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Night of Eden 17



 Chapter 17

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"That's her, the maid from Belvida. She's going to be Lady Liana's personal maid."



 "Really? Her?"



 "Yes, they said Madame Celeste came all the way down here to educate her." 



"Really?" 



It was too loud for a whisper. Dana had to force her face to keep her expression under control. 



"But why is she here washing windows, shouldn't she be playing chess, or Guess the Name of the tea like an elegant lady?"



 "I guess education is only in the afternoons." 


"Why?" 



"Because she'd be uselessly vanity-ridden if she did it all day." 



The maids shook their heads in disbelief. 



"I think Madame Celeste is worried that she's going to be snooty or arrogant in front of us. That's why she makes her do these chores in the morning on purpose." 



The maids nodded in understanding. 



"But she doesn't seem like the type to be flirtatious?"



 "Yes, that's what I see. She’s just doing her job, and how does she wash the windows so well?" 



Dana moved her arms more vigorously. She wasn't looking for compliments here, but it didn't hurt to hear them. There was no harm in being liked. With each passing cloth, the grime cleared away and the greenery outside the window became clearer. 



Today was the third day. She still felt uneasy, like she was walking on thin ice, but she was much calmer than the first day. There was only one reason: Theodore Macmillan hadn't shown up since then. Celeste hadn't taken her to his teatime, but she hadn't explained why, and Dana hadn't been particularly curious, so she'd remained silent. She was afraid that if she spoke up, he might drag her into his room. 



Dana felt like she could fly by the fact that she didn't see the man who treated her like a toy every day. Of course, that didn't mean she let her guard down completely. 



"Huh? Isn't that him?" 



Someone asked.



"...Yes, it's him!" 



Dana froze in place, arms outstretched. 



"Where? Why can't I see him?" 



"He’s over there." 



"Huh? Really!" 



She quickly ducked behind the curtain. She pretended to be dusting diligently, but her nerves were racing toward the figure outside the window. 



"Alas, how can a person be so perfect? Why are his limbs so long?"



 "Is it just his body? What about his face?"



 "Yeah, he's really handsome, but I definitely... I guess I look at the body more than the face. That long, toned body once stood right in front of me, and it was... very... just... ...." 




Dana listened to the giggling and waited for her abnormally racing heart to calm down.



 "...Looks like he’s been practicing shooting again today. He’s wearing his Norfolk jacket again." 



"Why didn't Lord Macmillan send Master Theodore to a military academy? He would have looked splendid in a military uniform." 



"No, no, no... He would never belong in such a place. Have you seen the art in the army?" 



Another round of laughter. The Shore's maids were inordinately fond of their master, and none of them tried to hide it. For the past three days, Dana had been feeling terribly out of place, like the only sane person in a strange world.



 "By the way, Tilly Bryson, why is he walking around like that? He's looking so dazzling." 



"What about Mr. Wimpred? He seems to think he's the master's attendant now that Mr. Nordstrom isn't here." 



"Oh, yes, they're all so excited."



 Dana cautiously poked her head out of the curtain. There were indeed men blocking the way. The two or three shooting rifles slung over each shoulder and the excitement in the air allowed Dana to stick her head out a little further and take in the situation. 



Theodore was peeling off his shooting gloves with his trademark nonchalance. His slightly disheveled hair and ragged breathing suggested he'd been working out pretty hard. 



"So why has he been practicing so hard lately?"



 "...Don't you know, he’s going to be fighting in Belvida soon, with Master Edwin." 



"...Really? Really?" 



"Yes." 



"My God!"



 Master Edwin. The mere mention of the name now made Dana shudder, and at the same time, an unprecedented sense of embarrassment made her face burn. 'You looked at him like he was a prince,' she'd heard it all before, when she'd run into Theodore in the tree so long ago. 



'I just met him the other day.' 


'Do you know what good fortune it is to have a lady in your service? You get to see him up close.' 



Those words must have gone a long way toward making Dana herself look like an easy plaything. 



"Try that in front of me." 



"Do you know what, I'll make it go away?"


 

Dana broke out in a cold sweat. If only she could turn back time... But that wasn't the only problem: It wasn't just shameful, it wasn't the end of the story. If Theodore really did what was talking about, Dana was in danger of being fired at any moment. Unlike in the Shore, where maids could giggle at the sight of her master as they dared to steal a glance at him, in Belvida, it was not tolerated. It was frivolous. It was stupid... 



