“Scarlett Hesse. Twenty-seven, let’s see…….”

“I’m looking for a maid job, do you have any?”

“There’s plenty of that; labor is tight everywhere these days.”

The man pulled out a bundle of rolled papers from a large box.

“Élégieux, Winston, Milverne……. These are families in the neighborhood looking for maids. Winston is the highest paid at 800,000 soles. Milverne is also looking for a tutor.”

None of the names were familiar. Belviana bit her lip, then spoke quickly.

“Is there any way I can get into the old Lester manor?”

The old man looked up from the papers he had his nose buried in and studied Belviana’s face for a long moment. Just as she felt uneasy and started to rise from her seat, he extended his right hand. Hesitantly, she leaned her head closer, and he whispered

“You’d better watch your words, young lady. Those who squirm and get their hands on something are apt to have it taken away from them, the more precious it is.”

“…….”

“I don’t know what your story is, and I don’t care. I just want my money, so I’ll cut you some slack. You owe me, too.”

“…….”

“The mansion you speak of has passed into the possession of Mr. Winston, and you will owe me 500,000 sols for the introduction.”

The man’s words grew abruptly louder at 500,000 sols. He scribbled something on a piece of paper, then slammed his seal. Then he spoke in a voice loud enough to make the others turn around.

“You think I don’t know a couple of girls like you, who think they can bite a man’s ass and sell him something? The harder they get up there, the harder they stay down. I’m telling you, don’t pay too much money for nothing.”

Her cheeks burned at the untruth. The two men behind her chuckled and sneered. Belviana snatched the papers from the man’s hand, paid, and stepped out into the street, the laughter of the crowd behind her.

* * *

It was the second day after she mailed the letter of introduction and resume to Winston Manor. A messenger came to the inn looking for Scarlett Hesse.

He politely handed over the thick letter and took her acknowledgment. Sitting at the worn table, Belviana gently opened the letter with jam-stained hands. The letter, which was embossed with an ornate lion in gold leaf, read, “We need you to start immediately, tomorrow morning.” It was followed by a contract with a long list of working conditions and agreements.

Room and board, two nights out a week, three weeks of paid vacation if she worked a full year, a bonus system……. The list goes on and on, and the working conditions are as unconventional as they are generous. For a moment, Belviana forgot about her situation and wondered if she should settle down. But in her experience – and this, of course, is what she had heard the maids gossiping about when she was the lady of Lester- jobs with generous terms were usually hard work. Moreover, no matter how many years she spent in the convent, the pride of being a lady of the house was still ingrained in her. She hadn’t been driven to the point of making a life in the service of others.

She emptied her pockets of all the money she had left and bought some hair dye at a general store. The hair dye had only recently become fashionable, so it was readily available at street vendors. Of course, the quality was terrible and her scalp tingled like it was burning, but it worked.

After rinsing dozens of times until the black water stopped coming out, Belviana wrapped a tattered towel around her neck and looked in the mirror. Her pale complexion, thin body, and unruly black hair looked like a wicked witch from a fairy tale. Only her green eyes remained the same.

The next day.

Belviana awoke before dawn. The uninsulated inn room was bitterly cold, as always, and she rubbed her stiffened hands together and washed her face with cold water. Dressed in a short gray dress, she packed her bags and headed downstairs, where the innkeeper was waiting for her. Instead of paying for the remaining two nights, she gave her a packed lunch of cheese, soft white bread, and butter. Belviana gave it to the coachman and rode to the manor.

Over the hill, she could see the old Lester mansion in the distance. At the end of a long avenue of evergreens, its ivory-colored grandeur looked nothing like she remembered. Her stomach churned with nervousness and unexplained anxiety. This was the place where she’d come and gone in fancy dress, treated like royalty. Not like this, sitting in a carriage with a bale of hay.

It’s times like this that she realize how miserable she is. When she realizes she’s no longer privileged. When she realize that none of the things that used to be hers can be taken for granted anymore. She thought she’d prepared herself, but her mind was still racing.

The carriage traveled for another hour before the mansion came into view. The coachman dropped her off and walked away. Belviana stood at the heavy iron gate, delaying long enough to puzzle the gatekeeper.

“Have you come to apply to be a maid?”

The gatekeeper, seeing her shabby appearance, said with a hint of impatience. From her bosom, Belviana pulled a sealed letter, showed it to him, and stepped through the door. The moment she was fully inside the mansion, she felt a great sense of disquiet. The framework of the mansion was the same as she remembered, but everything was different, like a completely foreign place. From the types of flowers in the garden, for example, to the family crests adorning the walls. Where just a few years ago, the walls had been embossed with Lester’s sword and lilies, now they were carved with leaping lions.

Without much time to look around, she was ushered straight down the hallway, nervous that she might run into a familiar face, but every face she passed was a stranger. The hallway was filled with people waiting with contracts, as if to say they were hiring as they went along. It wasn’t until all the women who had come before her were in and out of the room that Belviana was able to stand before the maid. The maid lowered her glasses as she entered and asked.

“Is this your first time as a maid?”

“Yes, but I have been in the convent for many years and…….”

“Bow your head.”

The maid gently lifted the tip of Belviana’s bowed chin with her right hand. Her gracefully aged eyes scanned her face carefully, and with a sigh she leaned back in her chair.

“As much as I’d like to borrow a spare hand, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hire you. You paid an introduction fee, and he’ll return it.”

“What?”

“My master is about to marry, and I don’t think his wife-to-be will be pleased to see a girl as pretty as you, and I don’t think your fingertips will be able to keep up with the hard work…….”

The maid stammered, as if she were troubled. She did, but the hidden meaning was clear. It was not uncommon in recent times for prostitutes seeking employment with the emerging bourgeoisie to pose as maids.

The old families of Heidelberg, Lester, and Lancaster had chosen to self-destruct rather than submit to their noble character. The reasons were many. Responsibility for defeat, war reparations, the death of their heirs. Three classes of men had recently filled their void. Merchants with money to begin with, criminals who made their fortunes through illegal endeavors, or rags to riches. The third was the worst, and the most numerous. Drunk on their newfound power, they accumulated concubines by the dozen.

The head maid opened a box she had placed next to her desk. She selected platinum coins and placed them in a small silk pouch. Giving such an amount to a woman she’d likely only see once was a significant display of wealth, but that wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. Once she handed over the money, the head maid wouldn’t look back. Belviana desperately started to speak.

“Look, as you can see from my resume, I’ve been in the convent for a long time, over eight years. I’ve never been a maid before, but I can do all the washing and cleaning, and I’m……, and I can also write and read……..”

“Write?”

The maid, who had been listening dully, suddenly asked. Belviana instinctively realized she had to take the opportunity.

“I also have my diploma from Branford University, which I can show you right now in my bag.”

No matter how much times had changed, being able to read and write was still a huge advantage. The maid tapped her fingers on the table as if calculating. A woman’s hands had to be more delicate than a man’s to keep track of the manor’s affairs, and even copying out party invitations required some literacy.

She was a delightful talent, but she was far too pretty to hire. Even if she was skinny now from lack of food, she would gain weight as she got used to being a maid, and her appearance could be a recipe for trouble later. She didn’t ponder long.