To effect any change, I needed to overturn the current order. The roles reversed, with maids assuming mastery and masters reduced to mere chattel, demanded correction. The sole avenue of reprieve from the maids’ tyranny lay through Blair’s intervention.
However, in my present state, any entreaty to Blair risked being dismissed as the delusions of a distressed sister, afflicted by what would be perceived as mental malaise. None would lend credence to the pleas of a noblewoman seemingly besieged by madness.
The most viable course of action necessitated firsthand exposure to the maids’ transgressions. But how could I orchestrate such a revelation? How might I unveil the true nature of these attendants before Blair, who regarded them solely as dutiful servants?
For nearly a week, I pondered this dilemma, devising strategies to unveil their atrocities and create a pretext for securing Blair’s undivided protection.
“Oppa,” I began, my voice a soft murmur.
“Yes, Odel?” Blair responded, his gaze softening.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Always,” Blair replied without hesitation. He leaned in slightly. My arms snaked around his neck, drawing him closer. With a conspiratorial smile, I whispered my request in his ear.
Blair listened intently, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, okay,” he finally agreed. “Let’s do it.”
***
“Phew, that was a close call,” a maid gasped, heart hammering in her chest.
“Yeah, seriously.” Another shuddered. “To think of him stuck here for a whole month!”
“But why did he leave so suddenly?”
“He mentioned some urgent business and had to leave immediately.”
Blair’s abrupt departure came as a surprise. With him gone, she found herself swiftly expelled from the premises. The annex, once an old warehouse designated for miscellaneous storage, now served as her dismal prison. The door remained bolted, the lock securely fastened.
In Blair’s absence, the maids reverted to their true nature, reveling in their newfound freedom. They celebrated the departure of their unwanted charge with a lavish party, uncorking expensive champagne and indulging in extravagant meat and seafood dishes. Meanwhile, she languished in the annex, subsisting on meager rations of hard bread, pungent cheese, and dried jerky. It became apparent that the funds and provisions allocated for living expenses vanished into their own pockets.
While they caroused, she toiled tirelessly, scrubbing the filthy room and practicing standing and walking alone, enduring countless stumbles and falls that left her bruised and battered. The maids paid no heed to her plight, providing only the bare essentials before locking her away each day.
For a week, she endured this cruel confinement, her clothes stained with filth, the room reeking of decay, infested with vermin and insects. The squalor surpassed even the dire conditions of the stables and huts she once sought refuge in during her days of destitution in the slums.
As she gradually adjusted to the harsh reality of her surroundings, a tumult outside shattered the eerie silence. Desperate cries mingled with frantic voices, drawing nearer with urgent footsteps. Among them, a familiar voice pierced through the chaos.
“Where has the poor child gone?”
“Well, milady stepped out briefly…”
“In this pouring rain, with her delicate condition?”
“Well, you see…”
Blair’s voice, fraught with concern, resonated through the air. His footsteps echoed as he combed through the mansion in search of her. Sensing trouble, he confronted the maids, coercing them to reveal her whereabouts. With a click, the lock on the annex door was undone, and the creaking wood heralded Blair’s arrival.
Odelliana huddled on the floor, meeting Blair’s gaze as he beheld her pitiful state with a mix of disbelief and dismay. His voice trembled as he uttered, “…What has happened here?”
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