The Peaceful Life Of A Maid Who Hides Her Power And Enjoys It - Chapter 11
Rue is looking for Dian Cecht’s legacy.
The assassin-butler’s claims were made on reasonable evidence;
“A few days ago, my master asked me if I knew anything about Dian Cecht’s ‘eyes’. Besides, when I was cleaning his room a few days ago, I found a tourist guidebook for Midwinterre lying around – and a bookmark was inside the urban legends section. It mentioned, albeit briefly, Dian Cecht’s eyes.”
Rue putting bookmarks on a book? That doesn’t sound like him at all.
‘that suspicious man’s purpose is to find Dian Cecht’s relic.’
It w as a conclusion that made sense.
However, there seemed to be the lack of reason for Rue’s job as a gardener and cook at the Weatherwoods. He has such a serious objective, but is still working as an employee?
Maybe that is why.
Is there a connection between the Weatherwoods residence and the relics of Dian Cecht?
Oh, that sounds pretty plausible.
I left the assassin-butler to clean up the pub and handed him the thick paper envelope I’d brought with me beforehand.
“This is the fees for the seats taken by the merchant council. I decided to pay back the money to the creditor with lots of interest. Don’t you think the same, my friend?”
“Is that not correct?”
That’s right. If you’re in debt, you must pay back in double.
I came out of the pub with a more comfortable mind.
It looks dark under the lamp, but I feel there is a need to look more closely at the Weatherwoods mansion.
The next day at noon.
The sky is somehow cloudy today. It’s so humid that it feels like it’s going to pour when the sun goes down. As soon as lunch was over, I stepped up to the Weatherwoods room right next to the library on the first floor.
A noble family with a deep history usually has a separate room to store the family’s relics, their ancestry, family tree information and treasures.
The Weatherwoods also had such a room inside the mansion.
If something happens in this room, no employee except the head maid is allowed to enter it to look at the situation.
In addition, it is locked, so no matter how many times I turn the door handle, it does not open.
‘If I force my way in, it’ll look obvious. So I have no choice but to find the location of the key and sneak in at dawn.’
There is nothing I can do about it.
I came back to the kitchen and made my own tea.
A cup of tea with petals floating around in the gentle spring breeze is the best thing in the noon.
When I heard a familiar voice, I popped my head out of the window.
The maid was seen approaching Rue, sitting in a garden chair, and instructing him about this and that. Rue, who smiled softly, nodded.
Rue, who turned his eyes away, went back to reading. A cook and a gardener that reads without a care in the world?
But Rue is always relaxed.
The head maid doesn’t particularly care about his leisure. It’s the time he enjoys after performing his duties properly.
His working speed is so fast I sometimes doubt if he secretly has four arms.
‘As expected, Rue and books don’t go together.’
I stared silently at Rue, who was sitting in the middle of the green garden.
His face, as elegant and gloomy as a shadow under the luster, suited being a drug addict more than a bookworm, and alcohol more than newspapers. Or a soldier suffering from severe post-traumatic stress syndrome. Perhaps even a reclusive hunter living in the woods.
But Rue was a cook, a gardener and a rich man.
The gap between prejudice and reality is very frightening.
‘A gladiator who sells drugs, head of the black market and the underworld, the guild leader of the dark drug guild…’
While listing the jobs that would fit with Rue, I discovered something about him that I hadn’t noticed before.
His messy ears.
There were many fine holes in both the right and left ears.
I couldn’t see it properly, but the cartilage and earhole seemed to be in similar conditions. But he didn’t wear any accessories on them, making them look smooth.
The sight of his ears made me even more suspicious of him.
This was because all the holes had been made at acupuncture points for smooth magic flow.
He even pierced all the spots where ordinary wizards would usually pierce a couple at the most.
‘How many magic tools are you wearing?’
Magic tools are basically highly-scarce.
Among them, magic tools that are large enough to wear on the body are especially valuable, no matter how trivial their functions may be.
Of course, money itself wouldn’t be a big deal for him considering he owned a mansion on the busiest street of Midwinterre.
The problem was why he would wear so many magic tools.
The holes in both ears were well over ten. Even the emperor of this country wouldn’t need that many tools.
Today again, I had to think.
‘What the hell is Rue up to?’
Flap. I heard the sound of turning pages in the wind.
Rue’s hands were beautiful when he turned the paper over. They were slender and clean hands, comparable to Daisy’s, who had touched no sword yet.
There were no calluses, let alone cuts or small scratches.
