Wandering Agent
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Machinist Chapter 27 The World's Greatest
🕑 Added 2024-03-01 02:54:37 +0000 UTCOn my first day at the house in Exion I'd made some inquiries, but the results were less than I'd hoped for. The housekeeper Mrs. Rider thought that I was just trying to get a grip on how things were run and so she'd dutifully run me through all the books. That had ended with me having a very good idea of how the finances were doing, and the expenses in general, but hadn't answered my actual question of how my half-sister was.
“Ah, Mrs. Rider,” I eventually asked. “How are the staff doing though? Particularly the new ones, are they settling in well?”
“I've received no complains my lord, and their work has been exemplary,” she answered.
Did it really surprise me that she didn't think I'd care about Kaylee's personal life? No, not at all, if things were normal I really shouldn't care too terribly much. Even if her family had been serving my family for years so long as there wasn't anything wrong I should wish her well and little else.
“And these numbers, most of the maids are making around six silver crowns a month?” I asked, trying to conceal my tone.
“Oh yes sir, quite the generous remuneration. Your mother has always seen to it that we're well taken care of.” She smiled and nodded, she of course was making considerably more. “That of course is the money side only though. We're all provided with good room and board, and if anyone comes badly ill or is seriously injured a priest is of course called. It's such a weight off the shoulders.”
Six silver was nothing. I was given a gold crown a week for my expenses, or five times that, for a week. I didn't even really have any expenses other than those I wanted.
“Is that normal?” I asked.
“A bit above if anything. Of course there are a few talents on the staff as well, and they make a bit of money on the side selling their services,” she answered, referring to those with minor spell abilities, like our butler and his ability to heal minor injuries.
Even with the minuscule amounts of magic talents had they would easily eclipse six silver a month. Most of those could sell the power they had at a given time for a silver or two, though it would take much of the day to regenerate it.
That of course led to the question of why they would demean themselves for paltry sums, one I'd asked years ago, the answer was two-fold. Firstly, many people didn't have the connections to sell their mana and with the small amounts that a talent might have they might have issues against the local mage monopolies. Secondly, they were betting to win big. It was a known and proven fact that talents who spent time around magic had a higher percentage chance of their talent expanding to something greater, turning them into a full magic user and a true powerhouse of their own.
“Thank you, is there anything else I might need to know about this right now?”
“Not that I can think of my lord, and it is getting a bit late.” She wasn't wrong, as I looked at the clock I could tell it was nearly sunset, a fact that caused my stomach to growl embarrassingly.
“I don't suppose dinner is soon?” I asked, face flushing a bit.
“It should be nearly ready,” she answered with a smile.
That night I was bothered by unanswered questions. I wasn't even sure how to go about getting the answers, or if I should. I'd promised Mrs. Lutte that I'd send her a letter, but if I did so now I wouldn't even know what to put in it. Luckily there were a few days more before I needed to head to the school. Little did I know that with a bit of quietly moving about the house I'd find my answer the very next morning.
Long ago I'd mastered the art of remaining unseen. This had been one of my favorite things to do as a child, and it hadn't yet gotten old. There were tricks to it, and the first was locating everyone around you. With my keen ears it was easy to pick out the sound of shoes on wood or carpet, and with practice I'd learned to separate out the different ones. Men's and women's shoes sounded different, their gaits sounded different, and it sounded even more different depending on how fast they were walking, and how stressed they were.
I used my abilities to constantly avoid being caught in general, and to find certain people specifically. I could pick out most of the older staff from both houses even as they approached, and all of my family of course. Well, so long as they didn't take off their shoes. Between that and the voices I heard I quickly found Kaylee the next morning.
“Stoke the fire, stoke the fires,” she hummed as she built her little pile of kindling in the sitting room.
When she was done she hopped back a bit, thrusting one open hand forward and supporting it with the other. I couldn't see her face from where I stood in the doorway, but the little 'hiyaa' noise she made told me she was deep in concentration.
A small flame, two or three times the size of a candle's fire drifted forward from her palm landing among the wood and quickly setting it ablaze. Her work done the huffed, a bit of sweat having bloomed on her skin and took up something akin to a superhero pose, hands on her hips and legs wide.
“An easy job for the world's greatest maid!” she declared, though not too loudly.
It was... it was... it was the most adorable thing I'd seen in either of my lives. The outfit, the voice, the pure-hearted declaration. I had a full cuteness overload, unable to function or move. My face was even frozen where it was, unable to come up with just the right expression.
Then she turned and saw me, in an instant her hope was gone, replaced by an instantly pale face and terrified countenance. I'd failed to hide myself and now watched as the blood drained from her cheeks and a look of fear overtook her.
“I... was... um, please don't fire me,” she whimpered, eyes lowering to the floor. Technically she probably wasn't supposed to be using fire magic in the house.
I had to school myself, present the proper face, the proper tone. “Why in the world would I fire the world's greatest maid?” I asked with a steady, perfectly calm voice.
There was a quick reversal of the direction of the blood in her face, turning her from white to bright pink in seconds. “You're not going to go to Mrs. Rider?” she asked.
“For what? You're doing a wonderful job. Now, chin up, everything's going to be fine.” I tried to sound as reassuring as possible, for while I'd tried to keep an eye on her over the years she still didn't really know me except for whatever stories she'd heard.
“Truly?” she said, still disbelieving.
“Truly, and if anything ever happens, if it's ever not fine, if you ever don't know what to do and are scared or hurt, come and find me. I'm not your enemy Kaylee, and I never will be.”
“Thank you my lord,” she returned after a few moments thinking and nervously playing with the hem of her apron. “I will.”
“Good, now if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write.” After all, I had my answer now, everything was going to be perfectly well.
