Chapter 1: Young Maid (Part 4)

“Enough, leave now.”

The Duchess, who had been gazing out of the window, urgently spoke to Lizbeth and the other maids. The maids listened to the duchess and busily retreated. Lately, the Duchess had been meticulously grooming herself more often. For the past few years, the Duke of Ettlerand had been bedridden. The Duchess, who had been nursing the Duke with a plain face, had recently started wearing glamorous dresses and often looked out the window as if searching for something. When she caught a glimpse of something, she turned to her maids.

“Is she tired of nursing the Duke now, and is just waiting for the messenger of death?”

The dismissed maids speculated about the recent strange behavior of the Duchess. Some even suggested that she might be hiding a man outside or that she was going crazy from taking care of the Duke. When Lizbeth heard them, she clutched the hem of her skirts and gathered her courage to speak up.

“Do not speak ill of the Duchess.”

“Have you lost the young master’s favor now and are trying to gain the Duchess’ favor instead?”

One of the maids with a loud voice stepped forward in front of Lizbeth and taunted her. Since the Duke of Etterland fell ill, the Duchess had taken over nursing duties, leaving the young master in charge of the estate. It was the Duchess’s job to manage the maids, but she was too busy nursing her husband’s illness to do so. As a result, apart from Lizbeth and a few others, there were only neglectful individuals left at Etterland Duchy who showed no loyalty to their master.

“That’s enough. Don’t taunt me.”

“Oh, right. Who knows if I open my mouth again, I’ll end up with calves bursting from being hit.”

The maids laughed sarcastically at Lizbeth again, still angry about the beating they had received. Lately, there had been rumors among the maids that Lizbeth had seduced the young master of Etterland after losing the Duchess’s favor. They insinuated that the affection towards Lizbeth, just a mere maid, would not last long.

“Go fetch the laundry, Lizbeth.”

“Surely, you wouldn’t forget your duties just because you’ve caught the young master’s eye, would you?”

Someone commanded Lizbeth. Instead of retorting to their rude remarks, she went to fetch the laundry. They had no intention of conversing with her anyway. They were only interested in humiliating her, and she was used to being treated that way.

That day, the wind was particularly strong.

“No!”

As Lizbeth was hanging the laundry, she shouted as she saw a handkerchief flying away. She hung up all the washed quilts, but the thin handkerchief blew right through. Although it wasn’t made of expensive fabric, the Duchess had personally bought it for her. She quickly stepped out of the laundry area and rushed towards where the handkerchief had flown. However, by the time she reached the riverbank, the handkerchief had already fallen into the water.

“Oh no….”

Lizbeth despaired as she watched the handkerchief being carried away by the current. She hurriedly took off her shoes and knee socks, placing them on the ground. She then waded into the river, trying to reach the drifting handkerchief but it was quickly swept downstream, evading her grasp. She followed the handkerchief downstream, intent on retrieving it. Just as her hand was about to touch the fabric, she heard the sound of water ahead.

Splash-

Lizbeth’s mouth dropped open as she caught sight of who was swimming against the current, and as he cut through the water with a splash and lifted himself up, there stood a stripped-down Bieren, his jet-black hair glistening with w*tness. It was the first time Lizbeth had ever seen a man’s bare body. Moreover, the sight of the water running down his muscular body made her feel as if she were biting into the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Despite standing nearly n*ked in front of a young maid, Bieren maintained a relaxed posture.

“My handkerchief floated away… I’m sorry.”

She hurriedly apologized, stepping back, but she stepped on a mossy stone and slipped, falling straight into the water. Her soaked clothes felt heavy, clinging to her flesh. Lizbeth scrambled to her feet and screamed.

“Ah….”

Grimacing in pain, she clutched her ankle. Tears welled up in her eyes. It was so painful and so humiliating. It was customary for a servant to quickly disappear in front of their master. But to show oneself slipping into the stream and getting one’s ankle twisted was too shameful. With reddened eyes, Lizbeth stammered.

“My Lord, I apologize. My ankle, um, got twisted.”

“It would be wise to check it now.”

Bieren muttered as he looked down at her. He bent down and grabbed Lizbeth’s ankle, which was still floundering in the water. Lizbeth winced as Bieren gripped her ankle tightly.

“Ouch….”

The pain brought tears to her eyes. She lifted her gaze and saw the man’s bare chest pecs. For Lizbeth, who had grown up without proper education, seeing his body was a profound stimulus. It wasn’t that she found his body repulsive. It was embarrassing to see the body of someone she admired, especially in such a soaked state, with clothes clinging to his skin.

“It doesn’t seem to be twisted, you just need to loosen your muscles.”

Bieren said as he examined Lizbeth’s ankle in his hand. He was stroking the maid’s sesamoid bone, the one that had put him in such a struggle, and her ankle looked even more provocative in his rough grip than it did when it peeked out from under her skirt.

