On Rational Marital Life - Chapter 43

The arrogant tutor had been dismissed. The news spread quickly among the servants.

“She could’ve just fired her, but why did she have to call her mother and make such a big deal out of it? What if rumors start spreading?”

“They say she was a relative from her mother’s side. Maybe she was worried about false rumors spreading.”

“This is why people you know are the scariest.”

“I thought she’d ignore it since it wasn’t her own son, but she handled it quickly.”

“That’s not true. The lady does pay attention to the young master and talks to him often. Before I worked here, I served in another noble household, and trust me, that’s already more than what most nobles do for their children. They’re always so busy.”

“You should have seen that fox of a countess turn pale and tremble when she was confronted. It was priceless.”

“The way she’s been acting lately… do you really think she’s the kind of person who’d commit a crime?”

“But don’t you think there’s something off between the two of them? The atmosphere feels cold.”

Fights were always the most entertaining gossip—especially when they involved the lord and lady of the house.

Some of the more observant servants took note of the fact that Blake had been present.

That incident would prove to be the first sign of change within the Burman household.

The very next morning, the servants began to feel the shift firsthand.

As soon as word of the governess’s dismissal spread, Layla gathered all the household staff.

The summoned servants stood in the hall, exchanging nervous glances. A sudden meeting with the mistress of the house was rarely a good thing for those employed under her.

Standing at the top of the stairs, Layla surveyed the anxious servants. Beside her stood Whaler, the man responsible for overseeing the household’s finances.

This meant the decision had been made with Blake’s approval.

“I’ve been too preoccupied to properly manage the household,” Layla began, her voice clear despite its quiet tone. “I will be filling the vacant positions of butler and head maid as soon as possible. Until then, I will be overseeing the household affairs myself.”

Most of the servants had only ever seen Layla from a distance. Hearing her speak in such a composed yet commanding manner, the murmuring among them began to die down.

“In order to better understand the state of the household, I will require all expenses to be reported before proceeding. This will only be temporary, until the new butler and head maid are appointed, so it won’t take long. I will also be delegating responsibilities to those who show competence.”

Layla took a sheet of paper from Whaler and held it up for all to see.

“In addition, I will be conducting individual meetings with each servant, following the order listed here. Three people at a time, every hour. If you have faced any difficulties or if there are areas that need improvement, I want to hear about them.”

Typically, servants only ever faced their employers during hiring or dismissal. The mere idea of a one-on-one meeting made many of them visibly uncomfortable.

“For those who are not here, make sure to inform them,” Layla continued. “Now, the first three…”

As Layla called out the names, the chosen servants inhaled sharply.

She had deliberately selected those responsible for the most menial tasks in the household.

“We’ll begin now. Follow me.”

At her command, the three named servants went pale. They glanced around as if seeking rescue, but no one was in a position to help them.

With slumped shoulders, they trudged after Layla like livestock being led to slaughter.

Outside her study, three chairs had been arranged in the hallway. Two of them were instructed to wait while one was taken inside for a private conversation.

Marisa, who had been secretly watching the scene unfold, rushed back to the hall where the other servants were gathered. The air was thick with unease and hushed speculation.

Most of them believed that this was a prelude to layoffs—a move to reduce excess staff.

As soon as Marisa returned, the others surrounded her.

“The mistress is meeting with them one-on-one.”

A few of the servants audibly gasped. The thought of facing the mistress alone filled them with dread.

Marisa lowered her voice and spoke urgently.

“Listen carefully, everyone. We need to look out for each other. It’s not like we can just find work elsewhere so easily. And if we’re dismissed, do you really think they’ll write us recommendations? No way. So, whatever the mistress asks, just say everything is fine. No problems, no complaints.”

“Well, of course. What kind of fool would tell the truth just because their employer asks?”

“Exactly.”

Marisa smirked to herself before continuing.

‘I won’t let that woman get her way.’

“She’s a cunning one. She’s completely bewitched that brute, and now she’s trying to take control of the estate. If we want to protect this household, we need to be careful not to get fired.”

“But… we’ve been ignoring her all this time, just as you told us to.”

“We didn’t even respond when the service bell rang.”

“How is that my fault? Did I tell you to ignore it? You all said she was a disgrace to nobility and needed to be put in her place!”

“Well… that’s true, but…”

Growing irritated with the foolish remarks of the maids, Marisa snapped at them, making sure to instill fear.

“Watch what you say. Understand? We have to protect each other. Don’t forget why the butler and head maid were dismissed.”

