Chapter 47
Suspicion
The following hours had been exhausting for the young princess; for a year now she had experienced almost no contact with anyone but herself, or at least no one but the artificially simulated minds that she had created within herself. Physically, the only person that Mary has spent any real time with has been her personal maid, Sylvia.
Perhaps it was this lack of contact with others that led her to embark on a new journey as an introvert; this outcome showed, in some small way, that the isolation she had experienced had been somewhat successful.
It was with these thoughts flowing through her mind that Mary decided, in the future, when she was free of the isolation of the palace, she would have to forcefully correct the introverted nature that had been forced upon her, although Alexander hadn’t been much of a people person either. Nonetheless, being an introvert would serve her poorly in this life, and would it not be a quality that needed to be removed?
Nonetheless, the confusion and frustration Mary felt from this entire series of events only seemed to increase as the hours progressed. For while most of the maids present had been remarkably friendly, almost suspiciously so, the head maid, Katarina, had been distant and cold.
If Mary were being generous, she would use the word "professional" to describe her. This was an additional problem, as Mary was reluctant to be generous to someone she didn’t know and whose goals were dubious at best.
Even worse, from her perspective, this vast difference in attitude had confused the princess tremendously; she couldn’t understand what the goal was, nor could she understand the reason for the massive difference in attitude that she was now being subjected to.
Mary allowed herself to glance at Sylvia; her confusion was something that could be solved, but without some privacy, she could not question her maid on what was truly going on.
With the maids' collective attitude completely shifting and the former king's death, Mary was no longer entirely certain how reliable Sylvia's information might actually be.
None of the conversations that Mary had with Sylvia indicated that this might occur should the former king die.
‘Really, what is going on?’
Mary wondered.
However, what the princess knew for certain was that the now friendly maids, one and all, were from common families. She also knew that Katarina was the only noble among them. Mary had to believe that the information she had been given by Sylvia was at least broadly correct; to do otherwise would be to invite madness.
But could the difference in social status truly be the reason for the change in attitude that she was experiencing? She thought that it was possible; after all, Sylvia had told her that the commoners did not support the hero’s enslavement laws, but equally that the traditional noble families were often heavily supportive.
In truth, Mary had her doubts about such a conclusion. Why would the palace bureaucracy hire individuals who actively oppose the kingdom's current status quo?
To Mary, the very thought of doing something so stupid was absurd and irrational.
Even with the human enchantment that the maids had been subjected to, if they opposed the hero’s laws, then surely that would make them potential spies, easily discovered subversive elements?
If Mary had learned nothing else during the last few hours, she had learned that she still knew far too little about the general situation in the Midgard palace and, by extension, the kingdom at large.
Mary frowned bitterly as she stared into the mirror before her; the princess could not help but send a discrete glare at the maids who were gathered around her, some applying makeup, others adjusting her new clothes that had practically appeared out of thin air.
If there was another thing that the princess knew with some certainty, it was that she had briefly seen all of these maids before. They would practically storm into the room without asking for permission on a weekly basis, clean every spot of dust, refresh all of the furniture, recharge the enchantments, and then leave just as abruptly.
Sylvia had informed Mary that the palace maid corps was responsible for palace maintenance, which was essentially what she had witnessed whenever they had visited.
But the maids had never glanced at the princess during these visits. They had been distant and silent, ominously so even.
And that was a stark contrast to how they were acting right now; the maids of now were not distant; instead, they were friendly and approachable.
They were not cold but warm and affectionate.
One of the still nameless maids held Mary firmly, restraining another twitch.
Currently, the princess was placed before her room’s vanity; she had been sitting at it as they entered, of course, but apparently, she hadn’t been using it correctly.
What this truly means continues to baffle the princess; nonetheless, she was being given a tutorial on its purpose, and the maids were using her as the test dummy.
Before her current trial, that being afflicted with what she regarded as the most girly of her current life's activities, she had spent over an hour being taught how to move in the graceful manner expected of a princess.
And before even that, she had been given a hands-on tutorial on how to eat her breakfast as befitting a noble.
Throughout it all, Mary had restrained herself valiantly, at least in her opinion, from lashing out in aggravation at the entirely different mannerisms of the maids.
The more she thought about it, the more she could only regard it all as very suspicious.
“Don’t you worry, princess.”
The maid who was holding her, the one with the objectively strange green hair, spoke to her in a nearly whimsical manner.
“We’ll always be on hand to help you get ready for any royal events; you only need to know how to do it yourself in case of emergencies.”
‘Emergencies?’
Mary asked herself, even more baffled than before. The princess could not figure out, no matter how much she leaned on Alexander’s experience, what sort of emergency might require makeup.
Perhaps that was because he was a man?
Mary wondered to herself if that was the case; did she just not understand because her expectations are still masculine?
Mary blinked to herself as the rest of what the maid had said finally registered.
“You’ll help from now on?”
Mary asked the maid, in a tone that she hoped was questioning rather than dubious.
The maids around her all smiled brightly at the question.
“Of course!”
