Author: Nikss

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No, Arthur’s had a rough couple of days, as well.”

 

It made me a little nervous, but he was nicer than I expected.

 

Of course, that was probably because he didn’t hold any ill will toward Morgana.

 

The glimpse into his life was something she hadn’t gotten to experience.

 

She was reminded that she had only known a small part of him.

 

“Will you be staying?”

 

Arthur paused, and Morgana tilted her head.

 

“Perhaps I’ll become a royal maid, if they’ll let me!”

 

She’d do anything to get in, but then again, one never knows.

 

“I’ll come home from time to time, and if Arthur gets bored, you can stay in your old room!”

 

I smiled, knowing he wouldn’t come anyway.

 

Arthur nodded in response.

 

That was the extent of the pleasantries.

 

As he turned to leave, she asked him bluntly. It wasn’t a thought, but pure curiosity.

 

“Was I a good person?”

 

Enough to forgive if he later found out she was from the Fay family.

 

Did I seem like a good person?

 

Arthur nodded at Morgana’s question.

 

“You’re still a good person even now.”

 

🗡️

 

For days on end during the recruitment period for royal maids, the entrance to the Royal Palace of Britain was packed.

 

Morgana’s jaw dropped when she saw the line at the entrance.

 

In her hand, she read, ‘First round accepted. Second round to be scheduled’ shivered slightly in her hand.

 

I had already completed the first round of the application process, so the whole experience was a blur.

 

“I heard that many families applied due to the terrible situation in the capital!”

 

What kind of number of people are there?

 

Even more frightening was the fact that this was the first group of people to be filtered out.

 

As they lined up to go to their respective testing centers, Morgana clenched her fists and braced herself.

 

‘It’s okay, I learned my manners early on, I’ve been practicing!’ 

 

Morgana had been training in the mansion, alone, pouring tea and scrubbing silverware.

 

Having lived on my own for a while, I was confident in my life.

 

After receiving the unusual number 3002, Morgana waited for the assessment.

 

While she waited, another candidate sitting next to her peered at her curiously and asked.

 

“You’re nervous, aren’t you? Where are you from?”

 

“Britain.”

 

A wave of empathy washed over Morgana before she could finish.

 

“Wow, I’m from Britain myself.”

 

“Oh, you too? Me too!”

 

As we introduced ourselves to each other, I locked eyes with a less-than-enthusiastic applicant.

 

Morgana’s gaze locked with hers, and 3009 snapped away.

 

‘What is it…?’

 

The other applicant asked her in a friendly tone.

 

“Where are you from, number nine?”

 

“I’m from Britain.”

 

The hostility toward Morgana was evident in the way she responded to the others.

 

In the waiting room, seven people in groups of ten were from Britain.

 

I’ll let you in, 3001 through 3010.”

 

As she rose to her feet, 3009 bumped into her shoulder as if to say, ‘Oh, I’m sorry’.

 

Seeing this, 3007, Sobella, grabbed Morgana’s shoulder and squealed.

 

“No, what’s wrong with her? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, I guess she just hates something.”

 

Probably the Morgana from before.

 

Just as I was about to enter the kitchen in line, 3009 whispered sarcastically.

 

“I don’t know what you do for a living, but here you are, applying to be a palace maid.”

 

“And you…?”

 

Morgana’s eyes narrowed in genuine incomprehension.

 

This was a spit in her face. She gritted her teeth at the question that came out of her mouth.

 

“Am I the same as you? If you can do it, why can’t I, a commoner, do it?”

 

Morgana searched her memory for a face that somehow looked familiar.

 

“Deanna?”

 

A vague connection from when she lived with her mother in the slums.

 

Morgana was a rough kid at the time, with no regard for the law or basic manners, and Deanna was more inclined to feel superior to her.

 

“Don’t call me names like we’re friends. I don’t like the idea of a girl with a nasty temper like yours being lumped in with me as a maid.”

 

Deanna snapped, spun, and stalked into the kitchen.

 

“Now, get in there!”

 

The maid urged, and Morgana followed her into the kitchen.

