Chapter 1: The Berkshire Family Became Her Lifeline Part 5

The endless laundry produced by the estate’s renovations continued to be handed over to Marien. Though working alone was hard, she didn’t entirely dislike it.

The path to the laundry passed through the splendid gardens of the Berkshire estate, making it an exhilarating time for Marien.

As she passed through the gardens, Marien admired the flowers blooming at the end of spring. It wasn’t just the flowers she noticed. On the second day, and again on the third, she saw Young Master Tamilan.

He would sometimes recline on the long stone bench, reading a book, or sit quietly, propping his chin on his hand as though deep in thought.

So Marien came to realize: this was where Young Master Tamilan liked to relax, and his more casual, unguarded side could only be seen here.

Today, there was an unusually large amount of laundry. It seemed the estate’s renovations were nearing their midpoint.

The season at the Berkshire estate changed day by day.

In the main building, candles scented with lime and mint filled the air with a refreshing, invigorating fragrance. Delicate lace curtains fluttered softly in the breeze.

The lace curtains Marien had worked on were completed that morning. The head housekeeper had been so pleased that Marien felt a quiet sense of pride.

While she was energetically stepping on the laundry, she heard footsteps she was becoming familiar with.

It was Young Master Tamilan.

From her awkward position inside the laundry tub, she greeted him.

Thanks to his words that she need not come out of the tub just to greet him, she felt a bit more comfortable.

“Hello, young master.”

Tamilan nodded briefly in response, acknowledging her greeting. Marien hurriedly resumed her work. With so much laundry, she had no time to think about the young master.

Would she be able to finish before midnight?

As she focused intently on her work, dusk fell unnoticed.

Marien stretched her arms wide inside the tub.

Just a bit more to go.

By now, the young master has surely gone back.

She glanced at the stone bench, relieved to see it empty. Thinking she might rest for just a moment, she turned her body.

“Ahh—!”

Startled, Marien lost her balance and fell.

It turned out that Young Master Tamilan hadn’t left yet—he was right there, very close.

With a splash, Marien landed on the laundry, but it didn’t hurt since it was cushioned by the wet clothes.

However, her skirt soaked up water and became so heavy that it was difficult to stand.

Tamilan sighed softly as he watched her, then stepped closer to the laundry tub and extended his hand.

“Thank you, Young Master Tamilan.”

Marien cautiously took his hand and gasped softly.

She had always assumed that nobles would have smooth and soft hands, but his were unexpectedly rough, with many scars on the back. It made sense, considering that Berkshire was renowned as a martial family, and he himself was likely a knight.

“Aren’t you going to stand up?”

“Um…”

Even while holding his hand, Marien struggled to get up. Seeing this, Tamilan offered his other hand.

With both hands gripping hers, before Marien could even brace herself, he gave her a gentle but firm pull.

Marien stood up easily thanks to him, but her skirt, heavy with water, made her stumble.

As she nearly fell again, Tamilan caught her by the waist. In that moment, Marien instinctively forgot to breathe.

He was right there, close enough that she could feel his breath, and the warmth of his palm on her soaked waist was scorching.

“Don’t move.”

“…….”

Because of the tub’s height, Marien’s eye level now matched his. It was the first time she had ever seen him this close, and her expression turned dazed.

His deep, blue eyes seemed to pull her in like an abyss.

Just like the first time they met, it felt as if time had stopped and everything was moving in slow motion.

“…….”

Marien only came back to her senses when the cool sensation returned to her waist.

He had let go of her.

But she was about to lose her composure for another reason altogether.

Young Master Tamilan lowered his head and began slowly pulling Marien’s soaked skirt toward him.

“Ah, young master…”

“Stay still.”

As she flustered and staggered again, Tamilan gave her another steadying instruction.

“Marien Reed. Put your hands on my shoulders.”

“Ah…”

Marien awkwardly placed both hands on his shoulders, finally managing to stand properly.

He sighed softly.

She’s so clumsy—falling easily, unable to stand up on her own, lacking even basic balance. From his perspective as a knight, she seemed hopelessly delicate.

Having observed her over the past few days, he found it a mystery how she managed to handle all that laundry alone. No doubt she wouldn’t even be able to properly wring out the waterlogged skirt without falling again.

Gathering the fabric to squeeze the water out, Tamilan felt a peculiar sense of responsibility toward this maid, though his original intent had only been to ask a few questions.

As he tightened his grip to wring the fabric, the pale, slender calves beneath the gathered skirt caught his eye. Her knees and ankles were tinged with a soft, peach-colored hue.

The sight was so unexpected—he had been focused solely on wringing out the water—that his eyes widened slightly.

His steady breath faltered for a fleeting moment.

“…….”

For Marien, the situation felt almost unreal, as if it were a dream. At some point, Tamilan’s face had drawn so close it nearly touched hers.

Her cold fingers, trembling with tension, rested on his shoulders. The warmth transmitted through his thin shirt was like the tingling sensation of dipping one’s hand into warm water.

Biting her lip, Marien took a deep breath, uncertain where to direct her gaze, and then stopped breathing altogether.

