My name is Jace Miller. The ‘black maid’ of the Everest Household.

I have been at the service of the family for almost 15 years, and during that time, I was always kept away from the scrutinising eyes due to my appearance: black hair and golden eyes.

These traits were after all, a heritage of Scorn, which I, myself, inherited through my ancestor from the goddess of discord and hate herself, Scorn.

The duchy of Salland, and by connection the county of Oblon, was dominated by Meiriem kins whose colourful appearances contrasted strongly with mine, and made me quite noticeable.

My kind was especially despised by the Meiriem believer as there was a common misconception that Scorn directly opposed Meiriem’s teachings. Which although wasn’t completely wrong, was not true either. As far as religious dogma goes, the teachings had quite a few overlaps.

It is also true that heritage does not define worship. The Everest dynasty, for example, is quite strongly mixed between Meiriem and Seeir, the goddess of law, yet only worshipped Meiriem.

Nevertheless, it was typical for worshippers to despise the kin of gods of opposite mentalities.

So, one might wonder why I was allowed to work here at all.

The answer is simple: blackmail.

My last name may be Miller, but that is not the name of my father. My father is Davon Fauger, Duke of Norland and father of Merilia Fauger, now known as Lady Everrest, Marchioness of Oblon, Mistress of this household and my half-sister.

My father was not very fond of the old duchess and took my mother as a mistress over 30 years ago. When the duchess died 8 years later, I had already been conceived. My existence was hidden for political reasons until I reached the age of 13. My mother used her newly found leverage to find me a comfortable place working at my sister’s mansion.

She had known nothing of my existence when I came to the estate, sealed letter in hand. Under normal circumstances, this blackmail would not have been very effective. Bastard childrens were not uncommon and as they were now married, the outrage could be swept under the pretense of a ‘precocious consumption’ of the union. Therein lies the importance of my Scornkin heritage.

Her marriage into the Everest family had been made under the pretense of keeping the Meiriem and Seeir Heritage pure in the family’s dynasty, but the Scorn heritage did not come from my mother, but from our father. My mother had near pure Seeir heritage, if anyone was to learn of my existence, it would not take long to connect the dots together. My sister’s life would be ruined and the Everest household would fall apart. My sister had no choice but to bend to my mother’s request.

And so, my life at the estate began. Despite being generally disliked by the staff, I lived comfortably. I had my own room within the residence and worked only a few hours a day before being sent on ‘errands’ to keep up appearances that I actually did work for the household.

I was aware of my nephew and nieces. I had watched them all grow from a distance, but had kept my distances so as to not create any suspicion.

That is, until Silika suffered her accident.

Up until then, Silika had always been considered the problem child of the family and a loose canon. She ran around causing trouble all over the estate and had a rude mouth.

The day she fell from that tree, no one knew if she was going to make it. She was in a coma for nearly a month. Both her legs had broken when she hit the ground and a large gash had been visible on the back of her head. The marquis had brought the best healers in the duchy, which the Orthodox Meiriem Church was more than happy to provide in exchange for more tithe and more consistent appearances at the church.

The Orthodox were an odd bunch. Despite following the teaching of the gods of love, who normally preached acceptance and care, the Orthodox were known for following strict and harsh doctrines in order to properly ‘worship the gods’. Most annoyingly to me personally, an obligatory vegetarian diet which never ceased to irritate me. Despite their ways, they had become an especially powerful religion in the south-west of the kingdom, especially here in the duchy of Salland.

When the lady finally awoke, the situation on the estate went from grim to explosive. That night, dreadful screams of a dying beast were heard all throughout the estate. By the time someone had realised it came from Silika’s room, she had already collapsed at the side of her bed in a pool of her own bile.

When she woke up again days later, the priests had been present and were able to establish a diagnosis.

They determined that the fall had rendered the lady ‘simple’. She could no longer walk, her sentences were indecipherable babblings and she did not listen to what anyone told her. She was constantly grunting. For an entire day, she made only wheezing noises with her mouth and nothing anyone did could make her stop. I heard rumors that a guard resigned from his post after a day where she was constantly singing unrecognisable versions of children's songs.

In time, the entirety of the estate, including her own family, found dealing with the young lady unbearable. By then they would seldom visit her, only out of a feeling of obligation.

I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps it was some strange motherly instinct or sense of obligation toward my niece, but I volunteered to become her personal carer. I believe what I felt was not a sense of pity, instead, it was a sense of camaraderie. I may not have suffered the same kind of debilitating handicap, but I could relate all too well with being shunned by my own family. To me she was not a strange and annoying child, but instead a confused and frightened girl.

Despite being diagnosed as simple, I disagreed with this prognosis. It is true that the lady only spoke in babblings and grunts, but there was a structure. I realised that the day she gave me a nickname. It was barely a word, more like an obscure gurgling.

“Gledi!”

Every time she said that word, she looked at me expectantly, and so I responded to the sound as if it was the most natural thing to do.

I was wrapping my head on the nature of her condition. She reacted to seeing me speak, but did not react to me calling out to her when she was looking away. She would get scared or surprised when someone would appear from somewhere she did not expect, but would not even flinch to something being dropped behind her.

I was not the only one to have had this realisation.

The youngest child of the household came occasionally to play checkers with his sister. Seeing how terrible she was and how often she had a tendency to just knock the board over or fall asleep during the game, one might have thought that she was indeed dumb, but her movement felt too genuine, and too sincere. She knew how to play or how to win, she just couldn’t do it.

After one such session, when the lady had fallen asleep and he was packing the board, he turned to me.

“You know. They say Silika is stupid, but I think they’re stupid for saying that.”

I stopped and looked at him.

“Why do you say so, young master?”

“She can play checkers. Dumb people can’t play checkers. I know because I was dumb before and I couldn’t play.”

His logic was simplistic, but it wasn’t wrong.

“Maybe she just remembers, the same way she remembers how to chew her food or drink water.”

He thought for a second, but shook his head.

“No, that’s not right. She’s not dumb. I know for sure. She just can’t talk… Or maybe she can’t hear.”

I gritted my teeth. I kneeled beside the bed and looked at the young boy.

“Young lord… Don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why? Wouldn’t everyone be happy to know that she’s not dumb?”

I chose my words carefully.

“They would… But the implications… What it will mean will be much worse for Silika. She will be punished very very very badly.”

He thought about it for a second, but was still puzzled about the meaning behind my words.

“Why?”

“If you don’t tell anyone, I will tell you… Eventually… But not today, it’s too soon for you to know about that.”

He seemed unsatisfied with my answer but nodded.

“I will trust you, but if you’re lying you will be in big trouble.”
“Thank you young lord.”

The young lord left. He completely stopped coming to play after that day.

It’s probably for the best that he did.

Waurpel

Thank you for reading this chapter of My Quiet Life!

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