Erin’s eyes fluttered open.
The first thing she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling, its plaster painted a pale cream that the morning light softened into gold.
Light seeped through draped curtains, momentarily blinding the girl with its hazy brightness.
Her head felt heavy and her thoughts scattered, her blonde hair spread across the pristine sheet. She blinked, trying to stitch together the fragments of memory that clung to the edges of her mind.
‘Where am I?’
She asked herself, her mind slowly piecing together what little she could recall. The cushion beneath her was improbably warm and soft; it made her want to close her eyes and sink back into this blissful comfort again.
In her whole life Erin had never known such a sensation. The poor girl had always slept on hardwood, on straw, and on cold floorboards; she had never slept on plump pillows and a mattress before. To her, this soft bed was a luxury she couldn’t even dream of.
‘Comfortable?!’
A jolt of alarm shot through her.
Realizing something was wrong, Erin sat up hurriedly. The blankets slid from her knees as the memories started to line themselves into a cohesive shape.
A kind neighbor had found a good deal for her to work as a cleaner for a certain nobleman in the nearby village, Benjamin. Her parents had taken the offer and had been overjoyed by the money the kind neighbor had given them.
Afterward, Erin and her family had migrated to Winterin village three months ago, guided by the kind neighbor. They had personally escorted Erin and decided to stay with her for a while to help Erin familiarize herself with the life of Winterin.
She remembered her first time arriving at the village. There were the bustling streets, the smoke came from the fireplaces of wooden houses, and there were the friendly looks from the villagers.
The only strange thing was that no one in Winterin knew who this old man Benjamin was, so they had to spend some time getting in contact with him through the transporter, Glen’s crew.
Although, the village folk didn’t seem to care. Her parents explained that nobles often went on vacation to the countryside, and they could potentially bring economic opportunities to the villagers.
There was one figure people did mention when it came to the noble: the Madame. The head of the village, a baroness,taught the villagers about tending gardens, choosing seeds, basic remedies, and crafts, bringing much-needed expertise to the community.
Erin had never seen her herself, but the Madame’s presence had given the village folk the real look of noble dignity. That’s why the villagers didn’t dislike the nobility, even when the Marchiarchs of the East hadn’t implemented industrial work in their village.
As a child, Erin had been taught not to offend nobles in any way. She’d learned all the unspoken rules, all the do’s and don’ts of interacting with them. And since Erin was the only one who understood these nuances best, she was deemed a perfect candidate for this job.
Yet, here she was. Offered such a grand opportunity, but now dared to sleep in a lavish bed? How dare her dirty form defile such pristine sheets? What if it became dirty? Erin could almost see the ghostly smudges from her ragged clothes and hear the echo of her mother’s anxious voice. What if they demanded repayment? What enormous debt would her poor parents have to shoulder?
How could she have done that?! Her cheeks burned; the thought filled her with a rising panic.
“Hey you, you’re finally awake.”
Erin’s heart jolted like a startled bird. She had just awakened, her eyes still struggling to adjust to the light. Erin blinked, trying to make sense of the blurry figure seated across from her.
The young man wore clothes that screamed of wealth. His coat was a finely tailored white frock coat that fell neatly to the knees, the lower half of it flaring slightly like a gentleman’s skirt, adorned with intricate patterns.
The fabric gleamed faintly in the light that slipped through the curtain, and intricate golden embroidery traced down the sleeves and across the lapels.
Beneath that, he wore a crisp white shirt, buttoned high to the throat, and around his neck was an ascot of pale blond silk tied into an elegant knot.
Long trousers, button-up boots, and white gloves, all of them spotless, completed his ensemble. Even just sitting casually, his posture screamed the authority of a man once used to command.
At first, she thought this must have been a dream. This blurry figure looked like someone she had met earlier. And his voice, too. There was something strangely familiar about his voice. Had she seen him before?
Yet, his clothes alone were enough to make her nervous and forget about everything.
Erin squinted harder. Her vision finally cleared, and she saw him properly.
The young man was sitting cross-legged, his arms crossed, his head resting against the backrest, facing directly toward her. The sunlight from the window spilled across his figure, but as it reached his face, the light seemed to falter.
“E…Ekkkkk!”
Stolen novel; please report.
A gasp of pure terror tore out of her throat before she could stop it.
‘Oh dear Mona,’ The boy’s face was… wrong. Horribly wrong. The most disturbing part was that the boy in front of her… His face was cruelly burned, disfigured beyond recognition.
The head was empty of hair, its skin pulled downward. His face was a landscape of scar tissue, rough and uneven like the bark of a gnarled tree.
His eyebrow was gone, replaced by a rippled expanse that swept up toward his temple. His ear was just a melted knot.
The boy’s eyes were still intact, a dark green that gleamed from beneath a scarred lid that could never fully close, giving his gaze an unnerving intensity.
One side of his cheek was a warped mess of flesh, like wax from a guttering candle frozen mid-drip. The other was a twist of knotted tissue, webbed with angry red craters where the burn had bitten deepest.
His nose was mostly gone, leaving only a sharp bone and two uneven slits that rasped faintly every time he drew breath.
