The Whipping Maid of House Calley - Chapter 85

After Cedric left following Eloise’s maid, Sheila, who’d been fidgeting for no good reason, went to Sylvia’s room.

When Sheila asked if there was anything she needed done, Sylvia answered brightly.

“There isn’t.”

Sylvia was the type to handle most things on her own, and Sheila already chose the dress Sylvia would wear to the evening banquet.

Seeing Sheila looking oddly anxious, Sylvia added, “Just help with my dress before the banquet. Party dresses are really hard to put on by yourself.”

“Yes, of course, miss.”

Sheila replied quickly, but to Sylvia’s eyes, Sheila still looked a little different from usual.

“By the way, what’s Cedric doing right now?”

“…Pardon?”

Startled more than necessary, Sheila collected herself and answered.

“He’s meeting a guest right now.”

“It’s not Lady Eloise Vivarini, is it?”

“…It is.”

At Sheila’s hesitant reply, Sylvia muttered to herself, “What, so I’m too late.”

Then she smiled at Sheila again and said, “All right, then go do your work, Sheila.”

After withdrawing from Sylvia’s room, Sheila had no choice but to return to Cedric’s room.

Throughout the event, Cedric’s secretary, Rufus, was busy meeting guests, so the room was empty.

Sheila picked up a fresh rag. She was about to finish the cleaning she’d been doing before helping Cedric change earlier, when snacks arrived.

Even during the event, his snacks were delivered to the room on schedule, and Sheila spent that time with him. Someone had to take care of the leftovers in place of the man who ate like a bird.

She set the delivered snacks on the table, then worried about the tea cooling, and Cedric came in earlier than expected.

Seeing her standing in front of the snack tray, he said, “You’re not eating first?”

“…Pardon?”

This is for the Young Count….

“Forget it. Sit.”

As if he already knew what she was going to say, he cut off her objection and sat down.

Even so, Sheila couldn’t sit.

After he finished his business, there were plenty of times he made sure she ate, but snacks delivered separately to the Young Count’s room were clearly meant for him.

Then if he left some, she handled it….

“I can’t eat all of it anyway, so sit,” Cedric said, as if he could read exactly what she was thinking again.

Only then did Sheila sit down across from him.

Cedric took a bite of Martin’s mille-feuille that had been brought up as a snack.

After tasting it, Cedric thought it had the kind of flavor and texture Sheila would like.

Instead of the black tea that came with it, Cedric rinsed his mouth with the water beside him, then ordered Sheila, “Eat the rest.”

Even though he sounded unusually impatient today, Sheila quietly answered, “Yes,” and brought the mille-feuille to her mouth.

The properly baked layers of pastry crumbled crisply in Sheila’s mouth. Between the sweet pastry layers, the tangy lemon cream didn’t separate, blending into a balanced flavor. After tasting the mille-feuille, Sheila’s light brown eyes trembled.

Without thinking, Sheila crossed her arms and nodded.

‘Interesting.’

Pastry crumbs that shattered with that interesting texture fell onto her soft lips.

Cedric watched Sheila as she enjoyed the dessert.

Her lips, which worked busily as she chewed and swallowed whatever he gave her. Her delicate little nose, rising neatly in the center of her tiny face. Her pale, translucent skin that showed every emotion honestly.

Seeing her eat Lotas-style snacks so well one day, bringing a pâtissier all the way from Lotas and hiring him turned out to be a better decision than Cedric expected.

Because it meant he could see sights like this every day.

She was obviously a woman who’d never even been able to buy herself a proper snack while pinching pennies, so everything must feel new to her.

Unlike him, who disliked sweet foods, Sheila liked sweets.

So he told Martin to put out desserts that leaned sweet, but Sheila couldn’t handle things that were nothing but sugar. At most, she’d pick up one or two and then stop. It meant she didn’t eat everything just because it was sweet.

After that, he had Martin prepare desserts with a variety of textures and moderate sweetness, and then she ate them like that, like a little baby bird.

Cedric deliberately tasted at least one bite of each dessert.

It was to figure out the point where the woman felt satisfied.

It was the same when he had sex. He carefully watched and observed her to see at what point her body reacted, at what point she grew so aroused her eyes lost focus, and how her moans changed depending on the level of excitement.

Just watching the white, marshmallow-like woman eat sweets that suited her was enough to soften Cedric’s mood, which had been thoroughly soured.

Feeling his gaze, Sheila glanced up and asked cautiously, “It’s good… aren’t you having any more?”

