Roxanne Bodley, Dowager Duchess of Bodley and Osborne Palace’s first-class head maid, responded immediately to the Crown Prince’s summons. 

She was at an age where her brown hair was just beginning to streak with gray, but still looked young enough to make it hard to believe she had a son several years older than Wilfred.

The dignity befitting the position of head maid harmonized elegantly with the refinement characteristic of palace noblewomen. 

Someone with the vulgar eye to see through a woman’s figure hidden beneath her dress might have recognized traces of the old reputation that ‘despite being from a Viscount family, she captivated the former Duke of Bodley with her figure alone.’

At any rate, with looks like that, the rumor that the Dowager Duchess had held her position for over ten years because His Majesty King Joffrey backed her wasn’t baseless. 

When His Majesty had been in good health, that relationship had been even more open, and word spread that the head maid’s authority was more imposing than Princess Gwendolyn’s.

Wilfred was sick of all of it. Now His Majesty King Joffrey couldn’t even move, let alone tell heaven from earth, yet that woman stubbornly held her position backed by House Bodley’s power. 

Her son constantly opposed the Crown Prince’s orders or opinions at every turn in the Privy Council.

But at least that woman’s dominance would end today.

Edith, who had conveniently provided grounds to expel Roxanne Bodley, was almost praiseworthy.

“Roxanne Bodley pays her respects to His Highness the Crown Prince and Her Highness the Crown Princess.”

Wilfred and Edith sat side by side in the Crown Prince’s reception room next to his office. Edith only looked at the head maid in silence.

Wilfred opened his mouth slowly.

“I heard there was a problem with the Crown Princess’s maid assignments.”

The head maid smiled.

“This is the first I’m hearing of it, Your Highness.”

“She summoned the head maid but you didn’t appear.”

“Her Highness calling for me somehow didn’t reach me. …Perhaps the maids misunderstood Her Highness the Crown Princess’s words?”

Edith frowned. He pressed her hand lightly.

“Are you saying my consort can’t communicate well because she’s from a foreign country? It seems palace noblewomen these days don’t learn Pragonian. The level of refinement has fallen to rock bottom.”

“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

The head maid clasped her hands together repulsively.

“Surely you’re not saying we should accommodate Her Highness the Crown Princess of Osborne Palace speaking the enemy nation’s language?”

“The duty of those receiving salaries in this Osborne Palace is to be loyal to me and my family, not to Fenwick. They should do whatever it takes for that.”

“……”

Glaring at the silent head maid, he called his consort.

“Edith. You said you needed the right to appoint maids?”

“Affirmative.”

Whether the head maid’s eyes widened or not, when Wilfred gestured to Bernard, the secretary began reciting an explanation like an automaton.

“Osborne Palace’s maid organization is called ‘Court Lady,’ and all fifty members are of noble birth. From first-class to third-class, each rank has a head, but ‘head maid’ usually refers to the Dowager Duchess of Bodley here. First-class selects, assigns, and trains maids while managing the budget and schedule of Her Majesty the Queen and Her Highness the Crown Princess. Second-class handles royal clothing, jewels, and protocol, and third-class are girls regularly dispatched to the palace for assistance or observation. Besides that, though unranked, maids managing the East Wing quarters also belong to the Court Ladies.”

Wilfred asked Edith, “Which of these authorities does my consort need?”

Edith answered without hesitation.

“My maids, I choose.”

“Did you hear that, head maid? The Crown Princess’s maids will be chosen by my consort directly. And what else do you need?”

“My grooming and quarters management.”

This was unexpected.

There was a reason the organization handling Court Lady personnel, royal women’s budgets and schedules was ‘first-class.’ 

Since they had to groom themselves, hold banquets or tea parties, and enjoy entertainment within this budget, the role of first-class maids had been extremely important to past queens and crown princesses. 

Yet Edith wasn’t asking for first-class maid authority but for authority to manage the quarters.

That meant putting all the room keys under her control.

‘Is it because she’s a princess from wealthy Aberdeen, so she doesn’t understand the value of a budget?’

Or was his consort a much smarter woman than expected?

Of course, members of the royal family including Wilfred himself could go anywhere in this palace without keys.

However, people inside and outside the palace could only see royalty through official audiences or unofficial routes, and to do so they had to pass through numerous ‘doors.’ 

The Court Lady maids managed the keys to the most intimate of those places. If Edith selected them directly, they could raise the East Wing’s security level higher than now.

Then sometimes Wilfred could also spend nights in the Crown Princess’s quarters instead of other rooms.

…Assuming Edith didn’t betray him.

The head maid, biting her lip, protested.

“Selecting and appointing maids is the first-class head maid’s inherent authority.”

Wilfred rested his elbow on the armrest and propped his chin.

“Who do you think gave you that authority?”

“…However, this isn’t just Her Highness the Crown Princess’s matter but also Fenwick royal tradition—”

“So who do you think that royal family is?”

Right now, the actual master of the Fenwick royal family was Wilfred himself. Whether the palace nobles who’d shared power with kings for generations, his father’s vassals, acknowledged it or not.

Already intimidated but unable to give up to the end, the head maid struggled desperately.