 

The kitchen tables were lined up in a row and numbered accordingly.

 

Morgana took a seat at number two. In front of each seat was a stack of dirty bowls and teacups.

 

The maid and handmaid sat in the chairs in front of them, flipping through papers and speaking in a stern voice.

 

“Now, let’s see how neatly you can wash the dishes within the time limit.”

 

Morgana crossed her arms.

 

How many careers have I had washing dishes in a restaurant?

 

Without much experience in her previous life, there wasn’t much she could do. The effects of rolling like a dog for a living must be showing now.

 

“Begin.”

 

Head Maid Cecilia scrutinized the applicants.

 

Number 1, whose coloring was unkempt, was rejected.

 

Number 5, with her hair sticking out, was also rejected.

 

The papers in her hand were crossed out.

 

‘Hmm… I’m afraid we don’t have enough children for Princess Guinevere’s chambers.’

 

If possible, from Britain. Preferably loyal to Britain.

 

Due to the risk of poisoning, they need to be more sensitive and neat than elsewhere. There was one in particular who stood out.

 

‘Number two… She dress appropriately…

 

Cecilia’s eyes widened in surprise as she watched Morgana through the corner of her eye.

 

Impeccable, with an eye for fine cutlery and an ear for what wasn’t.

 

The mix was deliberate, but unmistakable.

 

After a quick, rudimentary check of the fine cutlery, she double-checked it several times, and even put a towel between the pieces to keep it from getting chipped.

 

Even the other applicants next to her were impressed.

 

“Wow, fast!”

 

“The plate shines!”

 

Candidate #2 was just focused on her task.

 

‘Very focused,’ Cecilia quickly looked for the number on the paper.

 

‘Number two, what’s number two’s name?’

 

Morgana. No last name, but from Britain.

 

“Done!”

 

Even the final touch of wiping her hands dry after finishing quickly!

 

Cecilia showed the papers to the maid who was assisting with the screening next to her and pointed to Number Two.

 

“Take her to the next room.”

 

“Number 2, follow me!”

 

At the maid’s call, Morgana was the first to leave the kitchen.

 

Moving to the next-door exit, number ten, she made eye contact with Deanna, who still hadn’t finished sorting.

 

Morgana smiled knowingly and made a fist, “Cheer up!”

 

The look on Deanna’s face was priceless as she turned away from the cheer.

 

Next up was a room decorated to look like a reception room.

 

A total of five people passed the first test. Counting those who passed in the other room, the total was seven.

 

Deanna was one of them.

 

After waiting for a while, Cecilia entered the room. She sat down at a table in front of the lined-up applicants.

 

“I chose those who could recognize the silverware. But there’s no point in being able to categorize.”

 

She set down the paper with the list and sat down haughtily.

 

“Serve the tea in order.”

 

It was an easier test than I thought.

 

After all, tea etiquette was the first thing a maid would learn.

 

But when the first applicant came in with the tray and poured the tea without a hitch, Cecilia touched the teacup with her hand as if to say, ‘Oh, no.’

 

With a clatter, the tilted cup rolled over, and the tea spilled out.

 

Cecilia said, still holding her position.

 

“Oops, the tea spilled.”

 

The candidate ahead of her panicked at the unexpected turn of events and picked up the spilled cup.

 

As she reached for her handkerchief to wipe it up, Cecilia raised her hand to stop her.

 

“That’s it. Next!”

 

The next candidate muttered, counting on her fingers as if memorizing the sequence.

 

“When the tea spills, check on the lady first…”

 

But Cecilia was not pleased with her efforts.

 

“The tea is tasteless.”

 

“Oh, what?”

 

“Tasteless.”

 

“All right, I’ll serve it again.”

 

Cecilia sighed inwardly. Despite the haphazardness, there were many noble guests at the palace.

 

As the royal family’s disdain grew, so did the truth. Especially if you’re a maid and not even a Lady’s Maid of Honor.

 

Sadly, this was the life of a maid. If they’re not good enough, they won’t last long in the household.

 

“Next!”

 

Morgana came in at Cecilia’s call, dragging a tray.

 

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