Chapter 815: The Not So Happy Maid
Darius slowly turned toward Julie.
She hadn’t moved. Her expression was perfectly composed
But the pressure radiating from her was suffocating, a silent promise of death if he pushed too far.
Teasing her was one thing.
But going after her sisters was quite another.
He’d crossed a line.
The knights behind him sensed the danger too.
They gripped their weapons nervously, unsure of what to do.
Darius was furious himself.
’This bitch thinks she can threaten me?!’ A mere knight?!’
’I should draw my ’blade in my pants’ and show her what a true warrior looks like!’
’I’ll take her right here, right now, and show everyone that no one threatens Darius Valheim!’
But then his survival instincts kicked in.
He knew who Julie was. The Whispering Blade.
A woman so fast with her sword that you wouldn’t even know you were dead until your head hit the ground.
She could kill him before he even drew his weapon.
He immediately plastered a fawning smile on his face, all traces of arrogance gone.
"Now, now." He said, raising his hands placatingly. "No need to get all angry over just a couple of comments. I was merely complimenting some beautiful women."
"They should feel lucky to get praise from me—not many women catch my eye, you know."
Julie’s expression didn’t change, but the killing intent slowly receded.
It took every ounce of her self-control not to cut this man down where he stood.
But she knew the consequences.
The Valheim family would bring a world of trouble to the Holyfield estate. She couldn’t risk that.
She let out a controlled sigh.
"Young Master Darius, I would prefer it if you didn’t cause any problems here. Everyone at this festival is enjoying themselves peacefully. It would be a shame if that peace were disturbed."
Darius nodded agreeably. "Of course, of course. I wouldn’t dream of causing problems for such a lovely lady."
He glanced at the shopkeeper, who was still trembling on the ground.
"Normally, I would cut the head off a fool who dared to poison me." He said, his voice cold.
The shopkeeper whimpered.
"But since Miss Julie has asked me to let it go..." He made a dismissive gesture. "Go away. Don’t let me see your face again."
The shopkeeper scrambled to his feet and ran, disappearing into the crowd. Julie watched him go, then turned back to Darius.
"Young Master Darius, I don’t think you should be spending your time here. A party more befitting of a noble like yourself has been arranged at the Holyfield mansion."
"They would be honored to host you there. It’s a much better place for someone of your position."
She wanted him gone. She wanted him as far away from the festival as possible, before he caused even more trouble.
Darius’s eyes lit up with interest. "Oh? A party? Why wasn’t I informed of this?"
The old butler stepped forward, whispering something in his ear. Darius nodded slowly, his grin spreading even wider.
"Ah, hosted by the third young master of the Holyfield estate. How delightful."
He chuckled in a sleazy manner.
"I’ve always wanted to meet this so-called depraved noble. They say he’s the biggest scumbag on the entire continent."
"Since we share the same title, I wanted to see if he really lives up to the rumors."
"We might even become brothers, considering our shared taste in...well, everything."
There was a blatant note of disdain in his voice.
Julie felt bile rise in her throat. The idea that he could compare Cassius to this piece of filth was revolting. .
But she kept her composure, hiding the disgust on her face.
"Come along, young master. I’ll escort you to the mansion."
Darius grinned. "Excellent. Let’s see what this party is all about. I hope for your young master’s sake that it’s a good one!"
As the group rode away, the commoners in the festival let out a collective sigh of relief.
They were grateful to the Holy Guard for handling the situation before it escalated.
But they also felt immediate pity for the people at the mansion.
Darius was clearly not the type to calm down and mind his own business. They could already imagine the trouble he would cause.
’Poor Young Master.’ They thought. ’He’s going to have to deal with that monster.’
—
Meanwhile, Darius rode alongside Julie, his eyes constantly scanning her form with barely concealed hunger.
He was already planning how to take advantage of this visit.
’This Holyfield estate.’ He mused. ’If I play my cards right, I might be able to take more than a few things back with me including this feisty trio.
His smile was terrible.
’I’ve also heard that he’s got an array of beautiful women as his wives. Hehe. He wouldn’t mind giving them up for a night with this lord right?’
With those horrible intentions in mind, he made his way to the party that was awaiting him.
—
Back at the Holyfield estate, the party was in full swing.
The garden had been transformed into a miniature festival, with tables draped in fine cloth arranged in elegant patterns across the manicured lawns.
Performers from the main festival had been brought in to entertain the noble guests, their acts scaled down but no less impressive.
Lanterns and fairy lights hung from every available surface, casting a warm, golden glow over the proceedings.
And everywhere one looked, there were nobles in their finest attire!
The women wore elaborate gowns adorned with jewels and intricate embroidery.
