TGDHC Chapter 71

Chapter 71 – Transfer of Power

I hadn’t abandoned my plan to keep a low profile in Blenheim and eventually leave quietly, but that didn’t mean I would just stand still and let someone attack me.

Up until now, I had made an effort to let the head maid, Marzella, keep at least some dignity.

It was a kind of respect for someone who had worked here for many years and risen to the position of head maid.

But now she had gone so far as to shamelessly plot something that disgraced the household she served. That was an insult to both Blenheim and the Duke.

She’s clearly crossed the line.

Since she was the one who first tried to ruin my reputation, I had no reason to hold back.

“Bring me Bennet,” I told Leta, my mind made up.

***

A short while later, Bennet arrived, looking unsure.

“I called you because I have something to ask,” I said.

“Y-Yes, Your Grace,” she answered.

I handed her the entry record Leta had just brought me.

“Did you go outside the castle yesterday? Your name is listed here.”

Bennet took the paper and quickly realized who had really used her name. I could see her calculating her options in her head.

After a pause, she looked up. “It wasn’t me.”

“Not you? But your name is here.”

“Sometimes the head maid uses other maids’ names when she goes out.”

I gave her a small, pleasant smile. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

As she looked confused, I tilted my head and showed her the faint injury on my forehead.

“You’ve heard about the incident yesterday, right? Well, it seems the culprit may be connected to whoever left the castle at that time.”

Realizing what I meant, Bennet let out a startled gasp.

“Your Grace! I swear it wasn’t me! The head maid… she used my name without telling me!”

“Good. I was worried you might try to cover for her out of loyalty.”

Bennet’s shoulders went rigid — she seemed to understand how much trouble she could have been in if she had answered differently.

“It’s a problem. If the head maid is really involved in something disgraceful, how can I trust her to run the household?”

Her expression shifted.

“But since I haven’t been here long, it feels wrong to just replace her myself,” I added, glancing at Bennet.

Luckily, she was quick to catch on. Straightening her posture, she clasped her hands.

“If I can ease Your Grace’s burdens in any way, I’ll do anything you ask. Please don’t hesitate to use me.”

“That’s good to hear.”

I smiled, satisfied, and gestured for her to sit.

“Sit down. We have quite a bit to discuss.”

***

In the servants’ quarters, on the third floor of the west wing, there was a room known as “Zella’s Parlor.”

It was a special lounge reserved only for senior maids who had long served the head maid.

Being invited there was a sign of high status.

Regular maids ate in the dining hall, but those allowed in the parlor enjoyed separate meals — and they only ate in luxury to what the masters of the house ate.

Every meal had meat, and instead of beer, fine wine was served.

Even outside mealtimes, leftover pastries or cakes from the Duke and Duchess’s table were available there, and ordinary maids risked harsh punishment if they even lingered nearby.

So when Marzella walked into the parlor that morning and saw lower-ranking maids eating cookies without permission, she was momentarily speechless.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said coldly.

But the maids just looked at her without fear.

“I asked what you’re doing!” she snapped, losing her patience.

She had been on edge for days.

It was Lady Meisel who ordered the job, so why am I the one left anxious?

When the Duchess unexpectedly went to meet the guild leader early, Marzella had to risk going outside to get the message to the hired hands.

And since the culprits had been foolish enough to get caught, she’d been worrying about being exposed and unable to sleep.

Now she was also hearing that the townspeople felt sympathy for the Duchess after the incident — which annoyed her further.

“Get up, all of you! Who said you could sit here?” she demanded.

“I did,” came a graceful voice behind her.

Marzella turned to see the Duchess standing in the doorway with her ladies-in-waiting.

The Duchess?

The lower maids quickly stood and bowed properly.

What is she doing here? Marzella thought, her heart skipping — had her involvement been discovered? But the Duchess’s expression was bright, not accusatory.

Forcing herself to appear calm, Marzella bowed.

“Not enough chairs, I see,” the Duchess said instead of returning the greeting.

Bennet, who had followed her in, replied quickly, “We’ll bring more from downstairs.”

Her tone was almost as if she were the head maid herself.

The way the maids had ignored Marzella earlier, and now the Duchess’s sudden appearance here — something was definitely going on.

It seemed the Duchess had permitted the maids to use the parlor.

Marzella lifted her chin. “Your Grace, this is the head maid’s parlor. The maids have their own lounge downstairs.”

“I know. But the one downstairs is far too small for their numbers,” the Duchess replied casually.

“So from today, they can use this one too.”

Seeing the maids looking at the Duchess with admiration, Marzella bit back her anger.

“With respect, Your Grace, this room is for meeting with maids and giving orders — it’s necessary for my work as head maid.”

“And you have a sitting room in your own quarters, don’t you?” the Duchess asked mildly.

“…Pardon?”

“In your private room — there’s a sitting area and a study attached. Just as you said, those spaces are for meeting with staff and giving instructions.”

Marzella was speechless — not because she had nothing to say, but because she was furious.

A room with a sitting area was her right as head maid.

“This room was originally the maids’ lounge, wasn’t it? Who gave you permission to claim it for yourself?”

“That’s part of the head maid’s authority…” Marzella’s voice wavered.

She felt truly wronged.

The chief butler, Whitley, had a small house inside the castle.

Her treatment was nowhere near that—and the excuse that he’d worked there his whole life meant little to her, because she too had devoted years to Blenheim.

“As I’ve said before,” the Duchess said evenly,

“Managing the household is the Duchess’s authority. And since you seem to question me at every turn, I think it’s best to lighten your burden so you make fewer mistakes. Cecilia?”

Right on cue, the lady-in-waiting stepped forward and held out her hand to Marzella.

“Hand over the keys to the estate.”

Everyone knew what that meant.

The maids in the parlor, and even those who had gathered outside to watch, fell silent.

Marzella’s body trembled.

The bundle of keys to the important rooms, corridors, and storerooms of the main castle was the symbol of her authority. She had never let it leave her side.

But she had no excuse to refuse.

At last, she took the keys from her breast and handed them over.

The lady-in-waiting immediately passed them to the Duchess.

“Bennet.”

“…?”

Holding the keys high for all to see, the Duchess called Bennet forward.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duchess placed the keys in her hands.

The maids’ eyes went wide.

The core of power that Marzella had monopolized for years had just been transferred in an instant.

“Take care of the tasks we discussed earlier, and bring the keys back after. And make sure to replace these chairs with proper ones.”

“I understand,” Bennet said politely, showing no visible reaction, and withdrew with the keys.

“A-Are you removing me as head maid?” Marzella stammered.

“Why would I do that?” The Duchess looked at her as if the idea were absurd.

“Then why…”

Marzella couldn’t bring herself to say Bennet’s name, but glanced in her direction. The Duchess followed her gaze.

“Bennet is simply acting as my representative. I can’t be running around carrying keys myself.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Marzella said.

“Is my meaning unclear?”

“No, it’s perfectly clear,” one of the maids behind her said sweetly.

“You remain head maid. You can give your opinions freely. But remember — the one who makes the final decisions is me.”

The Duchess even smiled as she said it.

But from the startled faces of the maids, Marzella could tell they were all thinking the same thing she was —

If Bennet was now carrying out the Duchess’s orders in her stead, wasn’t that essentially the head maid’s job?