CHAPTER 1

Wound

A grey wolf lay flat on the floor, gazing up at its master. Cecilia, the wolf's owner and the mistress of this massive mansion, slowly stroked the wolf's forehead while looking at the new maid. Wolves were beasts that humans could not easily tame, but Cecilia possessed a remarkable talent for taming wild things. Not just beasts, but people as well.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Cecilia's pronunciation was slightly different from that of the mainland. It was soft and elegant, yet firm. Perhaps it was a lingering habit from her long years of studying abroad and speaking French. Rumor had it that as a young girl, she had spent a long time in France to learn trade skills alongside her father. What had the young lady learned in France? Had she acquired that elegant demeanor and smile there as well? The new maid, Ariel, lifted her head to answer the question.

"No, My Lady. I'm just afraid of dogs."

"You'll have to get along with him if you're to stay with me. His name is Jackal."

"What a wonderful name. Though he is a bit scary."

'Just like you,' Ariel added inwardly. She was not particularly fond of animals, especially dogs that obeyed only their masters. Unlike her, Cecilia looked at Jackal with a loving gaze, clearly cherishing him deeply.

As Cecilia rose from her seat, Jackal, who had been lying down, also stood up and followed his mistress with slow steps. The rhythmic clicking of her high-heeled golden shoes was pleasant to hear, it sounded as if bells had been attached to the heels. Ariel found herself unconsciously staring at the lady's calves, but as Cecilia approached her, she hurriedly cast her gaze downward.

"Take this. This is the maid's uniform you'll be wearing from now on."

Cecilia tossed her a garment that had been draped over the sofa. It was a plain-colored dress with wide sleeves. The pockets were large, making it look practical for work.

"Thank you. I will go and change immediately."

"You can change right here."

"Pardon?"

"Exactly what I said."

Seated in her velvet chair, Cecilia looked at Ariel with a relaxed yet resolute expression, showing no intention of retracting her decision.

Holding the uniform, Ariel paused to consider this insulting working environment. Working as a maid in this house paid 100 silver coins a month, three times the wage of her previous job. In some houses, she had been forced to strip in front of a male steward to prove she wasn't hiding any weapons.

Compared to that, stripping in front of a woman should... surely be easier. But Cecilia's gaze did not allow Ariel to think that way. Ariel instinctively knew that her new mistress was the type of person who hated having to repeat herself. It was a sense of intuition honed through serving numerous masters.

Ariel cautiously began to undo the buttons of her top. Even as the buttons came undone one by one and the garment parted, Cecilia's expression remained unchanged. Once the outer layer was completely off, Ariel felt the cold air hit her back. She tried to maintain a composed expression to hide her embarrassment. From the moment she fled her previous master to come to this mansion, Ariel had vowed to endure any hardship.

Ariel looked at Cecilia, signaling that this should be enough and asking to be dismissed, but Cecilia's eyes told her to remove her undergarments as well. After a moment of hesitation, Ariel finally undid her underwear and let it drop to the floor. Her body was thin from a lack of sufficient food, but years of working as a maid had left her with lean, firm muscles. Ariel awkwardly covered her breasts with her hands and looked at Cecilia. Only then did Cecilia rise and walk toward her, slowly scanning her body.

"I heard you've been a maid for a long time."

"Yes... since my parents were orphans and my family was struggling..."

"When did you start this work?"

"At twelve... no, around ten years old..."

"You were beaten by your previous master."

Cecilia spoke as she discovered the red scar marks on Ariel's back. Flustered, Ariel couldn't give a straight answer. She had been certain the scars had faded by now... Marks of being beaten were evidence of a maid's incompetence.

It seemed Cecilia had forced her to strip specifically to see this. With an anxious gaze, Ariel looked at the letter on the vanity. The envelope had been torn open, and the paper was half-folded.

That letter was a recommendation for Ariel to work as a maid, forged by a butler who had often helped her before she fled her previous master. It was a detailed account of how capable and kind Ariel was, claiming she had never once been beaten and always performed her chores without being told, expressing deep regret at letting her go to another house.

"These scars won't fade easily."

Ariel felt Cecilia's white-gloved hand touch her back. The sudden contact caused a shiver to run down her spine, forcing her to straighten her back. The texture of the glove was slippery. Because the scars were so old, the area was numb, but the memory of that time still stung.

Her previous master had tormented her at every opportunity, finding trivial excuses to beat her. She had used a leather whip on Ariel's back, just as she did with the male servants, and sometimes threw ceramics or books at her.

