Olivier Dampierre Proposed to the Maid!

The apprentice maids raised their innocent eyes and glanced at a stunned Mrs Maxine.

“Then, will Amélie marry the Duke of Dampierre? Can a maid really be a duchess?”

“I don’t know.”

Maxine wondered if she was too young to realise the gravity of the situation, or if she was envious of Amélie, who had escaped her master’s lashing by being protected by the precious Dampierre name.

Maxine kept her mouth shut and kept walking. She was going to let it happen. Like ducklings following their mother, the apprentice maids followed closely behind.

That this was not a normal marriage proposal, everyone except for the clowns chattering behind her would have known.

It could be a genuine proposal, or it could be a well-choreographed play. Either way, it’s just a cheap show, unworthy of the prestigious family.

Maxine frowned. She’d seen Olivier Dampierre’s heated glare in the dark. For a moment, she wondered if he was serious.

But if it was true love, did he really care about Amélie Gagnier? Was his light-hearted proposal really the way to treat his beloved?

In the end, Amélie Gagnier will be miserably abandoned after being cubed here and there among the nobles.

Maxine rubbed the back of her head as she endured the insults. Whether he meant it or not, it didn’t matter. SHe didn’t care about Amélie’s future.

Why are gentlemen, nobles, and people who think themselves above others so cruel? It’s painful to see history repeating itself in such a gruesome way, and it’s even more agonizing to know that she can’t protect those innocent children. And this time, it was none other than Amélie Gagnier who became the sacrificial lamb…

* * *

The spring sun was hot. The backyard, strewn with tablecloths that had been washed by the maids since dawn, was filled with white waves.

Amélie and Mrs Maxine sat side by side on the steps. Denise entered, leaving two cups of tea. Their eyes had met several times earlier, but Denise didn’t give Amélie a second glance. Instead, she moved away, sending up a cold breeze.

“Leave her alone. She’s still confused.”

Rumours of Amélie’s near-death experience at the hands of the Master had been spreading through the manor all morning.

But those who felt sorry for Amélie quickly changed their tune when they learnt that she had received a ‘proposal of marriage’ from the Duke of Dampierre.

At this moment, even as she sat on the stairs with Mrs Maxine, the sound of the kitchen bustle drifted nakedly through the slightly open window.

“They’ve known each other for a while, and she’s been so coy about it, my God.”

“He wouldn’t propose on the first date. The two must have had something going on.”

“But since when? How can she be so deceitful?”

And among those who were so firmly misled was Amélie’s friend Denise.

Amélie hung her head low. She wished she could have asked what was going on, but she wasn’t in a position to explain.

Mrs Maxine, seeing the look in Amélie’s eyes, asked gravely.

“Amélie, what has happened?”

Amélie didn’t know what else to say, so she sipped her tea. All she wanted to do was lie down with the duvet over her head.

“I… I want to go home, ma’am.”

“Home?”

Mrs Maxine arched an eyebrow in confusion. Under her worried gaze, Amélie forced a smile.

“Anyway, even if I try to persuade her to continue working here, Lady Katarina won’t allow it, and I also have a promise…”

Mrs Maxine squeezed Amélie’s shoulder.

“Tell me, did you have something to do with the little duke, and did he approach you to pay your debt?”

““…At least, I don’t have to go to jail.”

Amélie smiled bitterly, unable to answer Mrs Maxine’s question.

Amélie clutched the hem of her apron tightly. The cheque she had tucked deep inside rustled.

“He paid off my debt.”

“Amélie, you…”

Mrs Maxine’s expression hardened, her face instantly white as she grabbed Amélie’s arm and looked her up and down.

“Surely, Amélie. He, he’s the one who did this to you!”

“No, no, Madame.”

Amélie stole a tear from her eye that was about to redden and laughed.

“He didn’t touch me. He kept his word like a gentleman… But I have to stop working here and leave.”

Her father’s debt was gone, and that was all that mattered. Amélie Gagnier would not have to go to jail. She left like she was running away, and she was hurt. But the scariest moment of her life had already passed.

And that was enough.

“Thank you for everything, Mrs Maxine.”

Amélie left her teacup and stood up quietly. There was still half a cup of steaming tea left.

“I really liked this house… I was able to get along well thanks to good people. Thank you.”

Amélie’s face contorted. A mixture of inexplicable emotions rushed through her at once. Once she burst into tears, they were not easily contained.

“Oh, my God, this…”

At a loss for words, Mrs Maxine wiped Amélie’s eyes with her blunt fingertips. She, too, was in hot tears.

“Okay, there must have been a reason for you to go this far… At least your father’s debt is resolved, thankfully. Let’s just focus on that.”

Amélie nodded through her tears.

“Later, I’ll explain leter. Everything…”

“Fortunately, it’s good that we don’t have to repay the debt. Right?”

“Yeah, I’ll only think about that.”

Maxine hugged Amélie tightly. Amélie cried out the last of her tears in that embrace, then smiled and waved goodbye.

* * *

Amélie pulled out the old suitcase she’d been using in place of a wardrobe. It was the only bag she had when she came into this house.

She had everything she owned in that bag. It didn’t take long for it to fill up. Pajamas with holes in the elbows, old underwear, three outfits, two hats, a diary and writing tools.

She gathered up all the beaded bracelets and fake pearl clothespins from Katarina’s room as a child and threw them in the bin.

Eight years in this house, and this is all I have. It was almost laughable.

Amélie tucked her severance package into the bottom drawer, grabbed her hat and bag, and took one last look around the room.

“…”

It was an unwanted ending, but it was strictly a mutual agreement. Amélie would receive 2,000 francs, and the little duke would carry out his plans.

Yes, he was a gentleman.

He even promised her that after that night was over, they would never be involved again.

Still, Amélie’s heart broke.

He’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, his gaze as if she were some kind of great mercy, his arrogant demeanour.

‘It is a disgrace to love a maid.’

The words stuck with her.

If it was the Grand Opera that scarred Amélie’s childhood, it was a fleeting encounter with Olivier Dampierre that broke her heart at the age of nineteen.

The whole world would point fingers and laugh at her, but Amélie actually wanted a man like Olivier Dampierre more than anything.

She’d been hiding it from herself.

She wanted to be with a nice, proper man, an equal. She wanted to have a better life…

When the maids quarreled over the portrait of Olivier Dampierre in the newspaper, Amélie wanted to see the man for herself.

When the other maids talked about him, half in jest, Amélie Gagnier would imagine in detail what it would be like to really meet such a man.

But always, always, those thoughts frightened and terrified her. She felt like she was doing something out of her league…

“…”

Amélie took a deep breath to calm herself. Maybe that was why. She felt terribly ashamed of herself in front of Olivier Dampierre, whom she had met by a sudden stroke of good fortune…

The way he stared down at her, saying, “There’s no need.” shattered her. It was as if the heavens were punishing her for her impudence.

Lost in thought for a while, Amélie got out of bed. Her eyes wandered back to the cramped maid’s quarters beneath the roof.

It was a miserable home, but perhaps she would have been better off as a farmer, or as a clerk in a small shop.

Instead of being tormented by unattainable desires, she chose to be grateful. The sting would heal in time, and she would move on with her life.

You can do it, Amélie Gagnier.

Patting herself on the back, she squared her shoulders and picked up her suitcase.