Chapter 281: Monika [2]

Monika looked at the young Ulrich through eyes still wet with tears. For a moment, even her crying seemed to stop as she took in the boy standing in the corridor.

He was unlike the other boys she had known.

His dark crimson hair and eyes would have made him noticeable anywhere, but it was more than his appearance. He looked at Aronn and his friends as though he expected an explanation and had already decided none would satisfy him.

Monika had heard of the Rubenharts all her life. Seeing one of them so close was different.

Their House was among the founding Houses of Skargardia, with roots reaching back a thousand years. Her father had held land beneath the Count’s authority, and now her uncle was preparing to do the same. To Monika, Rubenhart had always meant the power above her family, the name mentioned whenever her father discussed obligations he could not neglect.

Ulrich was heir to all of it.

His mother had also been a princess of an Arcadian House. Monika knew that much from the conversations of adults, although she had never given great thought to what such a connection meant. Looking at him now, she could understand why people spoke of his bloodline with such care. Even at fifteen, he seemed to belong to a world far removed from the boys standing beside her.

“My lord!”

Aronn bowed immediately, placing a hand against his chest. His friends followed a moment later, their movements awkward in their haste to offer the proper greeting.

Ulrich watched them.

Then he approached.

His footsteps sounded lightly along the corridor, but Monika felt a chill as he came closer. She could see the same fear in Aronn’s face. Her cousin had spoken so confidently moments earlier, certain that his father’s new position gave him authority over everyone in the mansion. Now he seemed unable to decide whether to hold his bow or straighten.

“On your knees.”

The three boys flinched.

None asked why. Aronn went down first, his friends following on either side. Their knees struck the floor awkwardly, and they lowered their heads before Ulrich reached them.

He stopped in front of Aronn.

Monika remained where she had fallen, one hand braced against the floor. She looked from her cousin’s bowed head to Ulrich, fearful what would happen next.

Ulrich raised his foot and drove Aronn’s head down.

Monika gave a frightened cry.

The other two boys recoiled, but neither dared rise. Aronn’s face was pressed against the floor, blood beginning to run from his mouth. He made a strained sound and tried to shift, only to stop when Ulrich’s boot kept him in place.

“Are you Heron’s son?”

His voice was cold.

“Y—Yes…”

Aronn’s answer was barely clear enough to understand. Monika saw tears gather at the corners of his eyes. Whether they came from pain or fear, she could not tell. It seemed likely to be both.

“Then why are you here instead of beside your father, greeting mine?”

Aronn tried to answer, but no words came.

“Must I come looking for you before you show me respect?”

“N—No, my lord.” His breath caught. “My apologies…”

Ulrich looked down at him for several more seconds.

Aronn did not move. His companions stayed on their knees with their eyes fixed on the floor, evidently afraid that any attempt to intervene would draw the same punishment upon them.

At last, Ulrich took his foot away.

He offered no further warning and asked no more questions. He simply walked past them, leaving the three boys kneeling in the corridor.

Monika watched him go, too stunned to speak.

Later that day, she stood in the large reception chamber while the official documents were completed.

Her uncle sat on a couch, carefully dressed for the occasion, with Aronn and Monika behind him. Aronn kept his head lowered. His face had been cleaned, but he remained pale, and the swelling around his mouth made it difficult to hide what had happened.

He had not spoken to Monika since the corridor.

Opposite Heron sat Count Eurich Van Rubenhart. Ulrich stood behind his father with his hands clasped at his back, as composed as he had been when he first appeared upstairs.

Aronn did not look toward him.

Monika was frightened too, but curiosity eventually overcame enough of that fear for her to raise her eyes. She did it cautiously, ready to look away if Ulrich noticed.

His attention was on the documents.

Eurich had just signed the last of them. The scratch of his pen ended, and Heron leaned forward to inspect the papers that confirmed his authority over the territory. He tried to contain his satisfaction, though Monika knew him well enough to recognise it.

The lands were his now.

The years he had spent resenting his elder half-brother had ended with him sitting in the place he had wanted, receiving the Count’s recognition while Monika stood behind him.

“Thank you, my lord,” Heron said, rising. “I will serve you faithfully until my last breath.”

Eurich gave him an unimpressed stare.

“I am interested in deeds, not words.”

“Of course.”

Heron nodded quickly. His smile remained, though it became more restrained.

Monika lowered her gaze. She had heard Eurich described as a man difficult to please, and nothing about his visit suggested that the stories exaggerated. Her uncle had been eager to display his gratitude, but the Count seemed to regard that gratitude as no more than what was expected.

Eurich put down the pen and stood.

The meeting appeared to be over. Heron moved as though to accompany him toward the door, and Aronn stepped back to leave room. Monika prepared to do the same.

“Father.”

Ulrich’s voice stopped them.

Eurich turned his head. He did not look pleased at being delayed, but he waited.

“I will take her as my personal maid.”

Monika flinched.

For an instant, she did not understand whom he meant. Then she raised her eyes and found Ulrich looking directly at her.

She lowered them immediately.

A maid?

His personal maid?

The words had been spoken so calmly that she wondered whether some arrangement had already been made without her knowledge. Yet her uncle’s expression showed that he had not expected the announcement either.

Eurich looked at Monika, then back at his son. His face darkened slightly.

