Olivier Dampierre Proposed to the Maid!

“Amélie, meet me in the back alley for a moment.”

Georges’s face was white as he whispered. She tried to ask him if he’s sick, if he’s okay, but he’s gone and ran away.

The heat in the kitchen was sweltering, and she needed some fresh air.

“I’m just going to go out for a minute.”

“Sure, just make sure you don’t get caught by the lady.”

“Okay.”

Nodding to the cook, Amelie opened the door to the backyard. Unlike the deafening noise of the kitchen and the hall beyond, the darkness outside was utterly silent.

Amélie crossed the lawn, damp with night dew.

It was a short walk, only a few minutes to the back alley Georges had told her about, but as soon as she was alone, a wave of worry and anxiety washed over her. The court-ordered deadline was fast approaching.

She had given up on writing to his uncle back home. He had several children of his own, and she didn’t want to burden her aunt with her worries.

Then she wondered.. what would happen now.

〈There are so many who have suffered that it won’t be easy.〉

The stern-looking banker had said to her in a guarded tone. There was an opportunity for appeal, but it was merely a formality…

Finally, a shallow sigh escaped from Amelie’s lips. Being a maid was difficult, but it was nothing compared to going to prison.

“Ha…”

A soft night breeze swept past her. It carried the faint scent of flowers, but it was chilly. The tips of the weeping willows on the lakeshore rustled, and the cherry blossoms dripping with rainwater created a stunning night scene.

“It’s pretty.”

Amelie muttered to herself as she walked along, her eyes taking in the scene.

Dozens of lanterns floated serenely on the water, drifting lazily in the breeze. They were the lanterns that Katarina asked to be folded one by one in the morning as they sat in the barrels floating on the water, insisting that the night view was important, even though none of the people present would be interested in this large lake.

Amelie sighed softly as she remembered the wish she’d secretly made when she’d sent it off.

‘Please don’t let me go to jail.’

She didn’t wish for happiness, she was a harsh realist. She just wanted to avoid jail.

Then, with only one lantern left, in desperation, she made one last futile wish.

…I wish money would fall from the sky.

“Amélie Gagnier.”

Just then, a figure slowly stepped out of the darkness and called out to her. Startled, Amélie turned around.

“Who are you?”

“I am the one who called you.”

The man who had stopped at the gap smirked, then took a few steps toward her. Cold moonlight spilled over his face as he stepped out of the shade of the trees.

“Ah…”

Amelie’s face hardened. The man stood there, as handsome as ever, if not more so.

“Long time no see. Are you better now?”

Olivier Dampierre smiled brightly.

“Why are you here..”

Amélie was horrified. She hesitantly backed away, tripping over a tree root and stumbling.

“You were so sharp-tongued that day, but now you’re acting as if you’re scared of seeing a murderer.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Amelie clasped her hands together and bowed her head low.

“Du… Duke. That day I was so ill that I was unable to exercise rational judgement, and so I dared to commit such insolence against you. And now, from the bottom of my heart, I apologise..”

“I didn’t come here to hear an apology.”

Olivier interrupted Amelie.

“What…?”

Her eyes stared blankly at Olivier.

“Then why me, why here…”

“To pay off your debt. 1,700 francs or something?”

Amélie lifted her head, dazed, and looked up at Olivier. Her gaze was confused, as if she was still at a loss.

“I, I…”

Amelie sucked in a breath as she remembered the encounter in the alley. She remembered the look on his face as he read the letter carefully, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Did he think he had caught her weakness?

A huge wave of fear washed over her. I knew countless men who take advantage of their maids’ weaknesses. Did he mean to pay me to be his mistress?

Olivier must have read the fear in Amélie’s eyes, because he frowned.

“I won’t do anything stupid. Amélie.”

“Then..”

“I want you to hold hands with me until sunrise. Then I’ll pay you 1,700 francs.”

“…hand?”

Amelie was even more frightened. Why a hand? Is he a pervert? What is he going to do with my hand?

