In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 33
Chapter 33
She’d been told it was a small room attached to the bedroom, for whoever attended to the master. But to Hilde, it didn’t seem small at all. In the orphanage, she’d slept crammed together with others in spaces far smaller than this. Hilde took in the room piece by piece: a bed big enough for her to stretch out in, a nightstand beside it, a chest of drawers for clothes, a round table, and a chair.
The wallpaper was spotless, and the floor, varnished with something, gleamed. There wasn’t a single crack or broken piece anywhere. What thrilled Hilde most was the large, sun-drenched window. The cream-colored curtains, swaying gently in the breeze on either side of the open window, were so lovely that she gazed at them for a long time. Then, a sudden wave of unease washed over her.
‘Should I be allowed to enjoy this? Should I be allowed to be this comfortable?’
“I’m…” a slave. The unspoken words caught in her throat, tinged with a sudden surge of sorrow. The hidden wound in her heart, never revealed to anyone, now reared its head in her solitude.
‘It was just bad luck,’ she told herself.
‘Sometimes in life, you’re swept away by the current. Happiness and sadness… they both come to an end eventually…’
But no matter how hard she tried to be optimistic, a pang of sadness lingered.
“Give me courage, Sasha.” Hilde clutched the necklace at her chest and prayed.
***
Hilde spent the next few days learning the rules of the Grand Duke’s castle from Greta. These were the basics that all servants had to know upon entering.
“I think I’ve told you everything essential.”
“I’ll remember it well.”
“Your tea-making skills aren’t bad, but keep practicing.”
“Yes.”
Her diligent and respectful attitude pleased the head maid. For Greta, who managed countless servants, it was easy to recognize Hilde’s earnest and kind nature, despite her lack of experience. Watching Hilde absorb every word, Greta’s gaze softened as she offered further advice.
“Most of the staff here have been working for generations, their parents and grandparents before them, or they’ve come through connections and introductions. So, there will be quite a few who won’t be happy about you suddenly attending to His Grace.”
Hilde silently agreed. The head maid’s words rang true. It was perhaps natural for others to reject her, an outsider.
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll… I’ll be careful.”
“If anything happens that you can’t handle on your own, tell me.”
“Oh, no.” Hilde quickly shook her head. She couldn’t impose like that. She fiddled with her fingertips, gathering her thoughts, then added, “…I’ll do better. I’ll try not to cause any worry.”
The world had been harsh and unkind, even to an orphan. So, for a slave, an even more cruel and brutal life awaited. Hilde tried to steel her resolve. “I’m grateful for how you’re treating me now.”
Throughout her journey here, she’d been consumed by a vague fear. The life of a slave, as described at the orphanage, had been nothing short of miserable and wretched.
‘You should consider yourselves lucky to be living in this orphanage. Do you remember what I told you would happen if you were kicked out?’
‘We’d have to beg like paupers, or become slaves.’
‘Yes! I need to tell you the stories of what happened to those vermin again, so you don’t forget.’
The matron often regaled them with tales of unfortunate children, using them as cautionary entertainment to keep the orphans in line. Those stories remained a terrifying memory for Hilde. But despite her fears, the treatment at the Grand Duke’s castle was unbelievably good.
Everyone showed her simple kindness; she was given warm meals and a comfortable room. It almost felt like she was working as an ordinary employee. In fact, it made her uneasy at times.
“But, what if…” Hilde hesitated, and Greta nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“What happens if the Master no longer wants me to attend him?”
‘I hope I won’t be chased away or sold again. I hope I can stay here and work.’ Hilde forced the words out, twisting her fingers. “I’m good at laundry. I wash dishes without breaking them. I’ve often been told I work hard at any chore. So…”
