——-
I pace my room, fuming.
"What the hell just happened? How could she—that spoiled little bitch do this to me?"
The nerve of her! I have been nothing but loyal, more than any other maid in this cursed estate, even though its not my job. And this is how she repays me? She doesn't know who she's messing with. She might think she's the daughter of a marquis, but I've been here longer than she can remember.
I know the ins and outs of this household. I know all the secrets, and I could ruin her if I wanted to. She wouldn't even see it coming.
"Doesn't she realize that I could tear apart what's left of her reputation? It's already hanging by a thread! She parades around like she's some noble lady, but everyone knows how much of a disaster she is."
A joke among the nobles.
And now she thinks she can just... what?
Embarrass me? I grind my teeth, thinking about how she smugly walked past me earlier, as if she holds all the power. If she pushes me too far, I swear, I'll show her exactly how much control I really have.
I've got the other maids in the palm of my hand. They listen to me, hang on my every word. I am the Housekeeper after all.
If I tell them she is scheming, they'll believe me. They already gossip behind her back anyway—half of the rumors floating around this estate started because of something I let slip.
And what if I say she's the one lying? That she's losing her mind, or trying to cover up some scandal? The Marquis barely even looks at her these days. He wouldn't believe a word she says over me.
He trusts me; I've been running things for him for years. I make sure everything runs smoothly, not his useless daughter. She thinks she's clever, but she has no idea what I'm capable of.
I've already got a plan brewing in my mind, and this time, I'm not holding back. I'm going to make sure she pays for what she did. By the time I'm done, She won't even recognize her own reflection. She thinks she can outsmart me? We'll see about that.
Oh, she has no idea what's coming.
______
What does it even mean to be a noble lady?
I circle the question as thought once again. This is painfully annoying.
Seriously, I've read about it in books and seen it in plays, but living it? That's a whole different story. If I'm going to survive in this high society, I need to figure it out, and fast.
The pressure feels like a heavy blanket around my shoulders, and every day I wake up, hoping I'll have some sort of epiphany that will magically tell me how to conduct myself like one of those flawless ladies I've seen at the balls.
I let out a dry laugh as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
"There really should've been a class on how to be a noble lady back in modern times. Would've come in handy right about now."
I had no idea what I was doing. None of the old Andrelise's memories helped me either. All I knew was that if I wanted to survive here—and not just survive, but thrive—I needed to figure it out. And fast. But before I could tackle the high society thing, I needed to deal with the most pressing issue: Hannah.
That maid had been acting way too nice lately. It was suspicious. The way she'd leave me alone without snide remarks or glares?
No way she wasn't planning something. I could feel it.
My gut screamed at me every time she was around. She was plotting, and I wasn't about to let her catch me off guard.
This morning, I decided to check my wardrobe for where the dress for social events are. I'm hoping to find something beautiful, but instead, I'm hit with disappointment. The clothes are bland, a jarring reminder that the original Andrelise had no sense of style whatsoever. It's embarrassing, really. I mean,
I'm supposed to be this villainess, yet I look more like a background character.
I can't wear just anything; I need to look stunning. I want to reflect my beauty, but instead, I see dull fabrics and uninspired designs.
Anyways I need to get rid of Hannah. For good. I'm done being at her mercy, and I need evidence to make my case.
That's right; I need to dig into her past and figure out just what she's capable of. I distinctly remember the original Andrelise catching her taking some of her things, like a hair comb and some brushes, and claiming she didn't like them anyway. That alone tells me Hannah isn't above taking what doesn't belong to her.
Just as I'm about to gather my thoughts, there's a soft knock on my door. A different maid enters.
"Breakfast is ready, my lady," she says, her voice shaking slightly. I can see she's terrified of me. Honestly, it's a didn't like it.
"Yes." I reply, trying to sound pleasant, even though I can see she's practically quaking in her boots. I follow her into the dining hall.
I sit down near my father. "Good morning, Father," I say, forcing a small.
"Don't talk while you're eating," he snarls, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.
Wow, okay. What's his problem? I mean, it's a tense silence in the room, and all I can hear is the sound of cutlery clinking against plates.
I steal a glance at the other maid, who's serving breakfast with her head down, clearly terrified of saying the wrong thing.
