The Opposite of Indifference - Chapter 1

Part 1. Five

Beyond the massive drawbridge stood the royal palace, its spires piercing the sky. If one ventured past the lavish stonework of the palace, at its most secluded corner lay the maids’ quarters.

“Hey, Millicent!”

She was wandering in a half-dreaming state when someone shook her shoulder.

“Wake up!”

In the end, the annoying insistence forced Millicent to open her eyes. It seemed she was about to start the day marking exactly fifteen days since she had been employed as a palace maid.

“…It’s still night.”

But outside the window, the sky was a deep violet, studded with twinkling moons and stars.

“The sun is just rising late; it’s dawn.”

“Then I’ll sleep until it rises properly.”

The one waking her was an old maid named Tracy, who, to be honest, was easy to handle. So, Millicent hugged the blanket tighter and curled up again.

“Get up! You need to go to the castle gate and fetch the meat from the hunter.”

Tracy yanked the blanket away altogether.

“Will the meat turn into weeds if we take it later in the day?” Millicent grumbled, rubbing her eyes sluggishly.

“We need to get it freshly caught at dawn for it to be fresh!” Tracy snapped.

“It’s for the banquet. A grand feast to celebrate His Majesty’s victory,” she added.

The king, who had been away at war, had returned a few days ago with news of triumph. It was good that he had won and returned, but the problem was the victory celebration. The scale of the event was so massive that the palace maids were being worked to the bone, day and night.

“Just go to the castle gate.”

Without warning, Tracy handed her a small pouch of gold coins.

“Use this to pay. Make sure to get a receipt signed. And don’t forget to bring the cart!”

Half-asleep, Millicent only processed the most immediate words and sluggishly moved. First, she took off her nightgown and nightcap, washed her face with cold water, then put on a relatively clean linen shirt and a gray-brown skirt.

“…The most important thing is the hat.”

The stiffly starched white bonnet, boiled together with potato skins for extra stiffness, was waiting for her obediently.

Millicent put it on as if performing a sacred ritual and tied the strings beneath her chin. She checked her reflection in the mirror. The white bonnet, resembling the ones worn by children, draped fabric over both sides of her face, extending down to her shoulders.

Her messy black hair, large bright blue eyes, and expressionless face were all neatly concealed.

“Perfect as always, Mr. Mullery.”

Murmuring to herself, she tied the chin strap even tighter. Then, bracing against the early morning breeze just before sunrise, she stepped out of the maids’ quarters.

But then she realized she wasn’t exactly sure where at the castle gate she was supposed to go. Going back to ask was a hassle. She didn’t particularly feel like putting too much effort into her maid duties.

At this rate, even she was beginning to confuse whether she was an assassin or a maid.

In the end, Millicent decided to just wander around and look for someone who resembled a hunter.

It was a foolish plan, but surprisingly, it worked out well.

In the distance, she spotted a man. He had a quiver slung over his shoulder, a hat in one hand, and a bow in the other. A large, well-bred black horse stood obediently beside him. At his feet lay two freshly caught deer.

Undoubtedly a hunter.

“Good morning, Mr. Hunter.”

It was far from a good morning, but Millicent greeted him anyway.

“…What?”

The man, rather than responding, furrowed his brow in irritation. That made Millicent stare at his face more intently, despite having no real interest in it.

He was extremely handsome.

It was a surprising discovery. Until now, she had never found any man particularly striking.

But this man was truly remarkable.

His forehead was smooth beneath neatly combed black hair. His light gray eyes, tinged faintly with blue, his straight nose, and full lips were all sharply defined against his sun-kissed face.

His physique was just as striking. He was tall—about the height of a palace door. His broad shoulders beneath his cloak and the trim waist beneath his doublet formed a perfect inverted triangle.

From his thighs down to his calves, covered by riding boots, the lines of his legs stretched long and lean. And his entire frame was well-balanced with muscle.

Moreover, his face seemed strangely familiar.

“I said, good morning.”

But Millicent quickly lost interest. She would much rather drool over the thought of biting into the hard black bread she would have for breakfast.

“I wasn’t speaking a foreign language, was I?”

The man’s furrowed brows relaxed.

“You’re right. My apologies for my rudeness. Good morning, beautiful lady.”

Belatedly, he displayed proper manners.

He drew the hat in his hand to his chest and bowed respectfully. Even just by glancing at her attire, he must have known Millicent wasn’t a lady of noble birth.

Such a refined reception wasn’t something she got every day.

“Seems like you’re not having the best morning either?”

Millicent, simple as she was, found her mood improving.

“It was dark until now, but the moment I met you, it feels as if the sun has finally risen.”

