I Think My Husband Might Be a Murderer - Chapter 9

“Pardon?”

This was troubling. Did working for a ducal household require knowledge of upper-class etiquette?

Trying to hide my nervousness, I answered calmly, “No. I’ve never had any such training.”

Sir Fret frowned and stared at me for a while. It seemed like learning noble etiquette really was part of the job.

I braced myself and waited for him to speak. But the answer I got was unexpected.

“I just assumed you had.”

“Pardon? What do you mean by that…”

I blinked at him in confusion. Sir Fret held out the contract bearing the ducal seal and said, “Your posture, your way of speaking, your everyday manners—where did you learn them?”

At the time, I had no idea why he was asking such things, so I took the contract and answered casually, “My father taught me.”

Sir Fret’s brow furrowed further.

So even that kind expression could turn sharp. As I was marveling at that change, he asked another question.

“Was your father affiliated with high society in some way?”

“No, not at all.”

I shook my head slightly.

He actually avoided noble circles as much as he could.

Digging through my fading memories, I added, “Oh, when I was little, there was a noble lady who visited a few times. But that’s it. My father was just an ordinary man. Why do you ask?”

“Because you demonstrate noble etiquette with uncanny perfection.”

“Yes…?”

I tried for a while to grasp what he meant, then ended up laughing and waving it off.

“There’s no way. I’ve never even brushed hands with a noble.”

Well, recently I’ve run into your master several times, though. I added with a bit of playfulness.

“Is that so…”

Sir Fret tilted his head and went on.

“Who knows. Your father might’ve known upper-class etiquette after all.”

“That’s possible.”

To Sir Fret, who seemed thoroughly puzzled, I offered a vague agreement. He softened immediately.

“Perhaps it’s just my limited experience that led me to think that.”

In any case, since you’ve said no, I won’t ask further. Sir Fret smiled gently as he saw me off.

Crossing a courtyard surrounded by various buildings, we finally reached the main gate.

This place really is absurdly big.

I took one last look at the castle that wouldn’t fit in a single view and sighed inwardly.

“So there’s no reason to go to any other annexes? It’s nothing special, I was just wondering since you didn’t give me a tour of them.”

Sir Fret stared at me for a moment, so I quickly added as if to excuse myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

Thankfully, he answered soon enough.

“You can access most places. But unless specifically instructed, it’s best not to enter areas outside the main building.”

“All right. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir Fret. Thank you for today.”

Just as I was about to leave through the gate—

“One moment.”

Sir Fret called me back.

“You seem like a perceptive person, so I trust you’ll honor what I asked. However…”

His tone remained gentle as always, yet it carried a strange chill.

“Under no circumstances are you to set foot in the basement of the west annex.”

It sounded like a warning.

***

It had already been a week since I started working at House Schultz.

Whatever excitement came with a first day had long since worn off.

“Sigh…”

I sat at my desk, sighing repeatedly, staring out at the patchy lawn. The servants of House Schultz bustled across it.

‘I should’ve asked for physical work instead.’

That would’ve been much more bearable than this.

But when the Duke offered me the job, I’d been too overwhelmed to make any requests. And I wasn’t bold enough to demand anything either.

All I had in mind was to do the job I’d been given to the best of my ability.

‘I really didn’t expect it to be only sorting documents…’

I glared at the stack of papers I had finished a while ago.

When the neatly piled documents at the corner of the desk fluttered in the breeze leaking through the window, I felt like they were mocking me.

In other words, I was bored to death.

My work at the ducal estate was minimal.

Sitting in the office assigned to me, I simply sorted documents by date. Just as Sir Fret had explained, it wasn’t hard at all.

Compared to all the paperwork I had to organize while studying pharmacy, this was nothing.

But because of that, the other servants hated me.

On my first day, I had been drinking tea by the window when I locked eyes with one of them.

“Miss Prim looks just like a noble lady.”

In other words, I had it too easy. That it wasn’t proper for someone of servant status.

And not just that.