Then, just as I'm trying to process the oppressive silence, the butler walks in and whispers something to my father. Their conversation seems serious, and suddenly, the tension thickens even more. My father stands up, leaving without even acknowledging me.
Wow. Just Wow.
I finally finish my breakfast, and the nagging thought of Hannah isn't leaving me alone.
You can do this, Andrelise.
With the house empty for a bit, I have a perfect opportunity.
I make my way down the narrow hall towards Hannah's little office. It's only a few steps away from the maid's quarters so I must be careful not to draw any attention.
It feels like I'm walking into enemy territory.
My heart pounds in my chest as I reach for the door. To my surprise, it's unlocked. For someone who claims to be so thorough, you'd think Hannah would be more cautious.
I glance around quickly, making sure no one's nearby, and slip inside. Her office is small, cramped even, with shelves lined with ledgers and stacks of papers. Everything looks so neatly arranged, almost like it's begging me not to touch it. But I'm not here to admire her organizational skills. I'm here to find something—anything—that will prove what I already suspect.
I start rummaging through the ledgers first, flipping through page after page of perfectly balanced records. Not a single mistake.
"Really?" I mutter under my breath. "No one's that perfect."
I move on to the piles of files, hoping to catch a glimpse of something out of place. But all I find are clean slates, neat documentation, like Hannah's never even thought about embezzlement or fraud.
It's almost as if she's been preparing for this moment, expecting someone to check up on her.
Frustration builds inside me, and I start walking around. I feel like I'm missing something, like the truth is just out of reach. That's when it hits me—
Her room.
Hannah wouldn't keep incriminating evidence in her office. No, she's smarter than that. She'd keep it close, somewhere personal, somewhere she can control.
I quickly leave the office, shutting the door quietly behind me. Her room isn't far from the maid's quarters, but it's set a bit apart, likely for her privacy. A perfect hiding spot. When I reach her room, I'm almost expecting it to be locked, but to my surprise, the door opens easily. "Does she really not care about security?" I mutter, stepping inside rolling my eye.
The room is modest but well-kept. A simple bed, a wardrobe, a desk—all standard for a maid of her position.
At first, I don't find much—just some old uniforms, a few worn-out books, and some papers that look like they're meant for her personal notes. I start to feel like this whole endeavor might be a waste of time. But I can't give up that easily. I scan the room for anything I might've missed.
Then, I notice the floorboard. It's slightly uneven, almost like it's hiding something. My curiosity piques, and I kneel down, carefully lifting the board. To my surprise, there's a hidden compartment! I can't believe it. My heart races as I peer inside, and there it is—an array of papers, letters, and old records stuffed away as if they're secrets too big for the world.
Jackpot!
I think, excitement bubbling inside me. I start sifting through the evidence, and although some of it doesn't seem like much, there are a few juicy pieces that could raise eyebrows—letters from previous maids of the estate, notes about stolen items, and a record of conversations that should never see the light of day. I quickly tuck the most damning documents into my dress, careful not to take everything. There's only so much I can carry without raising suspicion.
I put everything back as it was to avoid raising Hannah's suspicion and left with a grin spreads across my face. I can't help but feel victorious. I've got enough to make my father to fire her and even worst; prevent her from finding any work in the empire.
I slip out of her quarters, feeling like I'm walking on air. This is going to change my life in this manor.
I pass by my father's study, curiosity gnaws at me. I know I shouldn't, but I can't resist. I step inside, and the room is empty. He must have left for some business, which means I have a golden opportunity. I tell myself to be discreet, not to disturb anything. I'm not here to snoop;I just want to check his files and see if there is anything I can use against him.
Ok, maybe I AM snooping.
I skim through his papers, and it feels almost forbidden. It's a rush, like I'm getting a glimpse into his world. But just as I'm getting into it, I hear footsteps and voices approaching. My heart drops into my stomach.
No, no, no!
Panic surges through me. I look around, searching for a place to hide, but there's nowhere safe.
Then, I spot the terrace door. Without thinking twice, I dart toward it, slipping outside just in time. My heart is pounding in my chest as I press my back against the wall, trying to calm my breath.