Erin flinched so hard she nearly fell back into the bed. Her hands shot to her mouth, her body trembling. Her gaze darted away in a futile attempt to unsee the horror.
“Rude.”
She could hear a click of a tongue in the boy’s direction.
‘Ah!’ Erin’s mind raced. What had she done? What if he were a noble? What if he was the son of her employer, Lord Benjamin’s family? Or one of the noble guests who visited this mansion? She had just woken up and screamed in his face!
Her thoughts ran wild with images of punishment. She had learned from her parents what to do when she came across a noble, but what would they do if they were in her situation?
Acting on instinct, Erin scrambled out of the bed so quickly that the blanket tangled around her ankles. She tore it away, then dropped to the floor in a desperate kneel, her forehead hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
“I–I’m apologie! Please forgive me, my lord!”
Her voice trembled, half choked by fear. She pressed her palms to the floorboards and kept her head low, shivering like a cornered rabbit.
What was she doing? How could she offend a noble like that? Even if she found him repulsive, even if his face looked like a disgusting monster from a nightmare, he was still a noble! A noble!
If he truly took offense at her rudeness, her head would roll at any moment! And if he told someone of higher rank? Her parents, her little brother… Dear Mona, even their distant cousins could be punished!
“Please forgies this rude peasant! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!”
‘Ah!’ Her heart hammered in her chest. Did she just misspeak?
If she remembered correctly, there was a proper way to address nobles, wasn’t there? A certain way to address their titles and courtesy lines.
Her mother had taught her how to speak to someone above her station without sounding like she was mocking them.
‘No, no, what is it again? How do I say it right?!’ She rummaged through her memories and knowledge, desperate to find the correct phrasing.
With a sudden spark of recollection, she blurted out.
“Please, Your Grace, forgies me! I beg your pardon, for I spoke without thinking. I am but a poor peasant girl and have forgotten my place. It was not my meane to sound offensive, I swear upon it!”
Her voice wavered halfway through, caught between terror and formality.
From the corner of her vision, she saw the boy’s leg twitch slightly, but because of his ‘unreadable’ features, she couldn’t interpret what that meant.
‘Oh no! Did he just flinch?! Did I anger him even more?! What do I do, what do I do?!’
Erin had not been taught what came after offending a noble, only how to avoid it in the first place. What did one say when the damage was already done? How did one beg properly for mercy?
Her heart thudded harder, every beat loud enough that she swore the boy could hear it. Her thoughts blurred into white noise, panic making her ears ring.
No one had ever warned her there was a boy with a disfigured face here, and she should have been aware of that!
But it made sense why no one in the village spoke of a young master here. How could such a disfigured face ever be seen in public? Perhaps the old noble hid him from the world, ashamed of his deformity. Or perhaps this pitiful boy was locked away in this mansion for that reason. And now, she had seen him.
Was that her mistake? Would he kill her for it?
“Pray telle me what you would have me do, sir!”
Erin’s voice cracked with fear. Since she didn’t know what to do, she decided to ask him directly without lifting her head, afraid it might be rude to do so.
For a moment, only the sound of her own unsteady breathing could be heard.
“...What’s your name?”
To her expectation, a hoarse voice answered her back. That voice…it was familiar somehow, and though it rasped like gravel, it carried no harshness. It wasn’t the tone of someone ready to scold her, but rather of mild curiosity.
A wave of relief washed over her heart.
“M-My name? It’s… it’s Erin, Your Grace, sir… I mean, young master!” She stammered, fumbling for the right words.
Silence filled the air, save for the muffled ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. It lingered with the smell of wax and… a faint, exquisite wood. She didn’t recognize this particular scent. Although her home was a poor wooden structure, it smelled damp and dirty, not like this room.
The light seeping through the room felt much lighter now. Erin swallowed her saliva, unsure if she could lift her head or if she should remain there until the boy in front of her allowed it.
At last, Erin heard a movement, a scrape of a chair leg against the floor. The solid thunk of boots on wood as the boy rose from his seat.
*thud, thud, thud*
Every sound stabbed through her nerves. She shut her eyes and held her breath, convinced he was walking toward her. She bit her lip and braced herself.
“Clean up and leave this place.”
“Yes?” Her head jerked up before she could stop herself.
However, before she could fully process the words, the boy had already gone. The door at the far end of the room swung lightly on its hinges, closing with a soft click.
“Clean up?” Erin just sat there, dumbfounded. She lifted her head and looked at the door. Her gaze drifted toward the still-ruffled bed, the small washstand by the wall, and the faint dust motes dancing in the air.
Slowly, a thought lighting up in her head, her expression brightened.
“Did I just get hired? Lucky!”
She smiled innocently, a pure, delighted smile spread across her dirt-streaked face.
No, girl, you just got fired. Get over it.
Yes, you must notice it. He dips, peaces out.
I'm a bit scared; too many ppl want her to make a farm out of people. Please, the girl doesn't have any experience in it yet; don't recommend it to her!
What day are you free to read stories? (This question is for my schedule release chapter.)