Ulrich continued before his father could dismiss the proposal.

“She can read and write. She is educated and was raised in a noble household. She will serve me better than my current servants.”

He spoke as though describing qualifications for a position rather than proposing to remove someone from the house she had lived in all her life.

Monika stood very still.

She knew how to carry out the ordinary duties expected of a noble girl, but she had never served anyone in the way Ulrich meant. She had no idea what being his personal maid would require. Would she live at Rubenhart Estate? Would she be expected to leave today?

Her thoughts moved too quickly for her to ponder too long on any one question.

But anywhere away from here seemed good, especially now that her uncle took officially power here.

“Besides,” Ulrich added, “she has no further use here.”

The words stung, though Monika had heard the same judgment expressed in other ways since her father died. Her uncle had inherited. Aronn would inherit after him. No one had explained what place remained for her beyond obedience to the two of them.

Ulrich turned toward Heron.

“Am I wrong?”

Heron met his eyes, and the pause that followed was brief but noticeable.

Monika could see how carefully her uncle considered his answer. Ulrich had not raised his voice. There was nothing openly discourteous in the question. Yet the way he looked at Heron made disagreement seem unwise.

The new tenant lord gave a nervous smile.

“Of course not, my lord. I had been considering what sort of life to arrange for her myself.”

Aronn shifted beside Monika, but said nothing.

Heron continued quickly.

“There could be no better place for her than in the service of the future Count Rubenhart.”

Eurich listened to Heron’s answer, then turned his gaze toward Monika.

She had kept her eyes lowered while the men spoke. Now she understood that remaining silent would be a mistake. Ulrich had asked to take her into his service, and her uncle had agreed readily enough, but the Count had yet to approve it. If he doubted whether she would be useful, he could dismiss the matter and leave her here.

Monika made herself raise her head.

Eurich’s eyes were more frightening than his son’s. She could not tell what he thought of her, and she doubted he cared whether she was frightened. He seemed to be examining something Ulrich had chosen to bring home, deciding whether it was worth the trouble.

“It would be my pleasure to serve my lord,” she said quickly.

Her voice was calmer than she expected. She held his gaze for another moment, determined not to spoil the answer by looking away too soon.

Eurich gave no sign that it pleased him. He simply moved past Ulrich toward the door.

“Do as you see fit.”

With that, he left.

Ulrich inclined his head in acknowledgment, then looked at Monika again.

“Have your belongings ready within an hour. We are leaving immediately.”

She nodded quickly.

“Yes, my lord.”

Monika watched him leave the chamber, his steps carrying him after his father, and only when he was gone did she realise how tightly she had been holding her breath.

She could breathe again.

More than that, she felt as though something heavy had been lifted from her shoulders. Since her father’s death, every day had brought another reminder that she no longer knew what would happen to her. The mansion was familiar, but her place within it had become cold. Her uncle held authority over the household, Aronn knew it, and Monika had begun to dread what that authority might mean once there was no important visitor to restrain him.

Now she would be gone within an hour.

She was to serve Ulrich Van Rubenhart, the frightening son of an even more frightening Count. She knew little about him beyond what she had witnessed that day, and she had no reason to think service at Rubenhart Estate would be easy. His manner suggested he would expect obedience, competence, and little patience for excuses.

Yet none of that filled her with the fear she had felt at the thought of remaining here.

Instead, beneath all these complex emotions, there was a strange anticipation. She would leave the house where she had become unwanted. There would be duties she could learn, work she could do, and a place that had been offered to her rather than grudgingly permitted.

Ulrich had spoken of her education and usefulness. He had made taking her sound like a practical choice, one neither his father nor her uncle had reason to oppose.

Monika only understood why he had done it.

He had not asked for gratitude. She felt it all the more strongly for that.

Whatever he expected of her as his maid, she would do her best to learn it. She would work hard, listen carefully, and give him no reason to regret bringing her into his household.

Before she even left the chamber to gather her belongings, Monika had resolved to devote herself to his service.

Who should I prioritize between entitled free readers who blabber, whine negatively about me and my book, and the wonderful Privilege Readers who support me with money, are understanding, supportive, and, above all, are intelligent enough to understand something once told once? Hm, very tough question indeed.

Far from being snarky about it, when you get something free, because yes, you are reading it for free, and I am addressing that peculiar, disrespectful category, little but very pestering group, I know they will recognize themselves. You shut up and don’t whine or insult your benefactor; I believe that is basic respect, and that applies in every situation when you get something for free. When even Priv Readers understand that and don’t feel even that entitled, I wonder how ‘some’ reading it for free have the gall to feel like I owe them anything?

I believe that is a problem of education above all else. I have been a reader too, still a reader sometimes, and I’ve read a lot of books; the ones I liked, I supported, and the ones I found flaws in, or that weren’t to my taste, I didn’t ‘order’ the author to change this or that or whine under every comment from the author. I simply acted like a normal, ordinary educated fellow, and walked away.

I guess this is hard for a peculiar breed; I suppose I underestimated their number on this platform, my dear mistake for it.

Otherwise, I thank the other people, Free and Priv Readers, who are the crushing majority (Thank God) for sending me kind, supportive messages so far.

Sincerely, the kind author who drinks the tears of the haters (Here’s a whole ass chapter only for you, be grateful) 🙂