Whoa, better sheets really do make for better sleep.
My sleep quality was outstanding on the huge bed—the crisp white sheets smelled faintly of soap, giving off a sense of cleanliness, and felt amazing to touch.
Yep, the servants here did a good job! I almost want them to teach me their laundry techniques.
It was tempting to stay in bed, snuggling deeper into the pillows and silky sheets, so I stretched, but then, just as I was about to get out of bed, I realized something with a start. I had no clue what to do after I got dressed. If I was still at my family’s house, I’d dress myself, but this wasn’t my house—it was the Fisalis’.
Should I just get dressed by myself?
I didn’t even know where my clothes were kept.
I can’t believe no one has told me yet where my clothes are. This is beyond inconvenient. But I can’t just wander down the hall in my nightgown to ask someone.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked around, deliberating.
A pleasant knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Are you awake, madam?” a man’s voice asked over the knocking. It was not Mr. Fisalis. This man’s voice was a little quieter than his.
He must be the butler.
Realizing that it wouldn’t do to open the door in nothing but my nightgown, I threw a dress on over top in a panic.
“Yes, I’m awake,” I answered back through the door. Just as I did, the door opened and in slipped a middle-aged man along with two women. They were the same two women who had gotten me ready for bed the night before. One was an older lady, and the other was younger, but both had their hair pulled back in perfect coifs and wore navy dresses under white aprons. All three of them were lined up perfectly in the doorway.
“Good morning, Madam,” they said in unison, bowing a flawless forty-five degrees.
Someone else might be impressed by how well trained they are, but I don’t see what difference it makes.
I had little choice after such a display of manners, so I gave a small nod back and held back the impulse to tell them I was a lousy Lady.
I greeted them back, “Good morning,” eyes slightly cast down.
The man introduced himself as Rohtas, the butler.
Just as I thought—he is the butler!
Wishing to confirm that I heard his name right, I replied, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Rohtas,” to which Mr. Rohtas raised one elegant eyebrow.
“No, Madam, just ‘Rohtas,’” he emphasized.
Informal it is, then.
“Just ‘Rohtas,’ understood,” I meekly corrected myself. He seemed satisfied.
“Starting today, these two will be waiting on you. This is the head maid, Dahlia, and this is the chief of your personal maids, Mimosa.” The older one then introduced herself as Dahlia, and the younger as Mimosa.
I suppose you could say I felt like a real elite having two maids assigned just to me.
We had an ordinary housemaid who took care of the housework at my parents’ house, but maids like these, who answer to your every beck and call, were a real luxury. Of course, we couldn’t afford to hire servants like that, so if you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself! My family did help me with my corset, though.
So, I could get dressed by myself. I bathed myself, too! I could even do my own makeup, too... more or less. I hope you understand what I mean: you’re fine as long as your makeup doesn’t make you look like a monster. But this was the Fisalis household, so of course the lady of the house had one, two, or even three maids. Everyone knows the aristocratic elite don’t do anything for themselves on their own.
“‘Dahlia’ and ‘Mimosa,’ right? It’s nice to meet you both,” I smiled at them.
“While we are far from perfect, Madam, we will do our absolute best to serve you.”
“If there is any way we can be of service to you, please do let us know,” they both told me with a smile.
Dahlia’s hair was pulled back without a single strand out of place and she had upward-turned almond eyes that came off as harsh at first glance. Her smile, however, gently eased their effect, so ultimately she gave off the opposite impression.
Her voice was kind, and she certainly did not seem as severe as first impressions suggested.
Mimosa had impressive, round eyes that suited her young and cute appearance.
To be so young, and yet also a lady’s personal maid, she must be very capable. She looks to be close to my age, so I hope she can be someone I can talk to.
The butler watching over our friendly introductions spoke next. “I oversee everything that goes on in this manor, so if you have any questions at all, please let me know. Dahlia takes care of the housework, so if you need anything in that regard, please ask her,” he told me, bowing politely with his hand over his chest.
”Understood,” I nodded back.
”Very good, madam. Breakfast has been prepared for you, so, once you are ready, please head to the dining room. Excuse me for a moment,” he added with another bow before exiting my room, leaving the maids behind.