____
"We need to discuss the upcoming negotiations, If we can get tariffs slightly lifted it will work in my favor" I says, my voice steady, with a hint of urgency beneath it. Marcel, The Bulter— nod
I sat on my lavish black chair and he began reciting the reports. I glance at the terrace behind me. Did I see a shadow just now? I initially brush it off , but curiosity gnaws at me.
I stand up, cutting off my butler mid-sentence.
I walk toward the terrace door carefully, then I push the door open and step outside, scanning the area. There's no one there. Just the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the chirping of distant birds.
"Sir?" my butler calls from behind me. "Everything all right?"
"Just checking,"
_____
I barely manage to steady myself as I hear my father step back into the study.
Talk about a close call!
It feels like something out of a ridiculous comedy. Here I am, hanging out like a thief in a tree while my father discusses serious business just a few feet away.
"What a noble lady I am, right? Climbing trees and eavesdropping like a proper lady," I think, snorting at the absurdity of it all
Just as I'm about to launch into another round of self-deprecating humor, my foot slips on the branch.
"Oh no!" I gasp, grasping for something—anything—to hold onto, but it's too late.
I tumble down, landing with a thud onto a basket of piled up of discarded clothes below. The impact knocks the wind out of me, and just as I'm catching my breath for a few seconds, more clothes cascade down
"Hey!" I shout, half-surprised, half-annoyed, but I can't see a thing.
Suddenly, hands grab s the clothes, pulling them away from my face, and I blink up at the frantic face of the maid who had escorted me to breakfast earlier. "Oh my goodness! My lady I didn't—!" she gasps, her eyes wide with panic and fear, kneeling to the ground. "I didn't realize you were there! I was just—"
I wave my hand dismissively, trying to catch my breath as I stood up. "It's fine," I say, giving her a small smile.
"I should've been more careful. I deserve any punishment you deem." There's something oddly comforting about her sheer panic. The fear in tone betraying her apologise.
"Get up." I said curious at her behavior.
Her eyes tightly shot, as if expecting i slit her throat the moment she moves . "Relax. I'm not going to bite," I say, keeping my tone light.
"You can go now; It was an accident, I'm not gonna hold it against you."
As she stands up to back away, I notice the way her posture relaxes just a little. "Thank you, my lady." She sounds genuinely surprised.
"By the way, what's your name?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
"C-Charlotte," she replies.
"Charlotte, you wouldn't mind keeping this between us." I smiled but anyone can sense the scary undertone.
She nods frantically. I wave her off with a smile as she leaves with the basket in her hands, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with this maid who clearly expects the worst from me.
Once she's gone, I shake my head, thinking about how unpredictable this day has turned out. I walk back to my room. The irony isn't lost on me. I'm supposed to be the villainess, yet here I am, extending kindness to someone who probably expects nothing but cruelty from me.
As I enter my room, I quickly tuck the papers I found in Hannah's quarters away, glancing around to ensure I'm alone. My heart races at the thought of what I've uncovered. Just then, I spot Hannah entering, her expression carefully blank. "I got the things you asked for," she says, holding out a bag filled with books, ink, and even some ointment.
"Thanks," I reply, forcing a smile that feels more like a mask. She returns my smile with one of her own, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, and I can sense that she knows I'm not entirely myself.
"I'll take my leave, My lady." She bows with a smile than could be easily mistaken as genuine.
There she goes again with that fakeness, I just KNOW she is up to something. What's her game?
____
I closed the door behind, my heart thumping with happiness. That little bi**h thinks she can just play me? She has no idea what I've done. I can't help but smirk to myself as I think about the ointment I gave her earlier. It's not just a simple balm; I've tampered with it. Just a pinch of this and a dash of that, and it's going to wreak havoc on her skin.
When she applies it, those rashes will burst forth like flowers in spring, red and angry, ruining her pretty face. The irony makes me chuckle—after all her talk about fitting into high society, she'll be a walking disaster."Uglyness can be quite the equalizer," I murmur to myself, reveling in the thought.
The thought of her strutting around in that stupid dress, looking like a monster, fills me with joy. I can almost see the horror in her eyes when she realizes that she's not the beauty she pretends to be.
"Enjoy your new look, Andrelise," I whisper to myself, my voice barely above a chuckle.