Answered one of the other maids with a truly worrying degree of cheer. This one, the one who had proven to be the most active and cheerful of the bunch, somehow had bright red hair.
For a short moment Mary once again found herself wondering both why these maids seemed to be almost colour-coded and further how they had gained such electric hair colours, at least without access to Earth's gene clinics. But Mary had long since assumed that it must have something to do with mana. Everything else strange in this world seemed to, after all.
“The king has assigned us to care for you, princess.”
This red-haired one continued with what Mary privately considered an unsightly degree of happiness.
“You won’t have to put up with that maniac alone anymore.”
A third maid, this one with dark, possibly even black hair, stated dully.
Mary took the opportunity to frown openly, although she had to restrain herself to aiming it only at the third maid. After all, Sylvia had raised her; by every reasonable metric, Mary should be fond of her and be defensive at any insults.
In the corner of her eye, Mary caught the silver-haired maid reflected in the mirror; she had clearly been hanging back intently watching the maids gathered around her princess.
Unseen by anyone but Mary, what could only be called a foreboding smile had stretched across her face, squarely aimed at the maids who were still chatting to her princess.
A dark smile that clearly wanted to be something else, something that promised far more violence than anyone in her chambers was prepared for.
In the mirror, Mary also saw Katarina throw what she took to be a concerned look towards Sylvia, but the dark smile had disappeared by the time Katarina looked towards her.
Mary was almost certain that she was the only one to see it.
‘I wonder if it’s lucky that they missed it?’
She asked herself dubiously; instead, she chose to continue the conversation, such as it was, finally seeing a chance to gather at least some new information.
“What do you mean? I like Sylvia.”
Mary asked the gathered maids innocently.
In the mirror Mary saw Sylvias' already charming features light up, apparently transforming from what could only be called an already outstandingly beautiful maid into a face that on Earth would have without a doubt started a war, her near frown turning into a delighted, beaming smile.
{Let’s all take a moment to appreciate how weird and creepy Sylvia can be.}
One of the princesses second-mindeded sarcastically.
{Yes.} {Definitely.}
The voices echoed wholehearted agreement at the comment.
But while her personal maid was delighted at the question, the other maids in the room were, it seems, less so. Mary watched as most of them had almost started to fidget before Katarina glared them back into shape.
“Princess.”
Katarina stated firmly.
“Sylvia is your personal maid and bodyguard.”
The head maid revealed.
For Mary the reveal was not overly surprising; she would go so far as to say that it would have been amongst her guesses had she truly thought about it. In fact, now that it had been mentioned, Mary would even say that it was a logical choice given the supposed aims of raising her.
Sylvia, it seems, was a known friend of Elizabeth, and an observer could reasonably conclude that she would protect Mary fervently.
While this might have caused problems later on, when Mary's enslavement was due, she also knew that the Izayoi family had ultimately stayed their hand at least once before, having not wanted to be responsible for the destruction of the Midgard kingdom.
Further, while Sylvia was powerful and knowledgeable in her own right, that power and knowledge was not easily transferable outside of her family’s gene line.
The maid ultimately lacked the magical knowledge to secretly raise a magical prodigy. At least, that was how it would appear to people who didn’t know that Sylvia had inherited access to Elizabeth's own personal collections.
And even then, even with access to Elizabeth's magic books, if Mary had not been of the right temperament, then that would only have helped so much.
Whatever Sylvias' original plan might have been, it had feasibly been saved by the fact that Mary was a reincarnated otherworlder.
Mary frowned at the thought and threw a considering glance at the maid.
The fact that Mary had been a reincarnator was something that Sylvia had realised about the newborn princess without any real proof to base it off of.
Before Mary could think on the peculiarity further, her attention was pulled back to Katarina.
“But the Izayoi family has something of a reputation.”
The head maid looked at Sylvia wearily before continuing.
“That appearance of hers is entirely natural, for instance. No makeup at all.”
Mary frowned and looked at Katarina questioningly.
Was that not the result of magic just making the people of this world extremely beautiful?
Seeing the frown, Katarina sighed in exasperation.
“Sylvia climbs out of the bed looking like that. She gets out of the bath looking like that. All her apparent grace comes from her bloodline.”
The head maid stated with open annoyance.
In the mirror, Mary saw Sylvia flinch at every hammer blow.
Mary's face flattened as she realised what was being said.
{‘Sakuya!!!’}
Said all of the Marys listening, their exasperation at the maid-fetishist once again renewed.
“What you're saying is that Sylvia and her entire family require no preparation at all to appear as graceful and beautiful as she does.”
Katarina blinked in surprise, glancing at the princess before nodding in agreement.
“Yes. Her family is one of the few in the world that does not suffer from bed hair.”
The noblewoman announced with what was clearly some sort of long-lasting grudge.
A large part of Mary understood that grudge; Alexander had been forced to put up with extremely rich people that always looked perfect as well.
“You princess do not have such an advantage and thus need to be prepared.”
“Oh.”
Mary utters with something that could have been similar to understanding.
‘Is that one of the advantages that we can take for ourselves with biomancy?’
The princess wonders secretly.