The woman had always been famous for her vicious personality, but she was a lunatic who took particular pleasure in tormenting Ariel more than any other maid. Even Ariel, who had been tossed around various households as a maid, had eventually been driven to flee.

"I fell from a carriage when I was young. The scars are from then."

Ariel was terrified of becoming a wanderer again. If she couldn't work here, she would be cast onto the streets immediately. She wanted to return to her hometown, but fearing her previous master was hunting for her in a rage, she had crossed the sea by ship to get here.

With no respectable status, orphan parents, and a reputation as a maid disliked by her previous master, she was a being worth less than a pebble on the road. A being that could be beaten without reason simply because someone felt like it. Maids were meant to be used at the whim of the ladies and then tossed into the gutter once they were worn out.

After being beaten, she would barely pull herself together from the cold pavement and set off to find the next job, if she couldn't get up, that was the end. She had lived that way for years, but she never wanted to return to those back alleys.

Cecilia smiled as she looked at the lying Ariel. She removed her gloves, placed them on the table, and beckoned her to come closer. 'Did she catch my lie?' Ariel walked toward Cecilia, fearing a slap. Since she had even forged a recommendation letter, it wouldn't be strange to be beaten right now. No noble would ever write a recommendation for a maid who had been beaten.

"From what I can see, there are still many scars elsewhere."

Cecilia reached out and stroked a thin, red scar beneath Ariel's neck. Her hand then moved further down, passing between Ariel's breasts and heading toward her navel. There was a faint scar next to her belly button as well.

"What is this?" Cecilia asked, as if demanding an answer. Ariel hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"...It is a scar from an appendectomy."

"So, you're saying there isn't a single scar from a beating."

"All my previous masters were kind and treated me well."

"You don't have to lie to me," Cecilia whispered.

Ariel looked into Cecilia's deep eyes and thought.

'If I confessed everything truthfully here, she might pity me and let me stay for a night. That I'm just a young girl who lived a miserable and pitiful life. She might give me a few gold coins, dress me in new clothes, and give me warm food.'

'How painfully her previous master beat her and how long she was starved, how she only tried to live diligently, yet things kept tangling like a knotted ball of yarn, and how many unfair things she suffered because she had nothing... If she told her that she struggled just to survive because she couldn't bring herself to die...'

But the expiration date of pity is short. It is more fleeting than a flower. A flower can make someone happy through its own merit, but help born of pity is closer to incurring a debt.

One must continue to sell their own misfortune to pay that debt and satisfy the other person's feeling of having helped someone pitiful. To be happy, one must constantly recount how miserable a child they are. Of course, once the supply of unfortunate stories runs out, those people usually spit them out like tasteless gum.

Rather than that, Ariel wanted to be a useful person. Someone with no unfortunate past, who worked cleanly and diligently, someone worth paying.

"I am always sincere, My Lady. I have been lucky enough to always meet good masters. I believe this time is no different."

Ariel bowed politely. Looking at her, Cecilia was reminded of the day she first brought home Jackal. A great grey wolf who had once been the leader of a pack, but after growing old and sick, had lost a hierarchy battle, suffered great injuries, and lay bleeding on the snowy plains. Everyone had tried to stop her, but Cecilia had insisted on bringing the wolf home and treating its wounds.

"...A loyal maid, indeed."

Cecilia rose and took a small, jewel-encrusted jar from the vanity drawer. When she opened the ruby-studded lid, there was an ointment inside. As Cecilia approached her again, Ariel looked at her, tense with anticipation.

However, Cecilia dipped her finger into the ointment and stroked Ariel's neck. Ariel flinched, but she remained still while Cecilia applied the cream. Cecilia began applying the ointment to the scars across her body. Cecilia's hands smelled pleasant, as if she had applied a fine oil. The touch of her fingers spreading the cold ointment thinly felt ticklish.

"Ow..."

Ariel winced when Cecilia touched a relatively recent wound. It was a scar on her side, near her hip. Even if she asked what it was, she wouldn't give a proper answer. Cecilia looked at Ariel's expression as if it were cute, and as she applied the ointment, she traced the curve of Ariel's hip with her finger.

Despite the many scars, the skin underneath was quite soft. Meryl had told her that there was a line of maids wanting to enter this mansion, and that she could kick out any maid she didn't like at any time... but Cecilia liked Ariel.

The resilience of her firm skin despite the numerous small scars, and the composure of her brazenly lying without a flicker in her eyes. And on top of that, a cute face that still looked plump and healthy, as if the baby fat hadn't fully disappeared.

'Now, this one is mine.' Cecilia thought as she pressed the tip of her finger into the dimples of Venus above Ariel's buttocks.

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