Pandora didn't realize that in her low-SAN state, that self-destructive thought of hers was much, much stronger than usual.

  At that moment, Elsa, who had been standing quietly to the side, sensed her aura, which had fallen to an extreme low point. She sensed even more that deep exhaustion originating from her soul.

  “My lady…” Elsa said softly, “You… are very tired.”

  She stated it as a fact, not a question.

  “Do you… need Elsa to prepare dinner for you? Or should we say… draw a bath for bed?”

  Pandora thought for a moment, her gaze drifting to the large bed behind her—it had never seemed so tempting… “I can’t even lift a finger. Just let me sleep. I’m so sleepy~”

  “That will not do, my lady,” Elsa’s tone was as smooth as ever, pointing out Pandora’s current problem without the slightest hesitation. “A gentle lady should not go to sleep covered in dirt. But to relieve my lady’s worries is a maid’s mission… So, please permit your maid, Elsa, to wash you.”

  To have her personal maid help her bathe?

  Although only seven days had passed, it felt as if a lifetime had gone by. It seemed… she hadn’t done this in a very long time.

  A sigh rose in Pandora’s heart.

  In the end, she nodded.

  Elsa immediately bowed. In those bright eyes, which seemed to hold no impurity, a peculiar light flickered.

  “As you command, my lady.”

  “Elsa will wash you until you are spotless, without leaving a single speck of dirt!” she promised solemnly.

  Pandora suddenly thought of something, her face flushing for some unknown reason.

  “Uh, that’s not… that necessary, is it?” she muttered in a small voice.

  But under Elsa’s incomparably firm, and “righteous” gaze, Pandora was defeated in the end.

  She thought, Elsa’s heart was simple, it was pure. She couldn’t… use her own “dirty” and adult mind to misinterpret Elsa’s intentions.

  However, she failed to see that, as she turned around, preparing to walk toward the bathroom, beneath Elsa’s calm and waveless gaze, her hands, hidden behind her back, were already clenched and unclenched with frantic energy. They revealed a restiveness, an agitated excitement that was a stark contrast to her perfect maid’s posture!

  ………………

  At sunset, as twilight faded.

  The sun, in its final death throes as it sank below the horizon, was cut by the continuous treetops into fractured specks of light, casting a dim, flickering illumination into the utility room next to the kitchen.

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  At that moment, the room was filled with a steamy haze.

  Because her lady was going to bathe, Betty, the “Little Kitchen Maid,” had begun to boil water the moment she heard.

  And now, after Elsa had adjusted the hot water to the perfect temperature and personally delivered the first bucket to the master bedroom’s bathroom, Betty had used her position’s convenience to naturally use the remaining warm water and the other half of the pot of hot water to wash her own exhausted body.

  She carried the large, wooden basin, originally used for washing dishes, to a corner of the utility room. Then, she carefully mixed in some cold water.

  Slowly, she immersed herself in the hot water.

  Betty felt as if every single pore on her body was sighing in comfort.

  The water’s temperature could naturally not be as perfectly adjusted as Lady Pandora’s with Elsa’s precision control. But this water, slightly hotter than body temperature, with a hint of a hot kick, still made her nerves, tense from days of running about, instantly relax.

  She scooped up a handful of wood ash, rubbing it into a small lather. Then, she began to carefully wash every inch of her skin.

  Although she was busy in the smoky, fiery kitchen every day, her skin, owing to her youth, still maintained the firmness and smoothness of a young girl. It was just that, her skin was not like Lady Pandora’s, that kind of translucently fair, white skin that seemed to have never been touched by the sun. Nor was it like that of Knightess Aurora, who, despite wearing heavy armor all day, still had a shade of white ivory showing from her neck.

  Her skin tone was a healthy, light wheat color, slightly better than a commoner’s. Regarding this, Betty once held a trace of an imperceptible inferiority complex. But she also remembered that during a chat, Lady Pandora had once comforted her, saying this was the healthiest skin color, a manifestation of life force, and that she needn’t feel inferior over it. Those unintentional words had soothed the tiny bumps in her heart born from her status better than any expensive skincare product.

  Having washed away the grime and the invisible fatigue from her body, Betty closed her eyes, gently kneading her own arms, and her lower abdomen, which was a little sore from standing for long periods.

  Her mind began to fantasize.

  She imagined herself arriving in Lady Pandora’s warm, private bedroom.

  Outside the window was the serene night.

  And inside the room, Lady Pandora, was using her hands, which looked so slender yet contained such wondrous power, to gently knead her. Dispelling that day’s worth of weary aches from her muscles.

  Matching the rhythm of the kneading in her imagination, that feeling of relaxation was amplified infinitely.

  She felt as if her very bones were about to melt in this comfortable daydream.

  Unimaginable…

  The fantasy in her mind was so taboo, so blasphemous, and yet, precisely because it was taboo and blasphemous, it was filled with an alluring pleasure like a forbidden fruit.

  And in reality, everything she was imagining was true; it was just that the one being so meticulously served was the real Lady Pandora…

  My lady… she must be so incredibly happy right now!

  A deep envy swelled in Betty’s heart. But the moment she thought it was Lady Pandora, the thought of jealousy couldn’t take root.

  Just then, the corner of Betty’s eye inadvertently caught a glint of light reflecting off something on the shelf.

  She rose from the hot water, and water droplets dripped down her healthy curves, falling back into the basin.

  She reached out her hand and took the small object that still glinted faintly in the dim light. It was a small, frosted glass bottle. Embossed in gold on the bottle was a budding rose.

  Rose Essence!

  A very precious item, normally only worthy of being enjoyed by noble ladies. It was unknown why it had been left here.

  There weren't many joys for a kitchen maid in the manor, and so gossip became one of the few forms of entertainment. Betty remembered it was the former head cook who had already “left” who told her these things.

  She couldn’t recall the specific details very clearly anymore, but allegedly, this Rose Essence had three uses.

  The first was to drink, which could beautify and nourish one's appearance.

  The second was to apply, which could fragrance the skin.

  The first two uses, Betty easily understood.

  But that third use… she had always been at a loss.