Disturbed, Dana turned her attention back to the window. The group of men had gotten quite close. When they appeared, so did Celeste. She handed Theodore a cup of water, which he took immediately. Gulping, his head, which had been tilted back slightly from the water, turned toward Dana for a moment, so suddenly that there was no time to dodge.



For the first time in three days, Dana made eye contact with those cold turquoise eyes. 



"See? He looked this way."



 "Yes, he made eye contact with me...." 



"Me, too!" the maids' voices trailed off.



Her breathing stopped and her eyes grew dizzy. Unlike Dana, who was completely frozen, Theodore immediately turned his head away. His gaze was cold and impassive, not lingering for even a second. She wondered if he didn't recognize her. Or maybe he just didn't care anymore. Whatever the truth, it was heartbreaking to Dana. Wouldn't the most basic and obvious solution be for the cruel beast to lose interest in the pacifier? Please... let him forget about me completely. Let him find no amusement in my strange antics. Please. Dana prayed fervently to the heavens. 



"By the way, you know what?" the maids chirped again. "In Peron, they call them the Seven Stars." 



"They?"



 "The men who play polo with the Master."



 There was a moment of silence as they tried to recall each of the men called stars. 



"But why seven? Shouldn't there be eight?" 



"Well, there's one obvious omission. Marcus Drayton." 



The maids giggled again. To speak of a nobleman in such a manner... it was unthinkable in Belvida. Dana felt a twinge of trepidation. Was it because they didn't have a head maid like Rosi? Shore was surprisingly lax in their discipline. 



She'd expected Celeste to be stern and strict, but perhaps it was the nature of being a 'personal maid' that made her unconcerned with the discipline of her maids. Whatever the reason, Dana didn't dislike the lively, free-spirited maids. It was a refreshing change of pace for Dana, who was used to strict discipline and hierarchy. Then she heard something that opened her eyes.



 "You know, girls, I might be going to Belvida tomorrow." 



"Why?"



"I'm in charge of the kitchen tomorrow, and the pastry chef is going to Belvida and asked me to follow him." 



"What about the pastry chef?" 



"I think the Duchess has ordered him to go to Belvida on secondment in preparation for Lady Liana's arrival. They have the best pastry chef in the world for desserts." 



"Aww...." 



Dana's heart began to pound. How much she wished she could follow them to Belvida. After giving it some serious thought over the past few days, she decided that she needed to discuss this with someone she trusted. And there was only one person she could trust, Noah Miller.



As a mere trainer, he was powerless against the MacMillan family's master, nor should he be allowed to be, but Dana desperately needed someone's empathy and comfort. If things took a turn for the worst, she might have to quit her job and move back to her hometown, so she needed to meet with him and ask for his help. 



Should she ask Madame Celeste? Perhaps if she told her she wanted to help the pastry chef, she'd let her. Dana thought to herself and finished washing the windows. Just then, the bell rang for lunch. She grabbed a sandwich from the dining room and quietly left the cottage. Arriving at the lakeshore, she sat down on a secluded tree limb and basked in the sun. 



The sunlight filtered through the lush foliage in patterns. A breeze off the water swayed the willows and whispered in her ear. Dana set down her sandwich and gazed out over the calm water. The water was calm and clear, with a deep green color. Through the fine scales, she could see something cutting through the water. Dana's eyes widened and she eagerly followed the strange trajectory. Was it a water snake? Or just a fish? As if to answer, it bobbed to the surface.




 "Oh, it’s you...."




It was a small, cute turtle. It stretched out its neck, its face calm, and swam toward Dana. A large tree root blocked its path. The turtle struggled on its short legs and finally managed to climb onto the root. For the first time in three days, Dana felt the corners of her mouth curl up. At the same time, a hot lump rose in her chest. Something suddenly dripped onto the back of her hand. It was a teardrop. 



"Oh, I must be crazy... What's wrong...." 



Dana pressed her palm firmly against her eye socket. Her cheeks and the corners of her mouth curled wider, as if that would stop the tears. But she couldn't stop them, as if the banks had burst. Her eyes burned again and again, and her nose felt tight. Her trembling hands finally fell into her lap. Dana let out another sob. 



* * *



 "This one, what's its name?”



 "Asam." 



"What kind?"



 "...Orange...Pekoe?" 



"Yes, that's right."



Dana stared down at the dried tea leaves. 



"Steep it. Straight." 



Dana set a kettle of hot water, a teapot, and a strainer in front of her. Then she began to steep the tea. It was a far cry from the first time, when she’d gotten dizzy just looking at the dozens of bowls. Dana deftly found the ingredients and got them ready. The challenge came when she began to scoop out the tea leaves. She could learn how to use a teapot in a day, but the proportions, concentrations, and water temperatures-as Celeste put it-could take a lifetime. 



