Chapter 34 : A Devil
Memorizing Liliane’s schedule, as daunting as the final question of a math exam, was merely the first hurdle.
Just as Ailiya thought she could catch her breath and begin a day of “escorting the princess,” Liliane picked up another sheet from the table and handed it to her.
This paper was of finer quality, printed with elegant cursive in a clear table, titled “Personal Maid Training Evaluation Form.”
“What… is this?” Ailiya’s eyelid twitched, an ominous feeling creeping up.
“Your training scorecard,” Liliane said, her voice devoid of emotion. “From now on, after each task, I’ll evaluate your performance across efficiency, accuracy, foresight, and demeanor. At the end of the day, I’ll average the scores.”
She paused, her smile so “kind” it sent shivers down Ailiya’s spine. “You need an average of 80 to pass.”
“Not 60?!” Ailiya nearly blurted out.
Lady, what kind of black-hearted corporate standard is this?!
But with a mountain of debt looming, she had no room to negotiate.
Forcing her contorted expression into a perfect smile, mimicking the polished waitresses from her past life’s upscale restaurants, Ailiya bowed deeply to Liliane, radiating humility.
If I had a bottle of wine right now, I’d unscrew it and pour it all down your pretty throat!
Liliane seemed to sense something, glancing back.
Ailiya smothered her dangerous thoughts, her professional smile flawless.
They walked through the quiet west building corridor, morning sunlight streaming through arched windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
Liliane’s polished boots clicked rhythmically—tap, tap, tap—like a grim metronome striking Ailiya’s taut nerves.
“Ailiya,” Liliane’s voice cut through the silence, clear in the empty hall. “What’s my first task today?”
Here it comes! Pop quiz!
Ailiya’s eyes sharpened. The schedule’s contents were insane, but the first item was crystal clear.
[8:30-9:30: Magic History Debate, Third Library, Fourth Floor Restricted Section.]
And she’d scouted the route to the Third Library in advance!
Chest puffed with confidence, Ailiya stepped ahead, turning decisively at a fork toward a quieter corridor. With a graceful spin, she gestured, “Lady Liliane, this way, please,” every move textbook-perfect.
Liliane stopped, her violet eyes studying Ailiya’s smug, polished posture. “Ailiya,” she said slowly, “what time is it?”
“Huh?” Ailiya blinked, puzzled by the obvious question, but answered honestly. “Around… 8:10, I think?”
The schedule memorization ended at 8:05; not much time had passed.
Liliane’s gaze drifted past Ailiya to the corridor leading to the Third Library. “How long does it take to get there?”
Ailiya’s confidence surged. She’d chosen this shortcut to avoid student crowds! “About five minutes, my lady!”
“So, we have fifteen minutes to spare, correct?” Liliane said calmly, her tone making Ailiya’s heart skip.
Then, almost casually, Liliane asked, “Have you eaten breakfast, Ailiya?”
Ailiya shook her head instinctively.
Half-dead from drinking last night and rattled by that devilish test, she’d barely dragged herself out of bed for “work.” Breakfast? No chance.
Liliane nodded, then dropped a question that made Ailiya’s hair stand on end. “Do you think I need breakfast?”
Oh no.
The moment the question landed, Ailiya sensed the fatal trap.
Before she could muster a response, Liliane turned and walked toward the First Cafeteria—the opposite direction of the library.
Tap, tap, tap…
The sound of her heels was like a death knell in Ailiya’s ears.
“Ailiya,” Liliane called without turning, her voice laced with icy amusement. “Did you notice? The schedule only lists critical tasks. Trivial matters requiring buffer time aren’t included.”
She reached the cafeteria door and glanced back, her violet eyes brimming with mischief. “Like dining. Planning time for these ‘trifles’ to ensure your master is in peak condition for every core task—that’s part of a personal maid’s training.”
Her smile was pure devilry in Ailiya’s eyes. “Foresight, minus ten points.”
With that, she strode into the cafeteria.
Ailiya’s face turned green.
Unreasonable! This is a tyrant’s clause! Workplace bullying!
She stomped in fury, fists clenched, nails digging into her palms.
But the next second, her anger dissolved into a resigned sigh. She hurried after Liliane, humiliated.
The next few hours taught Ailiya what “hell on earth” meant.
Her brain was on the verge of shutting down.
She had to be a high-precision radar, scanning Liliane’s every move, anticipating her thoughts, predicting her actions.
During the meeting, when Liliane’s pen ran low on ink, Ailiya had to uncap a spare bottle and place it within reach before she could ask.
In class, when a breeze disturbed Liliane’s book pages, Ailiya had to glide silently to adjust the window before a frown could form.
Even walking the corridors, she had to pre-plan routes like a human GPS, dodging potential student traffic to save every second.
She had no idea how many points Liliane had docked on that cursed notepad.
Just as Ailiya felt she might faint from mental strain, they arrived at the day’s most critical task.
A remote magical negotiation between the Winter family and the Northern Archduke regarding the “new tax rate for the mana crystal mines.”