Maid Scar

Phrolova wore a black and white maid outfit, the skirt reaching her knees, and white over-the-knee stockings that accentuated her straight legs.

Her expression was icy, as if someone owed her money.

Luna urged again, "What are you dawdling for? Come here."

Phrolova reluctantly took two steps.

She walked up to Luna, slightly raised her chin, and glanced down at Luna with a condescending look.

"What are you doing?"

"What kind of attitude is that?" Luna narrowed her eyes.

What business is it of yours what my attitude is?

Luna smiled.

"What, do you want to be further trained?" Luna tilted her head.

Phrolova's expression changed.

She clenched her skirt tightly, and finally swallowed her anger.

Her tone softened slightly, but her eyes remained firm. "... What do you want me to do?"

"Today is the young master's birthday banquet, and there will be many people and suspicious activity. You will come with me to ensure the young master's safety."

"Protect him?" Phrolova scoffed. "I don't have the Resonance Ability right now, and you want me to protect him?"

"Who said you were in charge of the actual fighting?" Luna poked Phrolova's chest. "You're in charge of being the bait. Those wicked women who want to get close to the young master will naturally come after you when they see you standing next to him. We'll just lie in wait and catch them all in one fell swoop."

Phrolova's expression cracked. "You want me to be a target?"

"Don't put it so harshly," Luna said with a smile, patting her shoulder. "It's called tactical division of labor. You draw the fire, and we'll take care of the rest."

Phrolova opened his mouth, as if he wanted to curse.

But Luna had already turned to the tall maid who was still standing next to her and looked her up and down.

Which department are you from? I've never seen you before.

My Scar skipped a beat.

He lowered his head, his voice becoming even higher and thinner. "Reporting to Lady Luna, I'm new here, in charge of sweeping the backyard..."

"Why is the person sweeping the backyard running to the front?"

Luna waved her hand impatiently.

"Go back, go back, don't get in the way."

"Yes, yes." His Scar felt as if he'd been granted a pardon; he lowered his head and turned to leave.

After taking two steps, he secretly glanced back at Phrolova.

Phrolova was staring menacingly at the back of Luna's head, his eyes looking as if he wanted to devour Luna alive.

Scar withdrew his gaze and quickened his pace.

He had only one thought in his mind: to find Christopher as soon as possible and tell him everything he had seen.

Phrolova betrayed us.

She was dressed as a maid from Montelli, being bossed around by a blond girl, and she didn't even fight back.

If word got out, my colleagues in the Fractsidus would laugh their heads off.

But what terrified Scar even more was something else.

That girl named Luna actually managed to boss Phrolova around and had her completely under her thumb.

What magic does this manor hold?

Scar reached the corner and was about to speed away, he bumped into someone.

He looked down and saw a short female maidservant looking up at him with her round eyes.

"Which department are you from? How come you're so tall?" the short maid asked, staring at her head.

"Sweeping the backyard," the Scar managed to squeeze out.

"Sweeping the backyard?" The short maid frowned. "I know the woman who sweeps the backyard; she quit her job last month and went back to her hometown. Who are you?"

Cold sweat instantly broke out on the Scar.

He kept his head down, his mind racing, and the voice he managed to squeeze out was even softer. "I... I'm new here. After she left, the supervisor asked me to cover her shift. You probably haven't seen me before."

The short maid tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over him twice.

She felt something was off. This person was ridiculously tall, and although his face was lowered, she could vaguely see some sharp angles, which was far removed from the soft lines of an ordinary maid.

"New here?" She took a step closer. "What's your name? And your employee ID?"

He cursed inwardly, his Scar a testament to his suffering.

Employee badge? Where did he get an employee badge?

Christopher had only prepared this outfit and a mouth for him.

He forced himself to continue making things up, "I left my employee ID in the backyard, I'll go back and get it now."

He had just turned to leave when the short maid called out from behind, "Wait!"

The Scar froze.

"Since you're in charge of sweeping the backyard, why don't you sweep up the fallen leaves at the end of the corridor first?" The short maid gestured towards the end of the corridor, where a layer of fallen leaves, mixed with dirt and petals, had been blown in from the courtyard that morning, creating a mess.

The expression on his face, Scar, cracked.

Sweeping fallen leaves? He, a mere member of the Fractsidus, comes to Montelli to sweep fallen leaves?

He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking.

But another voice in my head was screaming, "Don't be impulsive! Impulsiveness will expose us, and if we're exposed, the whole plan will be ruined!"

He took a deep breath, pulled a broom and dustpan from the cleaning cabinet in the corner, squatted down, and began to sweep.

He was squatting with great difficulty; the hem of his maid outfit was caught on his thighs, and his white over-the-knee stockings were stretched taut.

He held the broom handle in one hand and had to hold down his skirt with the other to prevent it from exposing him, looking as awkward as a gorilla dressed in clothes.

The short maid stood beside him, glancing at him every now and then.

He was covered in sweat from the Scar, and his throat was filled with barely audible breaths.

He was halfway through sweeping when several maids carrying trays walked over from the other end of the corridor. Seeing his appearance, they glanced at him curiously.

"Qishi, who is this? How come he's so tall?" one of the maids asked.

"The new cleaning maid is supposed to be filling in." The short maid didn't even look up.

"Oh." The maids glanced at the Scar again and left.

The Scar breathed a sigh of relief.

But before they could even catch their breath, two more Pleiades members arrived: Karenina and Jietawi.

The two women stood ramrod straight, their eyes sharp; Luna had specifically instructed them to be wary of suspicious individuals.

They stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at the Scar for several seconds.

"Which department are you from?" Karenina asked.

"Sweeping the backyard." The Scar's voice became even thinner.

"Why are the people sweeping the backyard in the front yard? Didn't Miss say that everyone should gather near the ceremonial hall today?" Jietawi took a step closer, her gaze sweeping from his face to his feet and back again.

His palms, covered in sweat, were covered in Scar.

His fingers tightened around the broom, his mind racing as he considered whether to start working now or continue weaving.

Just as he was about to break down, Luna's voice came from the other end of the corridor.

"Karenina, Jietawi, what are you dawdling about? We're short-staffed in the auditorium, hurry up and go."

"Yes," the two replied, glancing one last time at the Scar, before quickly leaving.

Scar slumped to the ground, the broom slipping from his hand.

He looked down at the fallen leaves covering the ground, then at his maid outfit, and suddenly realized that Christopher had made a huge mistake by assigning him this job.

He was supposed to be creating chaos from the shadows, but instead, he's squatting in the corridors of Montelli sweeping fallen leaves, being bossed around, and even having to put on a woman's voice.

He had just stood up, leaning against the wall, when another voice sounded behind him.

"Are you done sweeping? If you are, move this basket of flowers to the ceremonial hall too." Qishi took a wicker basket full of flowers from somewhere and stuffed it into his arms.

The Scar man looked down at the basket, then at himself.

He really wanted to kill the little dwarf, but in the end he just hugged the basket tighter and squeezed out through gritted teeth, "... Okay."

He carried the basket of flowers toward the hall, with Qishi following behind him. As they passed a mirror, he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

She was over 1.8 meters tall, wearing a tight maid outfit, carrying a basket of flowers, and her face was still covered in dust from sweeping fallen leaves.

He had never felt so stifled in all his years of life.

Christopher.

He gritted his teeth and muttered that name in his heart.

"You better pray your script is a success. Otherwise, I'll go back and tear that lousy book of yours to shreds and use it as toilet paper."