“Eat plenty,” Cedric said gently.

At his expression, different from when he left the room earlier, Sheila felt her throat tighten.

‘Did things go well with Lady Eloise?’

At his urging, Sheila picked up another dessert, but for some reason, her appetite was gone.

“What’s this pastry called?” Sheila asked, changing the subject.

“Mille-feuille.”

“It’s really delicious.”

She meant it. It really was delicious, yet for some reason, it wouldn’t go down. It was strange. She wasn’t a big eater, but she always ate well, and she’d never lost her appetite before….

She didn’t know why, but Sheila somehow hoped Cedric wouldn’t notice something was off about her.

So instead of eating, she searched for something to say, and a question surfaced in her mind.

“Young Count, may I ask you one thing in Lotas?”

“One thing?”

When he repeated her words, his expression looked incredulous.

The Sheila who was about to ask the question shrank back.

In fact, even if there was something she wondered about during Judith’s lessons, Sheila never asked a single question.

Because that time was for Judith, not for her.

And for a maid to overhear a young lady’s lesson, even if it reached her ears naturally, and then ask questions herself, really did seem presumptuous.

Still, ever since she became Cedric’s maid, he’d clearly given her books at a level she could read and encouraged her to study. So she thought asking questions was allowed, but….

“I’m sorry….”

Just as the sound of her voice shrinking away was about to slip out, Cedric spoke again.

“Only one thing you’re curious about? Sounds like you know the rest already.”

Ha…! Who said that?

It clearly wasn’t a rebuke about her overstepping, but did he really have to phrase it like that?

Reading Sheila’s deflating expression, Cedric cleared his throat and asked, “So, what are you curious about?”

At his blunt question, Sheila gathered her courage again.

“I saw the word ‘maid’ before, but I wasn’t sure how to pronounce it properly.”

Beloica and Lotas, neighboring countries, used the same writing system. But since each region had its own linguistic characteristics, differences in spelling were inevitable.

With steady study, even without formal explanations of grammar, a person naturally learned to distinguish those differences. But when first starting out, it was difficult to produce accurate pronunciation just by looking at the letters. Pronunciation aside, there was also local intonation, so reproducing it exactly without hearing it directly was nearly impossible.

「Maid.」

「Maid.」

When Cedric demonstrated the correct pronunciation without any fuss, Sheila mimicked his intonation and pronunciation exactly, like a parrot.

“That’s right. Anything else you’re curious about?”

At his words, Sheila brought out several other questions she’d been holding onto.

“That one’s silent. In our language too, there are cases where we don’t pronounce something exactly as it’s written and treat it as silent, but Lotas has more silent letters. It’s best to memorize those words separately whenever they come up.”

Even though he only pointed out a few things, Sheila felt as if the blockage in her chest had been cleared.

As if to make up for his earlier sarcasm, he added, “Having questions means you know that much more. If you know nothing, there’s nothing to ask.”

With his guidance instantly clearing what had felt stuck, Sheila forgot that she’d thought him unpleasant earlier and fired off an admiring gaze without restraint.

“So if there’s something you don’t know, don’t hesitate to ask. Knowledge is power, and what’s in your head is an asset no one can take away.”

Even though it was obvious advice, the woman, transparent as clear glass, couldn’t hide her moved expression.

As if he’d been waiting for moments like this, Cedric genuinely welcomed her questions.

According to what he knew, Sheila, who never had the chance to receive an education, learned to read when she was fifteen while working at a general store. After losing her father in a coal mine warehouse explosion and after her older sister married, Sheila worked at that shop, and through an acquaintance there, she found her connection here and came to work as a maid.

Sheila was making good use of the literacy she picked up late.

That much was clear just from the fact that she kept her own ledger.

And by attending Judith’s lessons and doing Judith’s homework in her place, practicing her writing, Sheila’s skills improved rapidly.

She was better than Judith to begin with. Every time he saw her hesitate with her lips when Judith asked a question she already knew the answer to, or mark the number of wrong answers on the paper she was holding before he even said it was incorrect, Cedric thought so.

With her learning more, she wouldn’t end up signing strange contracts later on.

That was why Cedric gave her books. He wanted a woman with the worst luck imaginable to live a steady life from now on, without getting tangled up with a man like him again.

“Finish eating,” Cedric said.

“Yes….”

Sheila answered softly and took another bite, splitting the half-sized mille-feuille in half again. The crumbs falling from her lips stole Cedric’s gaze.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.