“If two people have appointment authority, it could create confusion.”

“Then I’ll just give all first-class authority related to maid personnel to my consort.”

“Bothersome.”

Edith muttered barely audibly, perhaps only to him.

Roxanne Bodley’s black eyes wavered. With emotions mixing anger, frustration, and humiliation.

“…Please take whatever authority you desire, Your Highness the Crown Princess.”

“Will take.”

The sound of the head maid drawing breath reached where the two sat. Without blinking once, Wilfred watched the head maid bow to him, to Edith, turn and leave. 

Seemingly aware of this, the head maid maintained an upright posture until she left the room.

As soon as the head maid disappeared, Wilfred gestured to his secretary. Bernard approached.

“From now on, I’ll personally approve the Court Ladies’ budget.”

“Understood.”

From the royal knights to menial workers, the principle was that the chief court secretary approved routine budgets for organizations and personnel maintaining Osborne Palace and only reported to superiors. 

Bernard naturally knew what it meant for that approval authority to change.

It was to reduce the head maid’s authority.

The Court Ladies were a group entirely composed of noble women. If Roxanne Bodley, the organization’s focal point, lost part of the maid appointment authority and control over the East Wing’s inner chambers, cohesion would quickly crumble. 

If the Crown Prince seized the budget and pressured them on top of that, that woman wouldn’t be able to hold out even for pride’s sake. It was a golden opportunity to drive out even one member of that detestable Bodley family from the royal palace.

…If it resulted in Edith living comfortably, that wasn’t bad either.

‘Does my consort understand what this means?’

When he turned, Edith spoke like she’d been waiting.

“Your grace is overwhelming, Your Highness.”

Where should he even begin to fix this? Wilfred was about to explain the subtle differences in pronunciation but decided against it.

“…Just say thank you.”

Edith smiled faintly.

“Just thank you.”

* * *

Among the Court Ladies’ fifty elite maids, the first person Edith designated as her wardrobe maid was the one who’d handled the bride’s grooming when she first arrived at the palace. The red-haired maid with a charming eye-smile was named Courtney Pemblock.

“Lady Courtney Pemblock?”

“I’m from a baronial family.”

Edith tilted her head. Perhaps because Fenwick had far more nobles than Aberdeen, titles and forms of address were more subdivided. It seemed they didn’t attach ‘Lady’ to a baron’s daughter.

“Please call me Courtney.”

Edith’s decision to keep Courtney Pemblock close wasn’t just because she’d seen her face the first day. Baron Pemblock didn’t belong to the Privy Council. 

According to Bernard’s tip, he was some rural countryside lord with no connections to Privy Council nobles. Keeping people from powerful families too close meant mutual influence. 

Edith hadn’t even met all of Fenwick’s nobles yet, and she didn’t want to give them opportunities to learn everything about her.

“Need clothing to wear.”

“…I apologize for the inadequate preparations. I’ll arrange what you need immediately.”

Edith hadn’t realized it, but Miss Pemblock understood her meaning well.

The perpetually tired-looking young court secretary—Lord Bernard Doville—quickly arranged what Edith needed in place of the head maid. 

Documents organizing the Court Lady maids’ backgrounds, families among them related to the Privy Council, and Roxanne Bodley’s close associates.

“Do you need someone to translate for you…?”

“Fenwick literacy acquired.”

“Prince Wilfred said to burn it after you’ve reviewed everything.”

Meaning the Crown Prince had ordered this information compiled for Edith.

‘A person whose thoughts I can’t read.’

That was the impression Edith had received watching the Crown Prince of Fenwick these past three days.

Compared to his inner thoughts, his personality was easier to grasp. The Crown Prince was arrogant and self-centered. Whether quick-tempered or strongly goal-oriented, his face immediately indicated his mood and he got angry when things didn’t go his way. 

But separate from having a somewhat bad personality, she thought his anger might be an act. Because,

‘Fundamentally he seems cold-natured.’

The man’s cold gaze on their wedding night, grabbing Edith in that dim corridor and telling her Osborne Palace’s first rule—even recalling it was frightening. Neither Grand Duke Angelic, who was indifferent to her, nor Lucille, who openly ignored her half-sister, had ever shown such eyes. 

Those were eyes only someone who’d experienced things Edith didn’t know, emotions she didn’t know, could have. Coming to Osborne made Edith realize she’d lived her whole life trapped in Aberdeen Castle.

Her request to tour all the palace’s rooms and facilities came from such feelings.

“Some facilities require His Highness the Crown Prince’s approval…”

“Then, His Highness will accompany.”

“Prince Wilfred has been extremely busy lately…”

Since Bernard looked troubled, Edith decided not to insist. Anyway, Osborne Palace was vast enough to take three full days to tour properly.

The night after their wedding night, Edith waited just in case, but Wilfred didn’t set foot in the East Wing. On the third day too, she’d only briefly seen his face at dinner. 

Even then, he’d only asked after her well-being formally. 

His summoning the head maid to make Edith give up the authority she wanted seemed to have been just a whim, or for some other purpose.

‘Does he have no intention of visiting my room at night…?’