Ilse Kallenberg was a fortunate girl.
Born to a father who held a Count title, Ilse came into the world in a manor on his territory in the south-central part of the Kingdom of Deigeln, and was raised warmly by loving parents.
Ilse had an older brother and sister, both much older than her. Her sister had married when Ilse was an infant, so they were barely acquainted. When Ilse was born, her brother was already married.
The wide age gap was due to a circumstance. Ilse’s mother was her father’s second wife, and she had originally been an actress in the neighboring western country of Arnreich.
Moved by her father’s ardent courtship, her mother retired from acting and moved to Deigeln. Her father, who had been single for about ten years after losing his first wife, but he seems to have noticeably brightened up after taking a new wife.
Even in her daughter’s eyes, her mother and father appeared close.
Her mother used to say, “I just wore down under his persistence” but her voice had a softness that showed she had given her heart to her husband.
It was a marriage entered into by their own free will, not the kind of “stepmother arrangement” her half-brother tried to force upon Ilse later.
The manor on the estate was, therefore filled with warmth.
Her father, the Count, was said to have mellowed in his semi-retirement and he often strolled around the estate with her mother and spoke cheerfully to the servants.
Her mother, having married into a noble family, lived a relaxed life on the estate under her father’s protection, with only minimal social obligations, and was actively involved in raising Ilse.
Showered in the love of her kind parents, Ilse grew up healthy in the manor on the territory.
The moment reality crashed down on Ilse was when her mother died of illness, and just over a year later, her father weakened and followed her in death. Still Ilse was fourteen years old.
Her brother, who inherited the Count title, openly treated Ilse as a troublesome daughter.
Even though we’re half-blood, her mother was a commoner actress. She has no backing.
“It’s utterly repulsive to have commoner blood mixed into the Kallenberg family. I tolerated it, thinking it was an old man’s folly, but he had to have a child as well. I won’t hand over any property to you.” He said with looking down on Ilse as if she were some kind of vermin.
When Her father was alive, he had often said, “Even after I’m gone, I’ll make sure Ilse and your mother don’t lack for anything.”
By the time she was ten, Ilse understood that “not lacking for anything” meant he would leave them enough money to live without worrying about shelter or food.
Her father had been forty-eight when he married her mother. The average male lifespan at the time was around sixty. He must have been worried. As it turned out, her mother, who suffered from cancer, passed away first.
When her father died, and her brother inherited the title and the family fortune, many changes swept over Ilse.
She was also made to understand that her father’s second marriage and her very existence were not accepted by their relatives.
She had vaguely sensed this as she grew up, but the elderly servants at the manor had all been kind to her and her mother, so she considered her distant half-siblings to be remote figures.
After her father’s death, her brother seized all the land deeds and cash savings her father had personally set aside for Ilse and threw her into a boarding school attached to a convent.
If Ilse’s mother had been born to a local magnate, a military man, or a well-off merchant even if not a noble, the things might have been different.
Her mother, a native of the neighboring country, rarely spoke of her family. She must have had her reasons.
The claims of a young girl with no backing meant nothing in the adult world. Her brother, having dismissed her father’s attorney, simply stripped Ilse of her rights.
Imprisoned in the so-called cage of the boarding school, Ilse realized that her own misfortune which had made her cry as if she were at rock bottom, it was not so uncommon.
The convent boarding school had quite a few girls who were sent there, not just for “manners training,” but also as a way to get rid of them.
The reasons varied: the daughter of the ex-wife is a nuisance; I’m afraid the child isn’t my husband’s; he can’t take care of his brother’s daughter who was sent to a far-off foreign country, and so on.
The girls, confined to the cage of the boarding school, comforted one another in their similar circumstances.
No matter how much they crying or being pessimistic wouldn’t change their situation. The outside world wasn’t kind enough for a child with no property or backing to survive alone.
The nuns taught the girls good manners, chastity, and piety, but not how to get by along in the world.
These girls, who technically had high social status but no means, were not even allowed to seek employment that was considered “dishonorable.”
This was because the range of professions considered acceptable for their class was highly limited.
If they tried to become a seamstress, a mess hall attendant, or take on household chores like laundry, their relatives would oppose it, saying, Think of your reputation!
Are you trying to bring shame upon us?
As a result, Ilse and the other boarders were forced into a cage-like existence until a family member came for them.
Chime, chime, a bell sound drifted in from somewhere.
Is that the afternoon class?
she thought it, before realizing she was staring at a familiar ceiling.
“…I had a nostalgic dream.”
The sound she heard wasn’t the bell for afternoon class, but the ringing of a small bell signaling wake-up time.
After washing her face with the water brought outside her room, she carefully combed her hair.
She took off her nightclothes and donned a simple dark-blue dress. It was virtually no decorations, save for perhaps the fabric-covered buttons sewn onto the front.
She gathered her milky-tea-colored hair into a bun at the back. Wrapping a ribbon around it was her only allowed indulgence. A maid must not outshine than her master, and she must be more modest than the senior Court Ladies or maid of higher ranks. This was the wisdom required to survive in an all-female workplace.
She started her job as a maid around the time she was about to turn seventeen. Surprisingly, her half-brother suddenly appeared, took her out, and brought her to the palace.
He said he would make Ilse a maid for the Second Princess as part of a political performance. Ilse was skeptical that it could be so easy, but thanks to the current Count’s recommendation, she secured the position without difficulty. Oh right, she recalled her father was the former Count before.
Although she was dragged around by her half-brother’s selfishness, once she started working, the job suited Ilse well.
Life in the palace quarters was an extension of the boarding school, and as she gained experience, she was entrusted with more duties and earned Heidmarie’s trust.
Even though she had no say in the beginning, she had somehow grown to take pride in her work as a maid.
“Ilse, can I have a moment, please.”
After the morning work was done, her master, Heidmarie, called her name.
Ilse had already apologized to Lady Frisch, her direct supervisor’s supervisor, for her abrupt leave yesterday and explained that the matter was nothing for Heidmarie to worry about, but was the Princess still feeling worried?
(Her Highness Heidmarie’s voice sounds somewhat strained…)
Ilse replied cautiously, harboring a slight suspicion.
“Is something I can help you, my lady?”
“Everyone except Lady Frisch, please leave the room for a moment.”
At her command, those present quietly left.
Heidmarie sat down on the settee in the center of the room and motioned toward Ilse. “You sit here too.”
Heidmarie, with some of her brown hair tied back with a ribbon and the rest flowing down her back, was wearing her favorite light-green indoor dress.
She lacked her usual fresh, vibrant energy, and her gray-green, peridot-like eyes looked somewhat wistful.
In times like this, Ilse, the maid, was not permitted to speak. She could only wait for her master to begin.
“Ilse, you want to attend the next ball, right?”