The Whipping Maid of House Calley - Chapter 33

Sheila was about to carry the last cheese inside when she turned her head at Sam’s voice.

“Has the Young Count said anything?”

Even though no one was around, Sam lowered his voice. Since he came regularly, he even knew the servants had changed Cedric’s title to reflect his status as the heir.

“No. He didn’t say anything.”

Sheila reassured him.

“You know you can’t water it down or anything like that, right?”

The way he asked, full of implication, made Sheila suspicious, so she warned him first.

“O-of course… of course,” Sam quickly replied and climbed onto his horse.

His evasiveness was suspicious, but there was nothing more she could say.

‘If he doesn’t want the deal cut off, he’ll handle it properly.’

Sheila, who had her own hands full with the whipping‑maid business, stopped worrying about others and headed back into the kitchen.

She sorted the dairy products with practiced ease and began cutting the cheese for the day, just as always. The moment the knife slid cleanly through the cheese, it lifted her mood.

Thinking about finishing quickly and going upstairs to rest made her feel even better.

Just then, something caught Sheila’s eye.

It was the round pepper mill used at the masters’ dining table.

Her hand, which had been cutting cheese, stopped on its own. Sheila reached out and picked up the pepper mill.

The solids wooden pepper mill fit firmly in her grasp.

As if possessed, Sheila brought the pepper mill to her stomach.

‘Was it about this size…?’

Feeling the solid pressure against her stomach, Sheila jerked in shock and set it down as if she’d been burned.

Her face had gone as red as a beet.

She hastily set the pepper mill upright again and resumed cutting cheese. Even as she deliberately avoided looking at it, her head was already filled with heat.

***

In preparation for the evening lesson, Judith made Sheila do her Lotas-language homework.

“Miss, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a saying that if you leave a tail too long, someone will step on it.”

Sheila tried to reason with her.

It wasn’t just because she was worried they’d get caught. Judith needed to study if she wanted her grades to improve. But Judith didn’t seem interested in learning at all.

Every time the punishment happened, she cried as if the world were ending, yet she still refused to study. Sheila truly couldn’t understand the mind of this thirteen-year-old noble girl.

“How ignorant. Humans don’t have tails! Someone has to have a tail for it to get stepped on.”

Faced with Judith’s astounding ignorance, Sheila lost the will to argue.

“Still, miss, you need to write it yourself to memorize….”

But before Sheila could finish urging her one last time, a sharp crack rang out across her cheek.

Judith had slapped her.

It wasn’t even as if she’d startled her in her sleep; the girl had simply lost her temper.

“What? Who are you trying to teach?”

Judith exploded the moment Sheila repeated the kind of scolding countless tutors had said to her before.

“Who said I wouldn’t memorize? I’ll memorize while watching you write! My hands hurt from playing the violin yesterday, not that you’d know anything about that! How dare a maid talk back to me!”

Ever since she’d become the whipping maid, she’d had her calves and thighs beaten until they burned, but it had been a long time since she’d been slapped across the face.

“…I’m sorry, miss.”

Sheila, stunned by the sudden smack, quickly apologized. If she didn’t, she’d only receive more punishment.

Judith’s words might’ve been nonsense in every other way, but when it came to Sheila’s position, she was absolutely right. If she wanted to avoid getting fired from this mansion and keep surviving “as a mere maid,” she had to do whatever her young mistress ordered.

‘Right, who do I think I am? As Miss Judith said, as long as I don’t get caught….’

Sheila pressed hard as she copied Judith’s handwriting, carefully filling the notebook.

And as always, lesson time arrived.

***

“Twenty… nine mistakes.”

Sheila lied for the first time.

There were twenty‑four wrong answers on the test, and eight wrong answers during lesson time. A total of thirty‑two. She’d reduced the number by three on purpose.

Three fewer strikes might sound insignificant, but to Sheila, each and every hit was a life‑or‑death threshold. And whenever the count reached the next ten, her fear spiked dramatically. It was probably psychological.

Today too, the paddle hung by the fireplace alongside the cane.

As expected, Cedric picked up the paddle.

Not only Sheila, but Judith also tensed up.

Cedric’s cold expression was more terrifying than usual. If his normal face resembled an ice sculpture, then now he was like a massive glacier.

Sheila had planned to try negotiating to be hit with anything other than the paddle, but she didn’t even dare open her mouth.

Maybe she should just collapse after one hit…?

For a brief moment, Sheila desperately ran through every possible trick.

She’d done her best to take the beatings faithfully for the past month, but now she was at her limit.

“Listen carefully, Judith.”

Cedric finally spoke while holding the paddle.

