Chapter 1

A good maid, a cunning spy, a heartbreaking first love, and the daughter of an enemy to kill.

…And, the fugitive who disappeared carrying his child.

The woman had many names for herself.

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The moment she opened the kitchen door, the smell of various ingredients and hot steam hit her. The maids were busy preparing lunch, not even having time to look back at who opened the door.

To be honest, there was no need to look back.

Because it was an ordinary maid who stepped into the kitchen, where the sound of knives and oil sizzled. A black maid's uniform brushed the tip of her knees, a spotless white apron, and plain dark brown hair. It was a look as common as a crystal chandelier in the Winston mansion.

The maid picked up a wooden tray, a soup plate and a spoon from the cupboard. She went to the cupboard lined with colorful canned goods and picked up a white loaf and two boiled eggs from the basket, when someone spoke to her.

"Are the guests from the annex still there?"

The chef, Mrs. Appleby, clicked her tongue as she took the freshly baked meat pie out of the oven. The young maid, as usual, pretended to be sullen and pouted her lower lip slightly.

"That's right. Still, I think they might go out today."

"Tsk, tsk. Sally, you are really having a hard time."

Mrs. Appleby placed the meat pie on a large table in the middle of the kitchen and held out her empty hand to the maid named Sally.

"Give it to me."

The woman who took the empty soup bowl opened the large pot next to the stove, and when it had cooled down, she filled it with clam soup and placed it on Sally's tray. The only thing floating in the bowl was crumpled scraps of ingredients.

"I can't believe you're doing that tough job without Ethel alone."

Ethel was a middle-aged maid who, up until a month ago, was in charge of the 'private room' in the basement of the annex with Sally. She now dreamed of making a fortune with her husband, a gambler, and would be boarding on a ship heading to a new continent.

Although she felt sorry for Sally when she was left alone with the disgusting and reluctant job of all the employees of the Winston mansion, she never said she would help. So, Sally was relieved.

"Speak well to Mrs. Belmore—either she gets another person or gives you a higher salary."

"Yes, I should see it."

But, Sally was never going to get such a favor from the maid chief.

She then grabbed the tray and walked out the side door to the west of the mansion. A gravel path continued through the neatly mowed green grass. Before long, the annex, which seemed only small, became so close that the sharp barbed wire on the wall was clearly visible.

In the clear spring of cherry blossom leaves, the annex alone exuded the gloomy energy of winter. It was no wonder. It was like a haunted house over there, where screams resounded through the basement.

Sally wet her dry lips and raised the corners of her lips as she saw the soldiers standing guard at the front door of the outhouse.

"Hello, Martin."

"Hello, Sally."

The soldier she saw every day opened the iron door straight away without asking anything.

Sally walked slowly to the entrance to the annex, squinting every nook and cranny of the front yard. There was no car of the mansion's owner, Captain Winston. It meant he hadn't returned from the unit yet.

Great.

She went straight into the building and went down to the basement. She walked along the hallway to the left as if she was accustomed to it. The soldier who stood guarding the iron door in the middle of the hallway opened the door as soon as he saw Sally.

The strict security was threefold. In other words, there is one more group left to go through.

As she turned the corner to the right, two soldiers were sitting on chairs, chatting.

"Hello."

"Hello, Sally."

Across from the soldier, a black and crude iron gate was firmly locked. It was a place that exuded an aura that was far from the luxurious mansion annex.

"Did you two have dinner?"

Sally walked over to the soldiers and smiled, curling the corners of her eyes.

"No, we haven't eaten yet…"

The Private, who had the name 'Fred Smith' on his chest, received a squinting eye from the Corporal sitting next to him.

"I'll get it from the main building soon."

At the time of full hunger, a talk about a meal and the smell of soup wafted through, so there was no one who wouldn't bite the bait.

"What's on the menu today, Sally?"

"It's meat pie. As soon as I opened the kitchen door, I could smell the fragrant smell. I was dripping with saliva."

The Corporal's hazy eyes flashed for an instant.

"Ah… If I'm late again this time, won't there be none?"

The Private, who had not yet taken off his boyish appearance, glanced at the Corporal and hinted. Then, he immediately gave Sally a daunting gaze. His eyes were like a puppy asking for praise, though she pretended not to see it and stared only at the Corporal's face.

