A Message for Qian VII

"Betisa, you're back."

As soon as the maid with the appealing round face entered the room, several other maids gathered around her and chattered their greetings. Betisa patted her apron and raised her brows at the lady of the house, then gestured for her sisters to be quiet before asking in a whisper, "Shh, let me ask you—has Her Ladyship been resting properly since I left?"

At that question, the girls immediately pulled long faces. Ever since Qian had been confined here by Her Majesty the Queen, she had seemed terribly depressed all day long. Sometimes she even muttered to the spear she had somehow produced from nowhere, making the maids suspicious and wonder whether something had gone wrong with the countess's mind. Every day, they had to report Qian's daily routine to Her Majesty—the Queen was clearly still very concerned about this lady, and at least in this matter, she never entrusted it to anyone else. She always found time amid her busy schedule to hear Betisa's report in person. Yet Her Majesty had made no comment about the countess's odd behavior, so naturally, they did not dare speculate.

But Qian was always dispirited. She ate little and slept even less, giving them no end of headaches.

Seeing their expressions, Betisa understood at once. She sighed and said, "Ah, let the countess rest properly. Don't bother her anymore. She must be homesick, but Her Majesty won't allow her to go back."

"That's right, that's right," the maids chorused. "Those of us from the mountains always long for our homeland. I often find myself remembering the maple trees covering the mountains back home."

Another maid studied Betisa's face and asked softly, "Betisa, you don't look very well. Is Her Majesty in a bad mood again?"

"Shh." Betisa glared at her.