church taught that mutilating a body would cause the soul to lose its way, unable to return to god’s embrace, and wander forever. No matter how much Charlotte tried to insist that autopsies were not acts of desecration but a means to reveal the truth and prevent injustice in death, the nobility never listened.

Charlotte stared at the man’s name written on the report. Alex Turobe. He should’ve received a pious and grand funeral in his home, buried in his family’s tomb. If not for his family in the capital insisting there was something suspicious about his death, that’s exactly what would’ve happened.

Either way, the man had been brought to the morgue, and someone had to perform the autopsy to uncover the cause of his death. But who would dare? Everyone here was either a commoner, a fallen noble, or at best, someone from a minor noble family. If anything went wrong and they provoked the wrong people, they wouldn’t just lose their jobs, but they could be sued or even imprisoned. Everyone except Charlotte.

Charlotte was the only “true noble” working here. The Robern Marquisate, one of the most prominent families in Leaphor, had three children. The eldest son, who became the head of the family at a young age, was a member of the Central Assembly. The second son served as a colonel in the Essenharn Imperial Army. And Charlotte was the youngest daughter of House Robern.

Eugene shook his head as he watched Charlotte’s lips tremble. Titles like “senior” and “junior,” “superior” and “subordinate” didn’t mean much here. Everyone in this place—himself included—were people who ordinarily wouldn’t even get to see someone like Charlotte.

Even if the Turobe family caused a scene over the results of the autopsy, it would be smoothed over quickly if Charlotte was the one handling it. Eugene felt a bit guilty for using his junior as a shield, but he still agreed with the director: she was the only one who could do it.