There was someone in the bed.

Oh Lord, I had forgotten to knock on the door.

The boy that sat in the bed turned around once he heard my gasp.

Master Eugene.

The boy in the bed was still in his night-clothes, a white night-shirt. He looked just as surprised as I was, but thankfully he didn't make a sound like I did.

He didn't look like any of the other masters. His hair was a light shade of brown, like autumn leaves, and it was a bit on the long side. His bangs partially covered his left eye and the other side was tucked behind his ears. It looked soft. His expression was gentle, and he looked younger than what be probably was.

Then he spoke.

"Are you—you're the new maid, right?"

His voice was different the the others too, neither haughty nor nonchalant, as we were simply workers—but polite, like greeting a guest. He even added a small smile.

I didn't know how to reply. He suddenly laughed, but not impolitely.

"Sorry, that was foolish of me, you are the new maid. Otherwise you wouldn't be here with the sheets and all." He spoke to himself, and then suddenly struggled to straighten himself. There was something funny about his movement.

"I apologize for coming into your room without permission," I said, trembling, as he continued to move, "I'll leave right away, Master Eugene."

"Wait!"

Before I knew it, I heard a clang, and saw Master Eugene with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry, I knocked over my cane in my haste and can't reach it, can you do me a favor and get it for me?"

"Huh?"

He gestured to the area next to his nightstand.

"Oh—yes, Master Eugene."

I scurried to his side and then picked up the cane that laid sideways on the floor. It was a extraordinary cane, its shaft made of dark brown wood with a silver hilt engraved with vines and leaves. I picked it up and realized it was much heavier than it looked, and handed it to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm very sorry for bothering you, I'll be taking my leave."

"No, no," he stood up suddenly, leaning on his cane, the covers strewn back. "I feel awful too, for not greeting the new maids properly last night. I am Eugene Beardsley, as you probably know, third son of Lord Adam Beardsley."

I nodded and then looked at the front of my chaffed boots and whispered, "I'm Sue—Shuyan."

"Shuyan." He practiced saying my name. Then he smiled. "It's a pleasure having you. Would you mind changing my sheets?"

"Huh?" I cursed myself for saying it so many times. "I mean, yes, Master Eugene, but are you sure?"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I can use a cane just fine." He pushed himself up on a cane, and surprisingly, took a few steady steps to a chair where he sat down.

Feeling my face flush, I nodded. Everything felt like a daze as I pulled off the sheets, replaced them, and fluffed the pillows.

"And would you mind also dusting my room?" He asked as he climbed back into bed, smiling faintly, his bangs falling in front of his green eyes.

"Yes, of course." I turned and began to dust the nightstand, aware of his eyes on me the entire time.

"Matthew, my valet, isn't exactly the best at cleaning," he continued speaking, as though we were friends. I wished he could stop, and yet I was scared that not replying would offend him, so I gave a small laugh to show I was listening. He continued, nonetheless. "I'm glad they hired housekeepers. We've always tried having the valets and footmen do it, but cleaning simply isn't their forte."

"I see." I was trying my best at keeping the conversation going, but truth was I didn't know what to say.

"I'm glad now there's someone who will change the sheets and dust the place every day. I hope we can become friends."

I turned to look at him, surprised.

"Friends?" I couldn't help blurting it out. "I—I'm only a maid."

He turned his head to one side in confusion, hair falling over one eye. He had big eyes, unlike the more hooded and heavy-set ones of Mister Silas and Master Tobias, or the almond-shaped ones of the twins.

"We can still be friends."

It was as though he was stating a simple fact. Did he not understand the rules of the House of Beardsley that the men of Beardsley, meaning him, set themselves?

"But," I faltered, "what about the rules of not talking with one another?"

He opened his mouth, suddenly understanding.

"Oh, that?"  Suddenly, a small, devious smile came over his lips. "No one has to know."

I was still silent, so he continued.