The men strutted in tailored suits, their chests puffed with self-importance.
They moved through the crowd with practiced grace, their voices raised in haughty conversation.
"My dear Countess, have you seen the new tapestries at the Royal Palace? They’re simply divine. The craftsmanship is unparalleled."
"Oh, absolutely! But you must see the ones at my estate. I commissioned them from a master weaver in the Eastern Provinces."
"They cost a small fortune, but one must maintain certain standards, mustn’t one?"
"Indeed, indeed. One cannot be seen with anything less than perfection. It reflects poorly on one’s lineage."
The maids of the Holyfield household moved through the crowd with trays of drinks and deserts, their faces carefully neutral.
But inside, they were deeply dissatisfied.
Normally, the estate was a peaceful haven where everyone could relax and be themselves.
But tonight, they had no choice but to serve these pompous, arrogant nobles who looked down their noses at everything.
Their master had been forced to hold this party out of tradition. With so many nobles arriving for the festival, it would have been seen as an insult to not host them.
So the household had gone through the motions, setting up the party, preparing the food, and enduring the condescension of their guests.
All of them were hoping it would end soon. They longed to return to their peaceful lives, to forget this night of forced smiles and fake pleasantries.
—
But in the midst of this sea of dignified nobles, with their knights and guards at their sides, there was one figure who stood out like a flower in a field of thorns.
A little maid with short, slightly messy orange hair, tied back with a simple red ribbon.
Her black and white uniform was clean but modest, nothing like the elaborate dresses worn by the noblewomen.
Her face was young, far too young to be working as a maid and her wide, innocent eyes took in everything with childlike wonder.
Her name was Happy.
Just like Joy’s mother had named her for joy, Happy’s mother had given her daughter a name that was a wish, a hope, a prayer.
It was a name that had gotten her teased mercilessly as a child.
The other children would laugh at her, calling her silly names and making fun of her mother’s foolish optimism.
But Happy never minded. Her mother had given her that name out of love, and she wore it with pride.
But despite her mother’s hopes, Happy’s life had been anything but joyful.
Her father had been a merchant, always chasing get-rich-quick schemes that inevitably failed.
With each failure, he became more bitter, more abusive.
He would scream at her mother, throw things, break furniture.
Happy would hide in her bedroom, covering her ears, trying to block out the sounds of shattering glass and her mother’s sobs.
When she was ten, her father’s business finally collapsed entirely.
He turned to gambling and drinking, sinking deeper into despair.
The abuse worsened. He would beat her mother regularly, and sometimes he would come after Happy too.
Her mother would throw herself in front of her, taking the blows meant for her daughter, and Happy would watch, helpless and terrified.
When she was twelve, her father drank himself to death. But his debts lived on.
The loan sharks came calling, demanding payment.
The only way to escape them was to sell themselves into servitude to the noble household in their estate.
From that day on, Happy and her mother became servants of the Fulham family.
Her mother was assigned to cleaning and other menial tasks, working herself to exhaustion.
Happy became a maid, serving the master and mistress of the household.
But unfortunately, she was terrible at it.
Clumsy. Forgetful. Prone to daydreaming when she should be paying attention.
The head maid, a woman with a face like a clenched fist and a soul to match, took particular pleasure in correcting her.
"You spilled wine on Lady Fulham’s gown? Do you have any idea what that fabric costs? It’s worth more than your miserable life!"
"Late again? Perhaps we should send you back to the loan sharks. I hear they’re looking for new...acquisitions."
"Stupid girl. Worthless. Just like your drunkard father."
She lived in constant fear, her childhood stolen from her.
But tonight, everything was different.
Her master and mistress had been invited to the Holyfield estate’s party, and Happy had been brought along to serve.
She’d been terrified at first, expecting more of the same misery.
But the moment she’d stepped through the gates of the Estate and seen the festival in the distance, something had changed.
She became a child again!
She wanted to run to the rides, to play the games, to eat the food that smelled so amazing.
But she couldn’t. She was a maid, bound to serve her masters.
Then she’d been brought to the party itself, and to her amazement, it was like a miniature version of the festival!
She stood in the middle of it all, her mouth slightly open, her eyes shining with awe. She’d never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.
For a moment, she forgot she was a maid. She forgot her responsibilities, her fears, her miserable existence.
She was just a child, experiencing wonder for the first time in years.
But the reality quickly set in. She was a maid.
She couldn’t go on the rides. She couldn’t pet the animals. The snacks were reserved for nobles, not servant girls like her.
She was about to resign herself to another night of watching from the shadows when she heard a gentle voice above her.
"Little one, would you like to try a pastry?"
