The first thing a maid like Erica was expected to do each morning was to rise before dawn.
She began her day by bathing early, washing away the night's grime and preparing herself as an attendant.
She always took her time in the bath.
After all, was there any woman who disliked a hot bath?
It was the only perk she liked about being kept by her lord.
Though it was her greatest wish that someday she would escape being a plaything, never a look of envy left her alone for being one.
If it were at her discretion, without hesitation, she would have allowed anyone to replace her.
But a servant like her had no say, and so she had to endure.
Perhaps because the royal family preferred plebeians as servants, Erica's elevated status, or at least how it appeared, was enviable to the rest.
Ignoring the jealous stares from maids twice her age, she smoothed back her damp black hair and straightened her uniform.
Next, she swept through the mansion's rooms with the other servants, airing them out and readying the house.
She lit fires in the hearths and changed the bed linens.
As a valet, she was also normally expected to attend to a host of early tasks: preparing breakfast, dressing her master, arranging his belongings, and ensuring everything was perfect before he even stirred.
But her master was different.
He slept late, often deep into the afternoon, so many of these duties were delayed or unnecessary.
Because of that, Erica was never forced to rush her mornings.
While other servants hurried to their tasks, she moved to a specific room an hour later and would wait in the antechamber until her master summoned.
The room was located just beside the lord's bedroom, connected by a discreet doorway.
Ledgers, novels, and other texts lined the shelf, left by previous attendants.
A basin and towel rested on another small table.
The walls were kept plain.
The stone floor was a little chilly.
A sliver of morning light, streaming from the high window, illuminated the room.
Every morning she waited here, sometimes reading books, other times painting, and even practising to draw magic circles on a few occasions.
Today, though, was odd in many ways.
The first unusual thing was the fact that her master woke up early.
Even when he needed to go to school, the man never woke up early to care if he was late.
If it were only that he woke up early, she could have dismissed the irregularity easily as him being sick.
Like every other day, Erica sat silently with her hands folded, but today she was alert.
Fixing her eyes on the door, she put all her effort into hearing what was going on the other side.
Her master had been talking to himself for quite a long time now; this was the thing she could not so easily ignore.
Ever since she reached her outpost today, the sounds of murmurs, self jesting, and occasional loud laughter had echoed repeatedly.
A few of the snippets she could overhear included, "system open up," "Abra Kadabra," or "I have to just rawdog everything by myself?" and many others that made little sense to her.
"Is someone out there?... Uhh... Servants, any servants?"
So, when her lord finally called from the room, she was startled and didn't respond immediately.
'Odd how he doesn't call for my name... His voice is also too soft,' she thought.
'Perhaps a spell has been cast to take over him? But is there even such a spell? Should I notify Sir Garrick of the matter?'
Before she could consider anything further, her lord called again, this time in a slightly louder voice.
'For now, I shall observe him closely.'
Deciding on the best course, she stood at once, smoothed her skirts, and opened the door.
The first thing she noticed after walking inside was that he stood bare except for his grey underwear; later, his expression.
Even if she was forced to speak nicely of him, unless she made up a fiction, she could only have unpleasant things to say.
One of such unpleasant things was his expressions.
Even she, who had been serving him for an extended length, hadn't ever seen him happy.
Only anger, discontent, arrogance, drunkenness, and worst of all, that debauched look she hated most.
His emotions had always remained consistently one dimensional.
But currently the one plastered across his face was warm, with a slight smile even.
He had that relieved look of a friend who has been searching for you and suddenly finds you in a crowd.
She did not know why or what, and to be honest, there was nothing in her head at the moment; her face showed nothing.
"At your service, M'Lord."
A second of silence.
"...Hey, little maid, I want to get dressed, but first can you prepare my bath? I smell sour."
'Little maid?'
She was not tall, but had a great figure; there was nothing which should prompt that nickname.
She stood only a head shorter than him, yet he was not so tall either, nor old enough to call her little.
"... Yes, M'Lord. Excuse me."
Erica bowed, keeping her gaze lowered.
She felt his gaze all round her body, but minded it not as it was a common occurrence.
A second later she stepped forward with a fresh robe from the nearby wardrobe, holding it out at arm's length without looking at him.
"If M'Lord permits, your robe first."
He did not receive it immediately, instead he was watching her behaviour first. Then, without comment, he covered himself.
Meanwhile, she moved towards another wardrobe and picked out a pair of sandals.
She put them in front of him, waiting until he stepped on them.
Once done, she motioned towards the door.
"The bath has already been prepared."
"Mmm..." He hummed once and followed her lead, now modestly covered.
The short walk passed in silence until he broke it.
"Little maid, do you think my hair is a bit long?"