“No..”

Seeing Amélie’s face turn even whiter than before, Olivier let out a short sigh.

“I don’t know what you’re imagining. I would literally hold your hand, and I would never touch you.”

“But Duke…”

Still, Amelie was uneasy. She hesitated because she was scared, but she still found it hard to believe..

“One thousand seven hundred francs is a lot of money, and I don’t understand why you would only hold my hand…”

“It’s a lot of money for you. It’s not for me.”

Olivier interrupted, gravely.

“Why, is it because you feel a sense of responsibility when there’s a large amount of money involved, that you’re willing to even sell your body? You’re being neglectful.”

“…Then really..”

“I need a maid who will be with me. We’ll walk around here hand-in-hand until the sun rises, with just the right amount of public exposure, and then we’ll leave Ezon for a year, and after that, well, it’s up to you.”

I was speechless. I listened, not knowing what to say. It’s a good thing it’s not in the way a maid fears most…

But why?

“Because I have a weakness.”

Amelie looked at his face, wondering if even a man like Olivier Dampierre could have a weakness for someone.

“I have some frustrations and… I’m going to be away from Ezon for a while to deal with it.”

The only difference between her and him was that she looked pretty nonchalant for someone who’d been cornered…

“So let’s help each other. I’ll reward you appropriately, and you’ll help me.”

“So, what do you want now…”

“To fall.”

He asserted.

“That’s what I want, to fall.”

This was a man who had never experienced failure, judging by the smug grin on his face at that moment.

“Amélie Gagnier. You know that saying?”

The corner of the little duke’s mouth twisted coldly.

“It is a secret pleasure to hold a maid, but it is a disgrace to love her.”

Loving a maid is a disgrace…

Amelie’s gaze plunged downward.

A maid so lowly as to be thoroughly degraded in their world.

But Olivier, gathering himself, spoke.

“I want to be seen as a man who loves a maid. I want to be vilified as the fool who threw his life into the mud, and then be forgotten by the world for a while.”

“…”

“Not some stupid, one-night stand fun. That Olivier Dampierre has gone mad on a maid named Amélie Gagnier, or something.”

Their gazes met in silence in the darkness of the night, dark green eyes fixed on Amélie, waiting for an answer.

“So…”

A shaky voice escaped from Amelie’s lips, her head down the entire time.

“What should I do… If we just hold hands, will I get paid? Will it be over when people find out and leave this house when the sun rises… Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. You and I will never see each other again.”

He replied simply. Amélie watched, mesmerised, as Olivier slowly put on his gloves.

It was as if he was arming himself.

A graceful finger slipped carefully into the glove, and with his other hand he lightly grasped it at the wrist and pulled it open, so that the straight, long fingers and large palm were safely enclosed in the pure white leather glove.

Shaking the hand lightly, Olivier smiled.

“Literally, Amélie. Just the hand.”

Suddenly, Amélie realised why he had emphasised the word ‘hand:’ Duke Dampierre, it turned out, had no heart. He didn’t even seem to want to touch her.

“I don’t think it’s your loss.”

Olivier stalked up to her.

He closed the distance too close, just as he had the last time she’d stood so close to him in the narrow alleyway, and then, looking down at her, he whispered.

“I swear, nothing will really happen between us. And I just want to end this with us holding hands..”

Olivier’s voice trailed off, and he glanced at Amélie.

“There’s no need.”

Amélie’s face contorted. ‘There’s no need…’ The subtlety of the word, the dry, unenthusiastic gaze. It drove a huge nail into her heart.

In other words, Amélie Gagnier, to a noble man, was no better than a dog or some other domesticated animal.

A tool to frighten the nobility, to humiliate and disgrace them, and eventually to get away with a deliberate fall…

“Here, hold it.”

Like a person forced to be exposed to something they don’t even want to touch. His face stiffened, and he held out his hand.

“No.”

Instead of taking his hand, Amelie drew back warily. A prickly voice came out.

“…Money, money first.”