The crisp scent of a forest, emanating from him, collided and mingled between them, growing increasingly rich in the confined space.

The wet fabric, the sound of their breaths—these, fortunately, masked the thunderous beat of her heart.

Her skirt was wrung several times in his hands.

The fabric crinkled from the force of the wringing. Had she tried it alone, it would have taken her ages, but with just a few squeezes from him, her skirt felt noticeably lighter.

As Tamilan spread the skirt out again, he lifted his head, a sense of relief evident on his face. His deep blue eyes sparkled like gemstones, mirroring her own ruby-red eyes that gazed back at him.

His gaze traced from her smooth, curved nose to her delicate, rosy lips.

It was only then that Tamilan realized just how close they were, close enough for their breaths to mingle. His expression tensed.

“…….”

Taking a step back, as if he had finished what he needed to do, Marien’s hands slipped away from his shoulders.

Tamilan frowned slightly as he looked at her thoroughly crumpled skirt.

“Is it always like this?”

Marien hastily patted her skirt with her palms to smooth it out, but it didn’t seem to satisfy him.

“Ah, this fabric wrinkles easily, that’s why. Thank you, young master.”

As Marien expressed her thanks, her face flushed red, Tamilan gazed at her silently.

“Why are you working alone?”

“Pardon?”

“There are usually two or three people working together. Why are you alone?”

“That’s… I just prefer working alone.”

To explain why she was working alone, she would have to bring up Lisa’s story, but it didn’t seem like Young Master Tamilan was asking for such a detailed explanation.

She figured he was simply curious about a maid working alone and awkwardly mumbled her reply.

“All that work, and you prefer to handle it alone?”

Tamilan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Seeing his skeptical look, Marien flustered.

“Though there’s a lot of work, it’s quiet, and also… Ah, young master, why do you always wander around alone?”

She had asked the question to divert his attention, but once the words left her mouth, Marien realized she had overstepped.

Wasn’t it rude for a maid to question her master’s behavior?

But before she could dwell on it, Tamilan answered without hesitation.

“I also prefer being alone.”

Tamilan’s brows furrowed as he replayed his own words in his mind.

Though he clearly preferred being alone, for some reason, he had spent several days relaxing in this maid’s presence. Even if he wasn’t concerned about the servants’ gazes, it should have bothered him by now—but it didn’t.

Setting aside this uncharacteristic behavior, how had today gone?

He had done something he’d never done before.

His still-damp palm was proof of that.

Feeling another wave of inexplicable frustration, Tamilan reached to adjust his cravat—only to stop midway, realizing he hadn’t worn one to begin with today.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to organize his thoughts, and when he opened them, the intense blue light in his gaze faded, quickly concealing his inner turmoil.

Tamilan looked at her with a face carefully masked in indifference, and Marien averted her gaze.

Whenever she looked at him, she felt inexplicably captivated. When she glanced down at the ground, she noticed his shoes turned outward as if to leave.

“…….”

By the time she lifted her head again, he was already walking away in the distance.

***

Recently, Marien had been avoiding meals in the dining hall.

She preferred to eat with Lisa in their quarters, wanting her friend to move as little as possible.

Today, too, Marien was arranging a tray with food for two, assisted by a helper maid.

She yawned and blinked drowsily. She had struggled to sleep last night, her mind too restless and unsettled, keeping her awake into the late hours.

As a result, her face was plastered with fatigue, though her mood felt strangely light and buoyant.

Nearby, a few maids gathered around Sarah as usual, chatting while they ate.

“Maids from other households have no trouble becoming the lord’s mistress, but Lord Berkshire has no interest in women at all, ugh,” grumbled Hannah, one of the madam’s personal maids, her voice low and teasing.

“The young master’s no different. He never glances our way. All he cares about is the training ground, horseback riding, and hunting,” said Margaret.

“Margaret, hoping for the young master’s attention is just shameless,” another maid chided lightly.

“I wish the lord would notice me,” sighed Emma, the maid from Hampshire. “He’s so gentlemanly, dashing, tall, and with a knight’s body… But why does he act as though he’s caring for women instead?”

Emma shook her head dramatically, as if shuddering.

“Nowhere else would the maids be so desperate for the lord’s attention like here in Berkshire. In Hampshire, it’s unthinkable. There, the lord is a balding, lecherous, pot-bellied man, and no maid desires his attention. And as for the madam—well, let’s just say I was lucky to get my letter of recommendation to leave….”

“Sigh… I’m done with maid work. I don’t want this anymore,” Emma lamented loudly, spilling her grievances about her time in Hampshire.

Sarah interrupted her with a heavy sigh.

Sarah, saying she wanted to quit maid work?

Marien turned to look, and their eyes briefly met.

“Sarah, do you really need to aim to be the lord’s mistress? You could easily win over any of the promising knights at Berkshire,” Carol remarked teasingly.

“They’re all the same! Like master, like subordinates,” Sarah snapped back, her voice laced with bitterness.

The other maids burst into laughter, and the conversation naturally shifted to gossip about the knights at Berkshire.

Though Marien turned her gaze away from Sarah, she could feel her persistent stare following her until she left the dining hall.