“Oooh….”

A whimper escaped Lizbeth’s mouth with each slow, releasing stroke near her slender ankle. As Bieren listened to her whimpering, he suppressed the urge to tighten his grip on her. When he raised his head to check Lizbeth’s face, he saw tears beginning to well up in her eyes. He then applied pressure to the knotted muscle.

“Ah, ouch!”

She burst into tears from the sudden pain of the knotted muscle being pressed. Tears quickly soaked her cheeks. She couldn’t tell if the muscles were properly loosened. For a moment, she forgot that the person in front of her was her master and let out a whimpering cry.

“It hurts so much, Milord.” 

“It hurts?”

Bieren asked, slowly stroking the slightly loosened ankle. Seeing her crying in pain, he felt an insatiable thirst. Lizbeth, sensing that he might do more, pleaded with him.

“Please, hmph, be gentle.”

“You don’t realize that telling me to restrain is encouraging.”

Bieren muttered as he looked at the young maid begging before him. His fingers, still exploring her ankle, seemed reluctant to let go of her transparent and white skin, revealing veins. It was as if his instincts had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Lizbeth asked him, her face full of fear.

“Are you going to… do more? Will it hurt a lot?”

The gentle lord remained silent. He licked his lips slowly, his gaze fixed on Lizbet, who was crying, soaking wet, her clothes clinging to the fabric. He slowly pulled his hand away and said.

“It’s best to call for someone now.” 

Lizbeth sucked in a breath as Bieren rose to his feet first. She glanced up and she saw something grotesquely bulging between his legs, visible through the clinging fabric. She couldn’t tell if it was normal for a man’s body to look like that, or if Bieren was just unusually large. Sensing Lizbeth’s gaze on his legs, he clicked his tongue softly.

“This is either naive or mischief. Keep your head down.”

Not understanding the implication of his reprimand, Lizbeth bowed her head deeply. It felt as though she had committed a grave offense by daring to glance at her master’s body without permission. As Lizbeth obediently bowed her head, there was a ripple on the surface of the water, as if he was moving something. Bieren spoke in a slow, pensive voice.

“I heard you’re coming of age this year. When’s your birthday?”

“It’s in August.”

Although she couldn’t discern his intentions, she answered sincerely. It was the sort of question a parent adopting a child from an orphanage would ask, not a master asking a mere servant. A maid was just a worker who had to do as commanded by the master, regardless of age. 

But why would he ask about my birthday? 

Her heart trembled at the thought that Bieren was curious about her. He huffed and puffed and muttered under his breath.

“It’s fortunate that there isn’t much time left. My patience is wearing thin, but I can wait until then.” 

Lizbeth watched something fall into the water with a plop. A milky l*quid, out of place in the clear water, dripping and diluting. She couldn’t tell where it had come from, but she couldn’t look up until she heard Bieren’s permission. With a much more sluggish voice than before, Bieren muttered.

“Hand me the handkerchief.”

Head still hung low, she picked up the handkerchief and handed it to him. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was used to cover what had bulged embarrassingly between his legs. Bieren parted the murky water and headed to where he had left his clothes before firing a signal gun.

Bang-

The signal gun echoed throughout the forest. Soon after, a carriage and people arrived at the stream. When Bieren saw Lizbeth limping to her feet, he clicked his tongue and reached out to her. Startled, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her. Her face flushed, she stammered as she fumbled for words.

“Young Master, please, put me down.” 

“Disregarding the master’s intentions. Don’t you think you’re being impudent?”

“I dare not burden you, my Lord, by lending your hand to me. I would be too heavy.”

“There’s only one part of your body where you have flesh, so what’s so heavy?”

Lizbeth couldn’t even ask what he meant by ‘one part with flesh’. The coachman and the maids who had brought the towels all avoided eye contact. It was clear that if she returned to the castle like this, she would face harsh criticism once again. Lizbeth pleaded earnestly to be let down.

“People will think I’m a shameless maid who dares to ask for your hand, my Lord. Please, put me down. I can walk.”

“You’re wrong. You’re a lewd maid who dares to steal a glance at the master’s body.”

Bieren leaned heavily into Lizbeth’s side and muttered. Her face blushed bright red and she muttered in a low voice that she hadn’t meant to. The servants lowered their gazes as if they were witnessing some sort of flirtation between a man and a woman. Holding Lizbeth in his arms, Bieren commanded the coachman.

“Open the door.”

Lizbeth couldn’t bear the feeling of being lifted into the carriage in his arms. This moment felt like a scene from a fairy tale she had read over and over again. Although she was not a princess and Bieren was her unattainable master, at this moment, it felt like she was being treated as his lover. Even the throbbing pain in her swollen ankle felt like the heat of midsummer flooding her chest.