Although his hands were large enough to cover my face, and his joints protruded in some places, it was natural considering Rue’s unrivaled height.
Such a hand does not hold a sword.
Considering all this, Rue is most likely a wizard.
It must mean he’s made all those magic tools to wear for himself.
I suspected it from the moment I heard from the assassin-butler that he’d casted a spell on the Eachus mansion, but it was clear now that he was a very good wizard.
Look, even his voice is impressive.
“If you stare at someone’s face like you want to rip it off for so long, shouldn’t you at least leave a comment of appreciation?”
The voice is as if it is deeply embedded with a steel seal heated by fire on a rock covered with mud.
Should I pretend I didn’t hear it?
Still, since I’ve decided to communicate with him properly, I shouldn’t openly ignore him.
I chose the easiest topic to talk about, leaving behind the questions I wanted to ask Rue – which were piling up enough to come out of my throat at any moment.
“I planted flowers.”
About the small, tiny pot that he’d entrusted me with.
Rue, who tilted his head, smiled as he narrowed his shaded eyes lightly.
“That’s a weird answer. Does that mean flowers come to your mind whenever you look at my face?”
Then he said with a picturesque smile.
“You must’ve planted flowers like me.”
Flowers like me? What do you mean flowers like you? And how do you know what flowers I planted?
What I planted wasn’t a seedling, but some random seeds that I picked up roughly from the market.
“Don’t pretend to know something when you don’t.”
Rue couldn’t possibly know what kind of flowers they if I didn’t know either.
“Pretending when I don’t know? Hmm. So, what did you plant?”
I answered with the most serious expression I could make so the lie wouldn’t be caught.
“It’s a secret.”
A laugh of absurdity burst out in his voice.
“There must be only so few things as pathetic as not knowing what kind of flowers you planted yourself.”
Tak. When Rue closed the book he was reading so diligently, its name was revealed on its cover.
‘Seven Mystery Treasures of the content for Children.’
Why is that?
Why am I so sure that book has a story about Dian Cecht?
I remembered the reason I was inspecting Rue a beat late.
It’s ironic. Just as I’d stopped paying attention to him and was trying to focus on my work, we were reconnected by the common name known as “Dian Cecht.”
Is Rue only after Dian Cecht’s eyes? Or the other four relics too?
If I just asked Rue if he was looking for Dian Cecht’s relics himself, the suspicion between us might be resolved unexpectedly quickly. If only Rue and I were involved, I would have done it.
However, the problem is that the person who handed over this information was the assassin-butler.
The butler assassin was a valuable link that provided me information on Rue. If Rue suspected the assassin-butler for even a moment and eventually kicked him out, I would suffer a huge loss.
‘Above everything, I can’t ignore the possibility that this man intentionally let this piece of information slip to me.’
This man, Rue.
A man full of insidiousness, except for his shiny skin.
“Did you make some sort of mistake with Ms. Daisy, Mr. Rue?”
“I’m not sure. Staring at my face in a stupor once or twice is understandable, but from now on, I’m going to charge a sight-seeing fee.”
And the most brazen guy in the world.
“Daisy…even if she doesn’t look it, she’s an honest person.”
The maid who appeared from across the garden blocked my view of Rue.
“Did you see everything?”
“Then go to work now.”
This woman, the head maid.
She’s the most heartless woman in Midwinterre.
Just as I was about to raise the body that’d been sitting by the window for some time.
Rue, who walked towards me leisurely on his long legs, handed me something. I subconsciously accepted the small wooden sign without thinking.
“Name the flowers you planted and put this in the pot.”
It was a name tag for a flowerpot. It was so ridiculous.
He replied with a kind smile to my counter-question, which was unpleasant, troublesome, and uncomfortable to hear.
“Our Daisy is so insincere. Even if you don’t know the breed, you should at least name it. Responsibility starts with something surprisingly small.”
I stared at the broad shoulders that disappeared into the distance, and looked down at the wooden sign in my hand.
It’s not even an animal. Why would I name it?
I snorted and threw it roughly into the trash can. Then I slowly turned around and picked up the wooden sign again.
Rue has a bad personality, so he’ll probably pay back in double if I throw this away. It’s not even a difficult task, so it might be better to just listen to him.
I pondered about the name of the pot for a long time before putting up the sign after sunset.
The sign was empty.
Eventually I gave up naming.
And that evening, after a long time came a visitor.
i was waiting for Rue to be like “you should plant daisies” this whole chapter then I remembered Rue is Rue.