“She even has her own private office.”

I was the only one assigned a private office. That fact alone left me flustered.

I, too, felt embarrassed to be receiving such a large salary for so little work, so I had tried several times to help the other servants.

But every time, the response was always the same:

“Oh no, Miss Prim. We couldn’t possibly impose such tasks on you. Not at all.”

The words were sharp, but the attitude was polite to a fault. At first, I couldn’t even tell if they meant it sincerely.

It wasn’t long before I realized they had completely excluded me from their group.

“Someone like me couldn’t possibly eat with Miss Prim. Please, go ahead.”

Naturally, they didn’t include me during meals or breaks.

I didn’t expect a tight-knit bond like those who shared the same quarters, but I had hoped for at least a bit of friendliness.

Father gave me love and kindness, but never permitted close relationships with anyone.

“Ha…”

Watching the servants playfully carry laundry baskets woven from reeds, my expression hardened.

Their faces turned cold the moment they noticed me.

I got up and drew the curtain. The fabric felt unusually rough against my fingertips.

Their actions couldn’t be called bullying. If I were them, I might have felt the same way.

They probably found it unfair.

Doing such different amounts of work while getting the same pay must have left a bad taste.

On top of that, Sir Fret continued to treat me with excessive politeness…

I had asked several times for him to speak more casually, but he always responded the same way:

“I’m used to it. This is more comfortable for me.”

He always said it with that smiling face, and it never felt like I could press him further—so I gave up.

In this situation, there was only one way I could work here with peace of mind.

I let go of the curtain.

I wasn’t sure if a mere servant could request an audience with the master, but I felt it was time to speak with the Duke.

***

It wasn’t hard to meet with the Duke. Sir Fret gladly offered to arrange it when I asked.

As I walked down the long corridor and opened the door, the bitter scent of the cigarette I remembered from my father’s funeral hit my nose.

Tapestries hung between the arched carvings on the walls.

“So I hear you wanted to see me. Is there a problem?”

A soft voice flowed from behind the ashwood desk in the center.

I stared at the man who looked up from his folded newspaper.

The Duke’s expression, which I hadn’t seen in a while, felt sharper than I remembered.

Maybe because he had helped me before. He hadn’t seemed this cold back then.

There was a rigidness typical of Dochilia’s navy, a sense of detachment with a touch of ennui—it somehow made him more captivating.

So I couldn’t help but respond more stiffly than before. It made sense to show extra formality now that he was my employer.

The Duke slowly straightened his posture from the office chair.

“I’ve heard from Fret that you’re doing well.”

His eyes met mine, and I felt my palms grow damp with sweat. I straightened my back and replied, trying not to show my nerves.

“The problem is that there isn’t enough work.”

“Is that a problem?” His brow furrowed slightly.

I nodded. “The amount of work I’m doing doesn’t match the salary I receive. I feel obligated to do more. That’s the issue.”

A small crack appeared in his composed expression. His brow rose.

“Obligated?”

He rolled the word around his tongue as if testing it. I felt slightly overwhelmed but continued.

“I was hired as a servant, wasn’t I? Honestly, it’s uncomfortable. The other servants look at me strangely.”

“……”

“To be honest, I keep wondering, ‘What are they going to say about me today?’ Those thoughts keep filling my head. Even when I go home, I can’t relax.”

It was true.

There were countless times I’d had indigestion from the stress of eating meals while dreading their glances. And it had only been a week.

I let out a quiet sigh.

“Surely the Duke of Musen isn’t burdening himself with such kindness to ease my sadness?”

I added without even noticing how his expression was changing.

“Besides, Sir Fret treats me like I’m his superior. It makes me very uncomfortable.”

A soft scoff escaped his lips, stopping me from saying anything more.

Only then did I look at the Duke. He was resting his chin diagonally on his interlaced fingers.

His blue eyes wandered from the embroidery on my dark green dress to the charcoal-gray silk stockings, and then to the tips of my polished shoes.

His tightly closed lips parted.