Lunch was, once again, handled by Betty.

  Pandora, meanwhile, gathered Aurora and the newly arrived boys and girls to briefly arrange the next steps.

  Finally, her gaze fell on the little kitchen maid, who was walking over with a platter of freshly baked bread, her forehead beaded with sweat.

  “Betty.”

  “Ah? M-My Lady! I’m here!”

  Being called out so suddenly, Betty jumped, her hand trembling and nearly dropping the platter.

  Seeing her panicked expression, Pandora couldn’t help but smile.

  “From today onward, you will be temporarily in charge of the manor’s internal affairs.”

  “What?!”

  Betty’s round eyes went wide, her small mouth forming an “O.” She waved her hands frantically, her face as bitter as if she’d just chewed on a raw quinine.

  “No no no! My Lady! I can’t! I… I only know how to cook! I’m no good at anything else! I…”

  “You can do it.”

  Pandora interrupted her, her tone leaving no room for argument, but her eyes were encouraging. “You need the practice.”

  In reality, Pandora’s reasoning was very practical. Aurora, Ham, and Lucien were her high-end combatants. She couldn’t waste them on internal affairs. As for Elsa… in terms of talent, she was the most suitable candidate. She had been the manor’s head handmaiden before. But her strength was even greater than the three knights combined, and she needed to remain by Pandora’s side, so she absolutely couldn’t be wasted on such trivial matters.

  So, until a more suitable candidate was found, the position of “steward” would have to be a “training exercise” for Betty.

  Seeing Betty’s face, which looked like she was about to cry, Pandora waved her hand and said with a smile, “Don’t worry, go back to cooking for now. The internal affairs can wait.”

  Betty, as if granted a reprieve, nodded quickly and fled back to the kitchen as if her life depended on it.

  But she could escape for a moment, not for a lifetime.

  Pandora watched her retreating back, a hint of a smile in her eyes.

  ………………

  Dusk.

  A golden-red halo, slanting through the massive floor-to-ceiling window of Pandora’s bedroom—wiped spotless by Elsa—spilled into the room.

  In the air, the water vapor was misty, the hazy fog dyeing the entire room in a soft, warm tone.

  Pandora was, at this moment, lazily soaking in a huge, white porcelain bathtub large enough for three or four people.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The warm water enveloped her slender body.

  Dried rose and lavender flowers, nourished by the hot water, slowly unfurled, releasing a calming fragrance that soothed the soul.

  This fragrance, mixed with Pandora’s own faint, unique scent of a young girl, was washing away, bit by bit, from her body, from her soul, the exhaustion, the blood, the killing that had accumulated over the past two days… soaking it all away, cleansing it completely.

  While Calfskin Village had had rudimentary washing facilities, how could it possibly compare to the manor?

  Here, there was hot spring water drawn from underground, there were essential oils hand-extracted by skilled artisans, and there was everything Elsa had prepared for her.

  This is too comfortable…

  Pandora sighed contentedly, her body soft in the water, feeling like a pat of butter about to melt.

  “Betty looks a bit clueless, but she actually completed her task very well.”

  She leaned against the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, enjoying this rare moment of tranquility as she murmured to herself.

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Elsa, who had been waiting quietly to the side, immediately replied, her voice perfectly level. “She did indeed do very well.”

  In fact, the current task could be considered the first “official” duty Betty had completed since taking over internal affairs—preparing everything for Pandora’s bath and change of clothes. To be able to handle something so cumbersome, even under normal circumstances, in the current chaos was truly remarkable. Although, it had involved a great deal of asking Elsa for guidance.

  Pandora smiled, opened her eyes, and looked at Elsa.

  “By the way, the hot water Betty prepared should be enough for one more person.”

  She said, “Elsa, you should take a bath later. It’s been a long journey; it must be uncomfortable.”

  “As you command, My Lady.”

  Elsa gave a slight bow, answering calmly, then added, “However, my body’s construction, including my clothing, is different from that of a normal person. I do not actually require cleaning.”

  “I know.”

  Pandora waved a hand, signaling that she needn’t say more. “But I mean that you need to relax, too.”

  She looked at Elsa, her gaze serious. “Consider it a request from me. Relax properly, add some rose essential oil, and learn… to enjoy life a little.”

  She paused, the corner of her mouth curling into a smile that was both languid and incredibly firm:

  “We’re not working this hard just to suffer.”

  Elsa looked at Pandora’s profile, which appeared exceptionally gentle in the twilight, at the unquestionable seriousness in her eyes, and fell silent for a moment.

  Finally, she gave a slight bow.

  “As you wish, My Lady.”

  During this rare moment, her bones felt as if they were about to soften in the warmth.

  Knock, knock.

  But just then, the bedroom door was knocked on gently.

  It was Betty’s voice, with a hint of caution: “My Lady, are… are you resting? The herb girl… she said she has something very important to report to you.”

  Pandora slowly opened her eyes.

  The air was misty, and her gaze held a trace of languor from her recent relaxation, but hearing the words “something very important,” that languor quickly faded, replaced by clarity and focus.

  “Let her in.”

  Hearing this, Elsa immediately turned, picked up a clean, thick linen cloth from nearby, and skillfully held it in front of the tub. It didn’t obstruct Pandora’s view but preserved the modesty befitting a noble lady. For a normal medieval noble, being naked in front of a personal servant was a daily occurrence, but Pandora wasn’t truly from that era. Besides Elsa, she was still not quite used to being seen by others.

  The door was pushed open gently.

  Betty led the plainly dressed herb girl inside.

  The girl’s head was bowed low, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her dress, appearing ill at ease.

  “What is it?” Pandora’s voice came from behind the mist, calm.

  “My Lady,” Betty spoke for her, “she said… she thinks she might know something about the disappearing zombies.”

  Pandora’s gaze sharpened instantly.

  “Betty, you can go out now.” she instructed. “Elsa, pour a glass of warm water for this…”

  She paused, realizing she didn’t know her name.

  “Lena, My Lady.” Elsa supplied timely.

  “For Miss Lena.”

  Betty acknowledged and retreated. Elsa, with an elegant motion, poured a glass of warm water and presented it to Lena.

  Lena took it, flattered, but didn’t drink. She just held it in her hands, as if it could give her some warmth and courage.