“…I miss Head Maid Anne. She was always good to us.”

“The butler too…”

“She said she would hire a new butler and head maid… does that mean Butler Grant and Anne won’t be coming back?”

“If new people come in, who knows how badly they’ll try to control us…”

Marisa clenched her jaw to suppress a triumphant smile at their growing unease.

“That’s why I should become the head maid. You all know I’m on your side.”

“I think Marisa would make a great head maid too.”

Hearing those words filled her with pride.

She had worked in this estate for a long time, but when Viscount Bastian was still the owner, he had chosen someone two years younger than her to be head maid—someone Anne had personally mentored as her successor.

However, when Viscount Bastian fled, the estate was quickly sold to Blake, and both the butler and head maid had left with their former master. A few others had also quit, refusing to work under a Strover after losing their families in the war. As a result, Marisa was now the most senior maid in the household.

And yet, despite her efforts—despite diligently reporting everything to Blake and catering to his moods—he had never promoted her to head maid.

‘I have to take the position before that woman seizes full control of the estate. While she still doesn’t know how things work.’

* * *

The servant finished their interview and left, the door closing behind them. Leaning back against her chair, Layla let out a sigh.

“This isn’t easy.”

She had gone through half the list already, but no matter what she asked, the responses were always the same.

“I have no complaints.”

“I’m happy to be working here.”

“It’s not bad.”

“No! There’s nothing inconvenient at all!”

She had asked about their working conditions, whether they were being mistreated, if there were any supplies they needed, or if their families had any ill members, but the answers never changed.
There was nothing.

Layla understood that servants found it difficult to be honest with their employers. Complaining meant risking their jobs, which was why middle managers like the butler or head maid were so important.

During breakfast, Blake had been skeptical of her efforts.

“Just give orders.”

“If problems pile up, they’ll lead to bigger issues. It’s better to address them before things escalate.”

“Then just fire whoever causes trouble.”

“This isn’t a military camp. These people work to survive. If you just cut them off without warning, it’ll only make the atmosphere tense and more exhausting for everyone—including you. You’ve managed mercenaries before, haven’t you? You must know that leadership isn’t just about giving orders.”

“If someone doesn’t listen, make them run drills until they drop. If morale is low, throw a feast with plenty of booze. They’ll figure out how to get along if they want to survive.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Blake simply didn’t understand why Layla was going through all this trouble.

“Do you really need to hold interviews? You’re making this harder on yourself.”

“Are you telling me not to?” Layla asked calmly. “If you say so, I won’t.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Since the incident in the storage room, Layla had been cold toward him. Blake had even asked Whaler if she was angry.

Knock, knock.

The next interviewee had arrived.

She had scheduled three interviews per hour, but since everyone gave the same answers, they ended quickly, leaving her with long breaks in between. However, she couldn’t simply line them all up in the hallway—interrupting their work like that would be inefficient.

“Come in.”

Two of them answered the usual way and left quickly. The third to enter was a young maid responsible for laundry and assisting in the kitchen. She was around the same age as Layla.

Unlike the others, she didn’t seem nervous—perhaps she had overheard the previous interviews. Instead, she wore a look of mild annoyance, as if this was a waste of time.

“Leah, have a seat.”

“…Yes.”

At the sound of her name, the maid’s eyes widened slightly.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Three years.”

“I wanted to speak to the staff before taking full charge of the household. I’d like to know if there’s anything that needs improvement, if you need assistance with your duties, or if there are any inconveniences.”

“None at all. The wages are good, and everyone here has worked together for a long time. There’s nothing to complain about.”

The same response as all the others.

Hearing her voice, Layla recognized her. Leah was the maid who had been gossiping in the linen room about Layla and Blake in a rather inappropriate manner.

“The household has changed, hasn’t it? There’s a new master now. Here, eat while we talk.”

Layla pushed a plate of cookies and a glass of milk toward Leah. The maid’s eyes widened in surprise.

Some of the previous interviewees had hesitated, unsure if they were truly allowed to accept the refreshments, but Leah outright refused.

Milk wasn’t expensive compared to a laborer’s daily wages, but it was still a luxury. Even when sterilized and heated, it spoiled quickly, making it something the lower classes could only afford on occasion.

Even the household servants would sneak sips from the kitchen rather than drink it openly.

For Leah to refuse outright meant she had no intention of opening up.

“If I talk…”

Staring at the glass, Leah narrowed her eyes and let out a scoff.

“Will anything actually change? Can you even get rid of those ignorant, rude savages?”