With trembling hands, Dana scooped the tea leaves into the teapot and poured in the hot water, eagerly recalling what Celeste had taught her yesterday. And then the hourglass ticked down. Dana placed a strainer over the teacup and tilted the pot, the dark brick-colored tea bubbling up and wafting a savory aroma. 



She set the teacup on a saucer and set it down in front of Celeste. Her hands trembled, making a rattling sound. Celeste examined the color of the water like a discriminating connoisseur, then lifted it to her nose and savored the scent. When she set the teacup down without drinking, her eyes were as cold as ever. 



"Not good." 



Dana wasn't disappointed. It seemed ridiculous to expect praise when she was just starting to learn. 



"I can tell just by smelling it. It's astringent and bitter." 



Dana clasped her hands together and took the harsh criticism in stride, but at the same time, she wondered what was wrong with her. She didn't really want to be a personal maid, but learning how to brew tea couldn't hurt. Besides, Celeste's blending classes were amazing. 



Celeste was an excellent tea sommelier, too good to be in private practice, and she was passionate as a teacher. 


“Was it too much? No, maybe we were just running out of time. You said I shouldn't trust that hourglass too much,” Dana mused, looking down at the mess of ingredients and utensils. 



Celeste, looking up at her, began to stir the tea by hand. It was pure black tea, unadulterated, just like Dana had made. Dana squinted and watched her intently. From the moment she opened the lid to the moment she poured it into the teacup, it didn't seem like there was much difference, but the result was completely different. The tea was unadulterated, but when Dana took a sip, a subtle, cozy aroma wafted through her body. 



"It's the same tea, but it's so different depending on who makes it..." 



Dana couldn't help herself. 



"...It reminds me of my late grandfather. It tastes just like...." 



"Do you recognize the taste of tea now?" 



"Yes." 



Suddenly, she remembered a maid who said she was going to Belvida tomorrow. Dana put down her teacup and cleared her throat. 



"Umm...." 



Celeste nodded for her to continue. Dana repeated the story she'd heard when she was washing the windows that morning.



 "Do you think I could come with the chef to Belvida and help out? I came here so suddenly, I didn't even tell my friends what was going on...." 




Celeste stared down at the small, white face. It seemed very strange that Dana was whispering as if she were asking for a very difficult favor. There was no reason not to grant it. Dana Bodan wasn't trapped here, she was just being trained. But she couldn't understand her, as if she were imprisoned.



 "Of course...." 



She opened her mouth to say yes, but then her mouth closed shut. It was a little greedy. Over the past few days, though she hadn't admitted it, Celeste had grown quite fond of the innocent child. Her calm demeanor, dexterity, and memory made her quite fun to teach. The problem was that Dana seemed unmotivated to be a personal maid. 



Regardless of vanity or money, being a ' personal maid' was a much better job than being a 'maid,' but for some reason she seemed to have no desire for it. In fact, at times, she seemed very reluctant. Didn't Belvida's head maid even scratch her head at the oddity? That wasn't the only problem. Dana Bodan was too nervous in front of her master, and she had no idea why.



Of course, Dana belonged to Lady Liana, not to the Master, but once they were married, she would see the Master often, and they would be entertaining guests together. For a maid to freeze and become speechless while serving tea was a fatal flaw. Celeste thought for a moment, then slowly spoke. 




"I have a condition." 



Dana's head snapped up. Celeste continued sternly. 


"There will be a dinner tea time in the music room later, and you will serve tea." 



Dana's face stiffened instantly. Memories of the cold eyes were flooding back, sending a chill down her spine.



"Ha, but... I'm not... good enough for that yet ...." 



"No, you're not good enough to serve tea to the master, but you'll be fine to serve his guest." 



"Guest?" 



"Yes, Mr. Richter is as illiterate as they come when it comes to tea flavor." Celeste chuckled to herself, then continued. "Nicola Richter. He's playing the piano for Master Theodore right now, and he's desperate to get the Macmillan family's sponsorship for the next competition." 



Dana nodded wordlessly.



"Mr. Richter must be very nervous right now. He could really use a warm word and a cup of tea. I hope you'll treat him well. It is one of the most important duties of a maid to entertain her master's guests." 



Celeste was still a little unhappy with Dana's stiffness. 



"I'll only let you go to Belvida tomorrow if you serve Mr. Richter well.”



***



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