“Starting today, while your maid is getting beaten, you’ll go down to your room and write each wrong word ten times.”

“…What?” Judith repeated blankly, her face full of clueless innocence.

Sheila, stuck in her place like an object meant to be beaten, had no right to say anything. She only looked at Cedric.

There had been a few times when Judith was sent away in the middle of the beating or before it even began, but this was different. He was officially announcing Judith’s “release” from staying during Sheila’s punishments.

Sheila had always told herself it didn’t matter whether Judith was present or not. Getting beaten was the same, and having a noisy spectator didn’t make anything better. She’d rationalized it that way.

But this was different.

Just as Sheila raised her hand cautiously to object, Cedric continued, “If you ever make your maid do your homework again, I won’t let you off.”

Both Sheila and Judith froze with their mouths open.

‘He found out?’

So that’s why he seemed angrier today?

“There’s no point in using a whipping maid if you’re going to do something like that again, right?”

Sheila was so shocked she couldn’t even breathe properly. At that moment, she felt a burning glare.

She turned her head. As expected, Judith was staring daggers at her.

Startled, Sheila quickly shook her head at Judith to say it wasn’t her.

Sheila had never once told Cedric about doing Judith’s homework. She wasn’t reckless enough to invite death upon herself.

Cedric asked again, “Judith, you know what happens in this room after you leave, right?”

Judith finally tore her gaze away from Sheila and answered obediently, “My precious maid gets beaten in my place.”

‘Precious…!’

Right… that’s not what matters right now.

Sheila shook her head.

Cedric looked down at Judith with a cold gaze. “Go downstairs and do your homework. Remember what I told you earlier.”

Both Sheila and Judith, shocked from being found out, had completely forgotten his warning.

“…I won’t let you off. There’s no point in using a whipping maid if you’re going to do something like that again, right?”

It was a stern warning that if Judith tried that again, the one getting beaten wouldn’t be Sheila but Judith herself.

Judith, nodding quickly, scurried out of the room.

Her sense for danger was disturbingly sharp.

Now, only Sheila was left in the room.

***

“How long did you think I’d pretend not to notice?” Cedric asked in a tone that implied he’d known from the start.

Like a fragile animal cornered by a hunter, Sheila trembled all over. All her earlier thoughts about tricking him evaporated instantly, and Sheila dropped flat onto the floor.

“I-I was wrong. I’m sorry, Young Count. I… I just did what the young lady told me to….”

Just like when the pain was unbearable, when fear became overwhelming, her ability to speak disappeared too.

While Sheila stammered out her excuse, having just gained a painful enlightenment, Cedric pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her, just like last time.

“So, it’s all Judith’s fault?”

Sheila couldn’t find the right answer.

But she felt wronged. She was only a maid; she had no way to refuse her mistress. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to stop Judith.

“Do you feel wronged?” Cedric asked, as if reading her mind. “You think you’re an honest and diligent maid who just had the misfortune of getting caught up in this?”

Sheila shook her head. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter. A maid’s virtue was saying no, even while getting beaten.

But Cedric was right. She was just an ordinary maid who lived her life working honestly and diligently.

Tears fell one by one from her eyes.

Then Cedric quietly asked, “What about lying about the number of wrong answers?”

Sheila froze mid‑sob. Her wide eyes lifted to him, filled with fear. His lips were curved in a smile, but his eyes were absolutely not.

“Are you going to say Judith made you do that too?”

Sheila opened and closed her mouth soundlessly.

“You know as well as I do that Judith got twenty‑four questions wrong on the test, and eight wrong when answering me. It wasn’t a simple miscalculation on your part….”

The faint smile disappeared completely from his lips.

“You dared to deceive me?”

His accusation made Sheila choke on her breath.

“No… I… that’s not what I….”

Sheila barely forced out a denial. She had lied about the number, but she’d never intended to deceive her master. She’d only wanted to avoid three extra strikes. That was all.

But how on earth did he know?

Sheila had never imagined she’d be caught so easily. How could he possibly know the exact count after teaching three subjects in a row?

“How did I know?”

He read not only the number of wrong answers but her thoughts as well.

“It’s impossible not to know something that simple, Sheila. Did you think because Judith’s a fool, her brother must be one too?”

Cedric drove her into a corner relentlessly. Sheila shook her head urgently, but in truth, he was right. In the end, she had lied with the intention of deceiving him.

Deceiving someone was called “deception.” That was a universal rule.

For trying to avoid just three strikes, Sheila had deceived her master. She no longer had the right to claim she’d been wronged.

“Stand up,” he ordered. “Stand up, hold onto the fireplace, and bare your backside.”