He pinched and twirled a strand. "It's pricking my eyes a little."
Erica's expression did not change. Truth be told, she did not know what to change it to.
In the past, he had demanded little from her; only her duties as personal attendant, and opening her legs when he felt like it.
She could probably count on one hand the number of times the two had spoken in complete sentences.
"... "
"Why are you so on guard? That was not an inquiry. Just think of it as a passing gentleman commenting on the weather."
"..."
Perhaps he found great amusement in her anxiety; he chuckled lightly, though he did not press the conversation further.
They reached the bathroom soon. A few servants were waiting outside, and a few more inside.
Upon seeing Erica, all of them promptly left the place, with steam already rising from the spacious stone tub.
The distance from the master's chamber was short, yet today it left Erica unusually tired.
Bowing again, she moved aside and let her master through the spacious bathroom.
He ran a hand along the smooth marble wall, pausing to examine the intricate patterns near the floor.
He stepped toward the caldarium, glancing at the large sunken pool and the rising steam.
Inside, a row of chair like structures rested at the edges.
He studied it with quiet curiosity, as if seeing it for the first time.
Regardless of her discomfort, Erica removed her clothing smoothly, storing it in the wooden cabinet.
The scent of warm stone and faint lavender filled the air, but he remained still, not moving to sit or wash, only watching.
"Permit me to assist you, M'Lord."
She moved forward to reach for the robe's sash of her master.
All over his body goosebumps rose, and he stepped back after seeing her only in underwear.
Erica pulled back her arm, slowly raising her face to look at him.
"Should I call for a healer? It should be appropriate that you took medication before getting wet."
"... What?"
"Or... shall I fetch another attendant, M'Lord? Do you fancy anyone for my calling? Or shall I contact someone else outside of the Manor?"
"No, I'm well, why... Why do you suggest calling for a healer?"
Erica's amber eye was boring into him without moving.
"Because you clearly are unwell, M'Lord."
Hearing her words, his expression shifted from bewilderment to something inexplicable.
"No... Uh, unnecessary... I'm also tired from the previous acquaintance you see... Mmm," he mumbled, looking around and nodding once.
"Today you, just wash my back. I will handle the rest myself."
When she did not go away even after handing over the robe, he looked a bit puzzled.
But then saw where her eyes were looking.
He creased his brows, then sighed.
"Forgive me, I am still drunk." With that he removed the still remaining cloth.
A moment later she nodded her head, then went back to pick up her uniform from the wardrobe and dressed up again.
He was seated on a wooden chair facing away from her when she came back.
He kept his eyes on the marble carving as she reached for his shoulders, her touch light.
'Why are you acting so strange?' she thought, her hands moving carefully.
'He is seriously ill?... Or has something changed?'
The difference between the him of today and the one from yesterday was stark.
"Done, M'Lord," she said, stepping back.
"Thank you. Now you can leave."
Initially Erica was planning to just leave as he commanded, but then she considered his odd behaviour.
'I should probe a little more to ensure he isn't under any influence.'
"... I shall stay."
Erica flinched a little as he considered her frame. Still, she kept her stance, yet her eyes were on the floor.
"If M'Lord is unwell, it is my duty to attend until you are dressed. The household runs smoother that way."
"I'm not ill."
"... It is my place to attend until M'Lord is dressed, lest something be overlooked."
He watched her meek posture, then looked away, rubbing his temple.
"I don't know why you are worried at all for a bum like him." He muttered under his breath.
He rubbed his neck, then sighed again.
"Fine, then stay. But... don't hover."
"... As you command." She bowed.
"... Since Lady Margarett is arriving soon. Best to be prepared."
Her eyes moved discreetly to remember everything unusual as she said the last sentence.
"... Aah, Yes..."
Immediately she cemented her guess that there was a definite contrast between today and yesterday.
'Indeed something is wrong, I must inform Sir Garrick as soon as I can.' Thinking as such, she moved to the corner.
"Hey, little maid."
"... What is it, M'Lord?"
"Can you notify the kitchen to prepare a soup, or something light for breakfast? I'm not in the mood for grease."
After speaking, he began cleaning his body.
"... As you wish."
Erica approached the door, instructing the old maids there about his message.
Today, like yesterday and the day before, they looked displeased.
Being ordered around by a much younger commoner hurt their pride most likely, but what could they do?
Erica looked at the thirty year old woman's back as she went to inform the chef what he should prepare.
She went back and observed him closely, noticing his discomfort in being seen naked as he rinsed his body and washed his hair.
Maybe it was due to her watching him, but he moved quickly and quickly he dived inside the caldarium, splashing water high in the air.
But as he did not tell her to look elsewhere, she continued watching him, noting down everything faulty with his behaviour.