Maylily - Chapter 18

Roused by sunlight pricking at her eyelids, Maylily blinked her heavy, tired eyes blankly. Then, upon discovering that the clock on the bedside table showed past ten, she sprang upright.

“Ah… today I go in during the afternoon.”

Only belatedly did she recall that her work schedule had been adjusted because of the patronage party the night before. With a hand pressed to her startled chest, Maylily let out a sigh of relief and lay back down again. After the tumultuous night, her body had no strength left.

She almost never overslept. The uncharacteristically late morning was due to the events at the opera’s patronage gathering replaying in her mind all night, until she managed to fall asleep only at dawn.

And now, upon opening her eyes again, that man’s face flickered before her once more.

“Haa…”

A heavy sigh fell from Maylily’s lips as she stared unfocused at the ceiling.

More than the humiliation of being overpowered by the Count of Everscourt and having her first kiss stolen, it was the anxiety and fear of what might follow from his sudden change in demeanor that weighed down her chest. At the same time, those words alone were insufficient to define the feeling pressing so heavily upon her heart.

“But I’m not in such a desperate state that I must lure a woman by flaunting patronage. I’m not even that attracted to you.”

After saying that, then why…

Tracing back to the memory of the previous night, Maylily slowly moved her fingertips over her dry lips. The mouth that had swallowed hers carried a fresh, sweet fragrance. It was the scent of champagne she had diligently poured into glasses all evening but never dared to taste.

The kiss with the man who had capriciously subdued her was a mixture of frighteningly new and strange sensations. And yet, what came to mind first from that memory was the fragrance of champagne.

That realization was both bewildering and dreadful.

Letting out a sigh so deep it felt as though the ground might collapse, she buried her face into her pillow. At that moment, a rustling sound came from beyond her bedroom door.

Shaking off her thoughts immediately, Maylily slipped into her slippers and draped a gown over her thin nightdress. She cautiously opened the door and stepped out, where Mrs. Keaton, arms full of bundles, greeted her with a cheerful voice.

“Good morning, Miss.”

Mrs. Keaton, the housekeeper hired by David, had called Maylily “Miss” from the very start.

Though Maylily had requested she call her by name since she was no noblewoman but a commoner, Mrs. Keaton insisted on maintaining the respectful title. In this day and age, she said, anyone who employed servants was naturally a master, miss, or young master, regardless of rank. She added that such practices were quite common in the capital.

“I must have woken you. I’m sorry.”

Maylily quickly shook her hand at Mrs. Keaton’s words as the woman glanced at her nightclothes.

“No, not at all. I had been up for some time. But today is not your usual day, so how…”

“Mr. Curren asked me, since you injured your hand. Oh dear, it seems quite bad.”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bandage wrapped around Maylily’s hand. The handkerchief she had tied last night had been replaced by a proper bandage, thanks to the Count of Everscourt’s insistent demand.

“The wound on your hand is deep, so you must go straight to the hospital.”

“If I leave now, the director will be angry. I will go to the hospital tomorrow.”

“If you disobey me and sour my mood, wouldn’t that in itself anger Director Fritz? Do you still not understand such a simple balance of things, Maylily?”

“……”

“Concern yourself only with my mood. I will handle the rest.”

The man had spoken as though he were Maylily’s god and master. His arrogance was unbearable, yet given how easily he bent her to his will each time, perhaps he truly was becoming something close to that.

“The bandage looks thick, but it is not a serious injury.”

Swallowing her unease with a sigh, Maylily forced a cheerful smile at Mrs. Keaton.

“That is a relief. Still, to heal quickly, it’s best not to get it wet, so I will come by daily until it is fully healed.”

“That really is not necessary…”

“I’m paid to do this work, so please don’t look so apologetic. Mr. Curren also instructed me to.”

And surely that “Mr. Curren” had received instructions from the Count of Everscourt. As Maylily mulled over the unexpected consideration from a man she had thought indifferent and cold, Mrs. Keaton spoke.

“You must go to work today, yes? I will heat some water for you to wash. Please rest a bit.”

Her duties were strictly limited to household chores, so it would normally be Maylily’s place to prepare her own wash water. But before she could object, Mrs. Keaton was already heading toward the kitchen, and her retreating figure suggested that persuasion would be futile.

“…Thank you, Mrs. Keaton.”

After a brief hesitation, Maylily called out her gratitude to the woman’s back, then returned to her room to make the bed. It was time to shake off the memories of yesterday and begin a new day.

***

On the Roden Opera House’s day of closure, the opera troupe members gathered for the dress rehearsal of the production that would premiere the following month. Among the chorus members changing into costumes and applying makeup in their shared dressing room was Maylily.

Vanessa, who had arrived early and finished preparing, carried a glass of champagne she had set aside yesterday and approached Maylily, who stood before the cabinet. She intended to repay the trouble of having to clean the hall the previous night after Maylily suddenly disappeared.

“Where did you run off to yesterday?”

Recalling the events of the previous day, Vanessa burst out irritably. The surrounding gazes turned toward them, and embarrassment spread over Maylily’s face as she adjusted her costume, which only made Vanessa more aggressive.

“You caused a scene and left us to deal with the aftermath. Only I and the others suffered for it. How can you be so irresponsible?”

See, one cannot ignore where someone comes from. Tsk. Vanessa clicked her tongue and added, while Maylily bit her lip as though swallowing anger. Not that she would dare to talk back.

In the early days after joining, Maylily would sometimes offer quiet retorts, but every time Vanessa cruelly trampled her down further, leaving her completely submissive now.

“I am sorry. I hurt my hand and needed treatment…”

“You cannot even push a trolley properly without causing trouble for everyone else, yet you are skilled enough at catching men’s attention, aren’t you?”

“What? A man?”

Could it be… did she see at the patronage? Maylily’s breath caught as she barely forced out her voice in reply.

Vanessa narrowed her eyes and sneered. “Don’t play dumb. Everyone saw you being carried out of the hall in a man’s arms yesterday.”

Ah, so it was about Michele…

Maylily almost let out a sigh of relief but quickly closed her mouth. If she showed a reaction contrary to expectations, Vanessa would start another round of interrogation.

“That man, is he your lover? Or…”

Drawing out her words, Vanessa watched Maylily’s response carefully.

“Your patron?”

“No, nothing like that. Just… just someone I know.”

Maylily mumbled evasively, as though unable to clearly explain her relationship with the man.

Could he truly be her patron? According to what Vanessa had inquired yesterday, the man was a former opera singer from Cartia and now a teacher of the Cartian language.

In other words, aside from his polished appearance, he was an insignificant man. Judging from the fact that Maylily still wore rags, it was obvious he did not even have the means to buy her a single dress.

As a patron for an artist, he fell short, yet in another sense, he seemed perfectly suited as the patron of a rustic country girl.

“Maylily has found a patron, so stop tormenting her. She is no longer someone you can treat carelessly.”

All this fuss over such a man? Uncle is truly excessive.

Even if her guess was wrong, Vanessa would not be restrained. Surely Maylily had tattled that she had tripped her, and yet since nothing had come of it, it only proved that her patron didn’t care much for her or was too powerless to interfere in the internal affairs of the opera company.

With a patron of merely that level, why should Vanessa refrain from treating Maylily however she pleased?