"I'm unable to walk now, so I stay in my room and eat in my room most of the times. Thus, I don't really talk to anyone but Matthew, occasionally Tobias and the twins, if they come and visit, and my pets. But truth is, it's pretty lonely." He gave me a melancholic smile. "I'd like to have a friend who I can actually talk to without pity."

My eyes widened. The third son of Beardsley was lonely? And he wanted a friend?

"If you don't want to, it's fine—"

"No," I replied, surprising myself. "If I can be a good enough companion for you, I'll be willing to."

He beamed, boyishly and different from before.

"Thank you, Shuyan." 

After I left the room, I closed the door and ran down the stairs to the servants' hall, my heart pounding from the fear.

If Mister Kupka knew—forget my breakfast, I'd probably be expelled on the spot.

Once I reached the laundry-room, I took a deep breath, combed down my hair, and then opened the door. All the other girls were there already.

Beth was sitting on the table like before, swinging her feet happily and grinning.

"Finally! I thought you got lost, Shuyan!"

"What took you so long? I'm starving," Clo said, leaning against the wall, playing with her curly hair.

Rhiannon, who was sitting at a seat at the shoe-shining table, only glanced at me before looking away.

I didn't know I took that long. The conversation with Eugene felt like an hour, but I dusted everything as fast as I could. After all, I was aware he was watching me and it gave me an unpleasant sense of deja vu.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to find it in me to answer them. They were probably hungry but still had to wait for me to eat. The day was getting worse by the moment.

"I'm really sorry," I repeated.

There was a bit of awkward silence before Clo sighed.

"Shuyan, we weren't mad. You shouldn't apologize at every little thing. In a place like this where everyone is your enemy, you won't get anywhere by always trying to pacify and please others."

When I raised my head to look up at her, I could see Clo was serious.

"Yes, but I made you all wait for me and none of you had breakfast."

"That doesn't matter," she said, surprising me. "You have to think about yourself first. You are hungry too, so you know how we feel. We understand that you probably had trouble on your first day. My point is that you have to live for yourself—no one else can do it for you."

I have to live for myself?

"Besides it's not like it was your fault, it was Beth's," Clo continued.

"Ugh," Beth groaned.

"I—" I stopped myself. I couldn't say anything. "I—"

"But I agree," Beth said, smiling again. "I love how gentle and kind you are, but I also don't want that to be your downfall." Beth jumped down from the table and hugged me.

"I trust that there's a reason you can't tell us," she whispered in my ear, making me stiffen, "but don't worry, I won't press you about it."

She loosened her embrace on me and smiled.

Did I hear what I think I heard?

"Let's go already," Rhiannon said.

"Yes, yes," Clo said, sarcastically. "You sure took some time cleaning one room too. You came minutes after me and only a bit before Shuyan."

Rhiannon didn't reply.

"But you're so lucky!" Beth said. "Mister Silas is such a dandy! More so, he's polite and admits his valet's faults, which is so hard to find in a gentleman now."

I thought about how he apologized to me and Clo yesterday on behalf of Phillip.

"Yes, I understand what you mean," I said.

"Right? He's perfect, not to mention he's most likely to be heir of the estate!"

"That's surprising," Clo said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought a girl like you would be into Augustin."

I looked at her in shock: she didn't use honorifics for Master Augustin.

"Well, he is handsome," Beth went on, also unbothered by how casually Clo called Master Augustin, "but you should see his room! It was a pigsty, full of books and papers and—ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to sneeze again! Mature men are much better. I wonder if Master Eugene is mature."

I almost fell over myself at the mention of his name, but managed to catch myself just in time.

"Who cares, you've been reading too much romance novels if you think anything will happen between a master and maid," Clo retorted.

"You were the one who said they would sleep with us because they are so hungry for women," Rhiannon spoke. It was such a vulgar and sudden thing for her to say that we all turned to her, gaping and frowning.

She stared back at us with her usual unreadable face, eyes lax, eyebrows arched, lips in a straight line.

"Anyways, let's go," she continued when no one said anything. "Clo isn't the only one starving."