"Damn it… I'm tired of consommé soup…"

Those who did not know would say that a man who was tired of high-end cuisine knew nothing of gratitude.

Still, if they give a strong young man a soup with only chicken meatballs and a few pieces of vegetables for lunch, he couldn't help but complain.

The practice of generously providing expensive meals to ordinary soldiers who were not officers was in fact rooted in the vanity and coldness of Mrs. Winston, and there was no reason to be grateful for Sally.

"I don't think she cooked a lot… You should go to the dining room quickly before it's too late. I will lock the door."

The Corporal made a troubled face as Sally shifted the tray into one of her hands and pulled a black key out of her pocket.

"The captain said I shouldn't let Sally in alone…"

There was a hint with just a tap from the blurry words that it would tilt to one side.

At that, Sally pricked her eyebrows as if she didn't mind it, and she smiled.

"It's okay. I don't think the guest is violent. I'll just leave the tray and bring the laundry and come out right away. Greg is out there as well."

She glanced at the soldier who was guarding the iron gate over the corner. Only then did the Corporal pretend to reluctantly get up.

"Smith, let's go."

As the two men disappeared around the corner, Sally took the key to the heavy iron door. With a squeak, the door let out a sharp creak and retreated inside. The smell of fishy blood flowed out of the gap two spans wide.

Sally wet her dry lips again and placed her hand into the darkened room.

She immediately grabbed her switch in her hand. The next moment, all four lights turned on at the same time with a click, but the room didn't get very bright. It was because the walls, as well as the floor and ceiling, were all black.

As the lights turned on, a middle-aged man crouching on a narrow bed on one wall trembled. Sally quickly entered the 'private room,' and she closed the door.

"Uncle, it's me."

The 'guest in the private room,' who had been hardening his whole body, let out a long sigh and relaxed. It was still blinding. Even though he hasn't seen Sally's face, he must have heard her voice.

The man's appearance was no joke. She had seen countless times where lively faces dry and twisted like a corpse the moment they stepped into this room.

However, her heart hurt even more since the face was the village uncle she had known since childhood.

"I brought you food."

She walked over to the little table at the foot of the bed.

Meanwhile, the man tried to get his body up, although he couldn't even get up and groaned in pain. Placing the tray on the table, she quickly approached the man. Sally didn't say anything while she supported him and sat him in the chair in front of the table.

She knew now because she had been through it many times…

She knew that she could be a catalyst for cheap consolation to a person who was enduring all kinds of terrible torture with a thread of mind and stamina.

When she silently gave the spoon to him, she then began to peel the hard-boiled egg. The man couldn't even do the simple task of cracking eggshells because he had all his nails pulled out.

"What happened last night? Last night there was a party in the main building, and I was called…"

"Nothing."

Cough, cough.

As the man started coughing, Sally poured water into a cup from the kettle on the table. He was still lucky, though because he was allowed one meal a day and water. There were times when they didn't even give them water, let alone food.

His dry throat clenched, and the cough was quelled. Sally quickly pulled a vial out of her pocket before he picked up the spoon again.

"Eat this."

It was an analgesic potion with morphine. As the man opened his mouth as if waiting, Sally let a drop of painkiller into his mouth.

She hid the vial again in her pocket and cracked the eggs. In the meantime, she kept talking to the man busy eating the soup. There was no time to wait until the meal was finished since they had to finish the conversation quickly before someone came in.

"You didn't say anything at all, right?"

The man stopped his spoon and raised his head. There was fierce contempt in his eyes.

This happens every time.

Sally's question to her colleague, who had been tortured for several days, was something she should be unwilling to ask. Was she interrogating? Was she monitoring? They could even make such an illusion.

Nonetheless, she couldn't help it either. If there was any leaked information, she needed to know it as soon as possible to deal with it. It could endanger not only the uncle, but also the lives of others.

"You know you have to be honest with me, right?"

"…Nothing."

The man stared at Sally for a long time before bowing his head to the bowl of soup and spitting out the answer.

"I think we will move around today. I'll send someone as soon as I find out where it is. So, never open your mouth and be patient. You know? People in the rescue team don't want to know about failure…"

It was the time when she poured out her last request.