For a mere hunter, he spoke just like a knight who frequented the royal court. He used the typical courtly manner of speech with ease, the kind laden with honeyed praises for noblewomen.

Upon closer inspection, even the clothes he wore were quite luxurious. The light brown doublet he had on was made of suede leather, and his cloak was trimmed with soft sable fur.

“Hunters must make good money these days?” Millicent remarked in admiration, gesturing toward his clothes.

“Ah, something like that,” responded the man, amused.

“I’m envious. Maybe I should quit being a maid and take up hunting instead.”

“Are you a maid of the royal palace?” he asked meaningfully. “I’ve never seen your face before.”

“Wasn’t it usually another maid who came to collect the goods? I haven’t been in the palace for long,” Millicent replied indifferently.

“Though it already feels like I’ve been working for twenty years,” she added.

“Why is that?”

“I was polishing silverware until late last night, even in my dreams, and I have to do it again today.”

Sighing, Millicent continued, “We’re all busy preparing for the banquet celebrating His Majesty’s victory.”

“I suppose so.”

The man suddenly smiled in an inexplicable way.

“Have you ever seen the king before?”

“No.” Millicent shrugged.

“Really?” asked the man softly. “Think carefully. You might have seen him somewhere.”

It wasn’t even something worth thinking about.

“He was too busy waging war outside, wasn’t he?” Millicent shook her head. “And how would a mere maid ever meet His Majesty?”

“What’s wrong with being a maid?”

She glanced at him, wondering if he was joking, but his expression was serious.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? A maid is less than a marble statue or a painting in the palace. At least those have value.”

As far as Millicent knew, that was the truth.

“His Majesty the King will surely enjoy the pheasant meat and bread laid out on the banquet table. But he won’t spare a glance for the maid who turns the grill to roast the meat to a golden brown or slices the bread.”

“Well.” The man spoke in a peculiar tone, “Could he really overlook someone as interesting as you?”

For a moment, an unfamiliar emotion flickered in his eyes.

Millicent didn’t know what it was, but it unsettled her. It felt as though she were a defenseless deer being watched by a hunter.

She had always thought of herself as the hunter, never the prey.

She didn’t like it. She had indulged in enough polite conversation.

“I should collect the goods now.”

Millicent awkwardly changed the subject.

“Let me see the deer.”

She crouched down to inspect the dead animals lying at the hunter’s feet.

“They’re fresh, right?”

Though she had no clue how to judge meat, Millicent asked anyway. She had been told to check, so she at least pretended to.

“Well, I did just bring them from the forest.”

Judging by his response, it seemed the man was just as clueless about selling as she was about inspecting meat.

“If you want them any fresher, you’d have to take them alive.”

Millicent nodded vaguely. It wasn’t like she was going to eat them herself, and it wasn’t her money paying for them either.

“If that’s the case, then that’s that.”

She handed him the small pouch of coins Tracy had given her earlier. The hunter hesitated instead of taking it right away.

“Hmm, this might put you in a difficult position…”

“What are you doing? I’m hungry and want to leave quickly.”

It was strange that he hesitated even when being handed money. She grabbed his hand and shoved the pouch into it.

“Your hand…”

As she did, Millicent paused.

It was a very masculine hand. Large and long. The veins on the back of it stood out, and his palm was rough, as if it had wielded swords and spears.

“What about my hand?”

“It feels familiar. Like I’ve held it somewhere before…”

Millicent tilted her head.

“Where would you have held my hand?”

The man asked, intrigued.

“Go on, think carefully. When was it?”

Their eyes met. His were gray, with a faint glimmer of blue.

“Never mind. I must be saying nonsense because I haven’t eaten.”

Millicent quickly dismissed the odd feeling with a simple conclusion.

“I usually eat bread first thing after waking up. But today, Tracy kept nagging me, so I had to find the hunter first. People need food to think properly, seriously…”

She grumbled, but an inexplicable unease settled in her chest.

“Now that I think about it, wasn’t there something else Tracy told me to fetch?”

She tilted her head, but nothing came to mind.

“Ah, whatever.”

She quickly gave up trying to remember something that wouldn’t come to her anyway.

“Time to load the deer.”

“Wait, they’re heavy. I can—”

“Oh, move aside. You’re in the way.”

The deer weren’t unbearably heavy, but they weren’t something she could just sling over her shoulder either. Yet, making the hunter’s concern seem pointless, Millicent efficiently loaded the deer onto the cart one by one.

“Done.”

She absentmindedly tapped the hunter’s outstretched, now awkwardly retracted, hand.

“…You really are a peculiar young lady.”

The hunter chuckled. His smile was as if he found it baffling that such a person could exist in this world.

“Would it be alright if I asked for your name?”

At last, he inquired.