“I’d like to get dressed first, but...” I started, but before I could finish, Dahlia responded.
“Of course, right this way. Choose whatever you’d like,” she said, quickly opening a different door.
Ohh, I honestly thought that just led to another room. Oops.
What lay inside the door wasn’t so much a closet as an entire room of clothing.
I took a look around after the maids ushered me in; judging from appearances, there was everything from underwear to shoes.
The walls were just dresses, dresses, and more dresses.
The best part was that they were lined up by color to form a gradient.
“But, I won’t be wearing all this, will I? And I can’t wear this... Putting a few in heavy rotation should be enough, right?”
I was speechless.
Overwhelmed, Dahlia gently tapped me on the shoulder. “If you would like, we can choose something to suit you,” she told me.
“...please do.” It was painfully obvious that I had never had my choice of finely crafted high-end dresses before, so bursting out, “Yeah! Choose for me!” would only have made me look even worse.
It was all so far from what I had considered my normal that I could not keep up with my thoughts. It was dizzying.
After picking a pale blue dress for me, Dahlia and Mimosa helped me put it on. There was nothing important I had to do that day, so they chose what they called everyday wear. This piece of everyday wear was a simple dress and seeing as the styling was up to my discretion, I didn’t have to be squeezed like so darn... I mean, I did not put on a corset.
Wearing a corset under a fancy dress was just for social gatherings and parties... because just having that thing on for four to six hours was no different than slowly suffocating myself! You have to cinch the corset tightly so that the bits that need to pop out pop out, and the bits that need to be tightened are tightened in order to look stylish. In my case, I’m so flat and curveless that nothing outside of or under the dress changes much. Instead, it’s just a lot of wasted effort put into squishing flesh together to give me a waist and cleavage, I thought to myself, self-deprecatingly.
There I go, off-topic again. My point was, today I would be wearing everyday wear and not formal clothes.
Even so, the dress was made of high quality silk that felt good against my skin, and the tailoring was superb. Dahlia dressed me skillfully, and Mimosa did my hair before applying makeup.
“That reminds me: what does Mr. Fisalis do for breakfast?” I asked Dahlia as I stared at our reflections in the mirror. He had said he lived in the cottage, but I didn’t know if he meant that he ate there, too.
“The master does everything in the cottage with his companion.”
For a brief moment, Dahlia’s gentle face contorted into a terrifying mask-like expression. Her look was so cold that it felt like a blizzard had erupted behind me, but it could have just been my imagination. I shuddered to think that Dahlia normally looked this cold when she was not smiling. I got the same vibes from Mimosa, too. Even mellow Mimosa!
This is terrifying!! Just who is his ‘companion!?’
“Er, who exactly is this ‘companion?’ Did a friend of his or someone come over yesterday?” I asked, spooked by the sudden shift in Mimosa and Dahlia’s moods.
“The master’s favorite, the one he lives with.”
Oh, so you won’t say ‘lover’ or ‘girlfriend!?’ Can I at least call her his ‘mistress?’ Wait, no, that’d make Dahlia’s voice even harsher.
Mimosa waited next to Dahlia with her eyes half closed. The blizzard sensation radiated from both of them now.
“So, you mean Mr. Fisalis’ girlfriend?” I wanted to confirm, just in case.
Dahlia only replied coldly, “I suppose you could call her that.”
Eek!
“Well, what is her name, while we are on the subject?”
“She is called Calendula, I believe.”
Why the hesitation? Why does your answer sound like you think I have a problem with her?
“D-Dahlia? Mimosa?”
They suddenly realized that they had frightened me with their moods, and frantically blurted out: “Goodness, I’m terribly sorry, Madam!!” and “Please don’t worry about a thing, Madam, everything is fine! Ohohoho...” At that, the previous easygoing atmosphere returned, and any uncomfortable feelings were hurriedly glossed over.
Dahlia and Mimosa reacted with extreme displeasure the moment I brought up Mr. Fisalis and his girlfriend. Wait a second, have I gotten myself on the wrong side of Mr. Fisalis, his girlfriend, and the servants?