The next morning, the still-drowsy Ximo stood in a line with the other mansion servants, listening to the head maid Annaer conduct the morning meeting.
Annaer was truly strict when it came to work and the other servants. Every morning, she held a meeting to assign the entire day’s tasks and offer a few reminders along the way.
Ximo fought back a yawn with effort. She felt that reincarnating into another world only to work like an ox or horse was hardship enough. It was far better to play the sickly young lady—at least young ladies didn’t have to get up this early.
“Ximo.”
“Huh? I’m here!”
Annaer’s words startled Ximo, chasing away much of her sleepiness.
“You stay behind. Everyone else, go to your work.”
Once the others had left, Annaer frowned and asked, “You went to the Adventurers’ Association yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Eh? How did you know… Wait, Miss gave me the day off, so it shouldn’t count as skipping work, right?”
Ximo shrank back, instinctively assuming Annaer was there to reprimand her.
But how was Annaer’s information network so sharp? Ximo hadn’t told anyone, so how had she found out about the Adventurers’ Association visit?
“If it was arranged by Miss, then naturally it doesn’t count,” Annaer said with a serious expression. “So, did the young lady also arrange for you to go to the Adventurers’ Association?”
Annaer wasn’t concerned about the little maid sneaking out right now. What mattered was something else.
“Uh…”
Ximo was still pondering how to respond when Xiliya’s figure suddenly appeared at the room’s doorway.
“Good morning, Miss.”
Annaer immediately performed a standard curtsy, but Xiliya ignored her and fixed a grim look on Ximo.
“Come with me, Ximo.”
Ximo hadn’t expected the young lady to rise so early either. But judging by Xiliya’s expression, whatever she wanted didn’t seem like good news.
…
With a “bang,” the room door closed behind Ximo. Xiliya yanked her forward, her gaze hostile.
“W-What’s wrong, Miss?”
“You’re quite capable, aren’t you, Ximo? I didn’t expect you to be willing to spend ten silver coins for my sake just to post a commission.”
Ximo breathed a sigh of relief inwardly. So that was it—just the outsourcing getting discovered. But she’d handled the task so diligently; Xiliya surely wouldn’t blame her for it.
“Of course,” Ximo puffed out her chest. “Doing something for you, Miss—this bit of money is nothing.”
“So you mean that relying on this little trick to spread word of my need to investigate the merchant guilds far and wide was also part of your plan?”
“You’ve only been at the mansion for a little over a month. Annaer must have paid you at most one month’s wages. You’re even willing to dip into two months’ worth from your own pocket to set me up. I’m truly touched, Ximo.”
Ximo froze. Two months’ wages? That meant her pay for a single month was only five silver coins?
She suddenly realized things had gone wrong. As a transmigrator, she didn’t understand this world’s currency system at all. She hadn’t given much thought to the purchasing power of those ten silver coins yesterday.
“Just a small commission to gather merchant guild intelligence, and someone offered ten silver coins for it. Such an outrageous matter spread through the adventurers’ circles in just one afternoon.”
“I even heard that a few adventurers got into a brawl over snatching that commission.”
“Impressive, Ximo. Coming up with this kind of open scheme to plot against me. I asked you to quietly gather some information for me, and you deliberately posted such an expensive little commission to draw attention. Once word spreads through the city, the major guilds and Masha will know about it too, right?”
As Xiliya spoke, she slowly closed in on Ximo, forcing her to retreat until she plopped down on the bed with no way out.
“I-I-I didn’t think like that!” Ximo hurriedly explained. “I just thought spending a bit more might get someone to take the commission quickly. I didn’t mean to let word reach Madam…”
Xiliya flashed a friendly smile. “I’ve already guessed you’d say that. Do you think this is a courtroom? Or that I’m easy to bully—as long as your logic holds up without evidence, I’ll let you off?”
Once this reached Masha’s ears, that old fox would surely guess that Ximo had been acting on her orders and realize she was plotting to seize the family assets.
Ximo’s ploy of borrowing a knife to kill was cleverly executed. She must have schemed over it for quite a while in private.
On some level, Xiliya admired Ximo. She hadn’t expected her to be so… forgetful of the beating after remembering the treats.
Logically, she’d already taught her a lesson last time. No matter how slow Ximo was, she should have realized that Xiliya was no longer the pushover young lady of before. Yet here she was, scheming against her again the very next day.
Xiliya could only resignedly conclude that someone like Ximo wouldn’t shed tears until she saw the coffin. And for such people…
Xiliya moved to act, but Ximo was already begging for mercy.
“I was wrong, Miss! I really didn’t mean it like that!”
“I see you still haven’t grasped the relationship between us,” Xiliya wagged a finger. “Outside, you call me Miss, and I won’t nitpick. But here, what should you call me?”
Ximo couldn’t answer and could only blink her big eyes, trembling.
Thus, Xiliya lifted Ximo’s clothes, exposing that ornate mark, and enunciated each word: “You’re my slave. So what should you call me?”
“M-Master…?” Ximo finally got it, a spark of hope rising in her heart. “Then, Master, could you forgive me this once?”
“Of course—not.”
Soon, the room echoed once more with Ximo’s whimpering cries.
But this time, Xiliya didn’t vent on Ximo for long. Mainly because Ximo cried too miserably—tears streaming like beads from a broken string, pear blossoms in rain. Even after she stopped, Ximo kept sobbing.
Xiliya figured it wasn’t an act. If she was so terrified of punishment yet still played these little schemes, she could only conclude Ximo was both incompetent and mischievous.
Ximo didn’t want to cry so hard either, but she had that damn System to blame for assigning such a useless reward. Even a slight exertion from Xiliya made her burst into tears!
“Impressive, dear,” the System’s mechanical voice carried a hint of admiration. “You’re way too dedicated, aren’t you?”
“Getting scammed out of money and bullied two days in a row—the original Xiliya never took this much grievance so densely. Could it be you have a real talent for playing the sickly young lady?”
“Seeing how hard you’re working to stay in character, I’m really tearing up…”
The System’s words infuriated Ximo, sending fresh tears down her cheeks. Xiliya, unable to watch any longer, tossed her a handkerchief.
“Stop crying. This matter ends here, but if there’s a next time…”
Xiliya made a throat-slitting gesture.
Ximo had tested her limits time and again, wearing out her patience. She’d spared this little assassin’s life thinking an extra pawn would aid her revenge. But if the pawn was this disobedient, there was no need to keep her.
Moreover, Ximo’s current state always reminded her of her past-life self—that sniveling, cowardly appearance was identical to how she’d been before, and it just made her angry!
