Chapter 14: Battle! (Close-Up of the Hands)
“The literal aning.”
“……” Eve opened her mouth, then hesitated. That did not seem right.
Sylvia was amused by her reaction and could not help but laugh softly before adding, “That being said, you do not need to worry too much.”
“Although the Young Miss has never ntioned it, it is better to be ntally prepared just in case. Otherwise, if it really happens, what would you do while standing there helplessly?”
What would she do? Simply comply?
Eve hesitated, choosing not to ask aloud. Calmly, she set down the notebook and sat upright, watching the Head Maid stand and busy herself with the tea set.
It seed… she was not particularly sensitive about such matters?
“Back to the main topic. Most things you will understand gradually in the future. Now let us learn the most important one.”
Sylvia arranged the tea utensils neatly and brought out the tea leaves she had prepared in advance. “Tea ceremony. This is not rely etiquette for receiving guests—it is also an important way to understand the Young Miss’s habits and mood.”
She began explaining while demonstrating, “The Young Miss especially prefers black tea, usually a specialty from tea estates in Victoria. The water temperature must be precisely controlled, and preheating the teapot and teacups is also essential.”
“Rember the amount of tea leaves; it is written in the notes. Also, add a little extra—the Young Miss likes sweetness, so a small amount of syrup is added to the black tea.”
Her movents flowed smoothly, every step carrying a ritualistic elegance. In the end, she pushed a cup of clear, fragrant black tea toward Eve.
“Taste it. Rember this flavor, and then…” Sylvia stepped aside. “Eve, you try once.”
Eve did not refuse. She first used her unusually sharp senses to sll it, took a simple sip, then without pausing began following Sylvia’s steps.
When Eve swiftly replicated the process and pushed the brewed tea toward Sylvia, the latter lifted it, slling before tasting.
After a brief silence, Sylvia set down the teacup. The way she looked at Eve now held not only admiration, but curiosity and surprise.
“Perfect. Eve, your observation and mory—especially your control over details—are talents that astonish .”
Sylvia knew well that even trained maids required repeated practice to achieve this level of imitation.
And Eve had only watched once and tasted once.
Eve rely raised her chin slightly, her expression unchanged. “I simply followed the steps demonstrated by the Head Maid.”
How impressive you are, Sister Eve ()
“To do it identically after seeing it once is a capability in itself,” Sylvia said as she sat down again.
“It seems I can have higher expectations for your theoretical knowledge and basic operations. Let us continue…”
Over the following ti, Sylvia’s explanations noticeably quickened and deepened. She discovered that Eve not only listened attentively but always grasped the key points, and her questions often struck directly at the core.
Those complicated schedules—she could organize their logic after hearing them once. The properties of various fabrics and their maintenance taboos—she rembered the essentials.
In truth, it was because everything was written in the notebook. Eve rely had a slightly better mory; reciting it hardly required thinking.
By the ti the setting sun began to spill over the garden’s roses, Sylvia closed the notebook. The planned material for the day was complete—indeed, exceeded.
Several hours had passed without notice.
“Today’s lesson ends here,” Sylvia said, looking at Eve with a satisfied smile. “Eve, your performance far exceeded my expectations.”
She paused, her tone growing more solemn. “A personal maid does not only manage daily life. To a certain extent, it requires your absolute loyalty.”
“From what you showed today, I believe the Young Miss’s choice may contain wisdom we have yet to fully understand.”
Eve subtly rubbed her sore hips from sitting so long. Wisdom? Interesting. Could it be that the Young Miss simply wished to take revenge?
“Keep it up. But there will not be many opportunities for one-on-one teaching in the future—you must learn while working,” Sylvia said as she stood and gathered the tea set and notebook. “You may move freely now. You can familiarize yourself with the manor or return to your room to rest.”
“But before eight tonight, you must go to the study to et the Young Miss.”
Eve had just stood when she froze. So soon? She had assud it would be at least tomorrow. She had even planned to go out again tonight.
Well… so be it.
“Goodbye, Sister Viya.”
Sylvia smiled as she watched Eve leave the pavilion and disappear completely from sight. The smile on her face lingered as she gently stroked the smooth notebook.
Remarkable learning ability. Absolute composure. Control over standards and details… Eve, you seem to be hiding other secrets.
However, for now, she was developing toward becoming a perfect personal maid, and Sylvia had fulfilled the Family Head’s arrangent.
Give her special care. Do not treat her as an [ordinary servant]. Thinking this, Sylvia looked in the direction Eve had left and took a sip of black tea.
“It does not taste good once it grows cold…”
…
When night fully fell over Morninglight Manor, Eve also looked entirely renewed as she stepped out of the maid-exclusive single dormitory room. The reason she seed renewed was that her maid outfit had changed.
Eve pinched her skirt hem, rose onto her toes, and gently turned left and right. Her lowered gaze passed over the deep valley of her upper curves and settled on the fluttering skirt.
“Not bad…”
On her head was a white lace maid headdress, with black ribbon bows on both sides preserving the distinction of her hair color.
The maid uniform’s upper garnt had changed from fully enclosed to an off-shoulder strap design. Layers of white lace ruffles encircled it, allowing her generous bust more freedom.
Additionally, the neck ribbon now included a black bow—not only strengthening the overall Gothic atmosphere, gorgeous and vintage, but also concealing the bite marks on her neck. Two benefits in one.
This was the special style for a personal maid, abandoning relative conservatism to better highlight the wearer’s temperant.
Simply put, she had been promoted—from a laboring workhorse to a slightly more relaxed one. At least she no longer needed to handle chores like cleaning and only had to devote herself entirely to the Young Miss.
For others, it might be good news: promotion, higher pay, higher status. But for Eve, it might not be as wonderful as it sounded.
“If it is a battle, then let it be a battle. I only hope it does not bore .”
Eve muttered her [pre-battle declaration], as though making so decision. Allowing her waist-length hair to dance with the night breeze, she departed without looking back.
Five minutes later…
“What do you an, go wait in the room?”
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