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“My lady, may I discuss the preparations for the celebratory banquet?”

Raisa, the housekeeper who oversaw the female servants, had come to Ekaterina’s room and spoke thus.

“Of course, go ahead.”

When Ekaterina replied, Raisa set down the ledgers she was carrying with a thud on the table and sat down opposite her. Ignoring Regina, the enormous hound gazing up from Ekaterina’s feet, she took out her spectacles and put them on.
The silver frames glinted.

Ah, this one’s serious.

That thought was correct.

The number of guests and the main attendees.
The types and quantities of food and drink to be served.
The grade, type, and preparation procedures for the tableware required. Especially the silverware. Arranging personnel and time for polishing beforehand.
The hospitality arrangements and their sequence.
Which rooms would be opened for the banquet, and how the other sections would be secured.
How many carriages are expected and where should they wait?
Where should the guests’ attendants wait?
The placement of servants, the arrangement of temporary staff, and their assignments.
And the cost for each. Include an explanation of why it is appropriate.

This is a marathon! I’m getting a runner’s high! Alright, one more push!

This personality is probably what killed me from overwork in a past life.

“Raisa, wait a moment. The attendants accompanying our guests have been waiting this long, yet we stopped providing them food and drink eight years ago, correct?”
“Yes, we were instructed to avoid such unnecessary expenses ever since Lord Aleksandr inherited the title”

…This must be one of those embezzled expenses too. On the financial ledgers, it was probably recorded as having been provided.

“I want this restored. If arrangements can be made even now, please serve food and drink as it was in my grandfather’s time.”
“Yes, my lady. I shall arrange it accordingly.”

A satisfied smile seemed to flicker across Raisa’s lips as she responded.

“You wanted me to say that, didn’t you? That’s why you specifically wrote here that it hasn’t been served for eight years.”

Ekaterina smiled.
Just then, a cup of tea was offered.

“Please rest a moment, my lady. You’re overworking yourself.”
“Thank you, Mina.”

She took it, took a sip, and was surprised to realize how parched her throat had become.

“Here you are.”
“…Thank you.”

Mina offered a cup to Raisa as well. Her expression was impassive as usual. Raisa accepted it, looking slightly startled.
Regina had moved a little way off and was sprawled out, stretched out at length. She seemed to be fast asleep.

“Here, the housekeeper’s duties cover such a wide range. At the Imperial Residence, these tasks would have been the butler’s responsibility.”
“Sir Novaras is of advanced age, so I’ve gradually been taking over more duties. Does the butler at the Imperial Residence discuss these behind-the-scenes matters with you, my lady?”
“It’s the mistress’s duty, after all. Besides, I don’t dislike the behind-the-scenes work either. It’s enjoyable to learn how many people are working behind the scenes at a glamorous party, and what preparations are needed for each detail.”

Being a history nerd in my past life, this feels like getting the first-hand account of behind-the-curtain scenery for parties for royalty and aristocrats that often appeared in Western history, and that’s fun. This is a field that’s hardly seen many records and hard to understand.
Come to think of it, in Japanese history, there was a scholar who found the household accounts of a certain samurai family. In the prologue of his book about it, he wrote about how incredibly excited he was. Like, “This is rare, super valuable! Good job finding this, me!” Later, when it was made into a movie, the lead actor bluntly said things like, “The prologue is just endless bragging.”

Raisa snickered hearing Ekaterina’s answer.

“What sir Graham wrote in his letter was true. The young lady bears a certain resemblance to Lord Sergei.”

At those words, Ekaterina’s eyes widened.
It was possible that Graham, the butler at the Imperial Residence, and Raisa, the housekeeper at the duke’s main residence, might exchange letters. For business purposes, mainly. But he wouldn’t write that Ekaterina resembled her grandfather if it were merely business.
So, were the two of them close enough to correspond privately?

“You have a connection with Graham, Raisa?”
“I’ve known him since the days he was Lord Sergei’s valet. And my background has some similarities to sir Graham’s. I hear he told you about his past. That he was a traveling performer.”
“…Yes.”
“I was a laundress. A working hand of the lowest order.”

.

Raisa began working at Jurnova Castle when she was just eight years old.
Her village had been attacked by magical beasts, and her parents were killed. It was a year of particularly fierce blizzards, even for the harsh winters of the duchy. Normally, she would have been taken in by relatives or sent to an orphanage. But her relatives in the village had no means to take her in, and there was no room even at the orphanage.
Precisely due to the bad year, in order to provide a place for children who were left out of orphanages, wealthy households of the provincial capital were encouraged to offer live-in-work for children. Being the ruling house, Jurnova naturally took the lead in taking children in. By sheer luck, Raisa happened to be chosen.

Though forced to work at such a young age, Raisa understood even then that she was fortunate. She also knew that if she lost that fortune, she would starve and freeze to death.
So she worked as hard as her small body could manage.
Laundry was hard labor. Yet, working as a laundress at Jurnova Castle wasn’t a hardship.

The castle had an underfloor heating system. Warm air circulated through pipes laid beneath the floors, heating the entire vast ducal residence. This warm air was generated by fires burning in several furnaces deep within the castle’s basement. The laundry room was also located in the basement. The drying room was also underground, utilizing the warm air to dry the laundry.
Therefore, even in winter, she never felt cold. The fires used for heating also boiled large quantities of water, so the castle had not only a large bathhouse for the duke’s family but also bathing facilities for the servants. Not only could she bathe daily in a spacious tub, but the leftover bathwater could be used for laundry, so her hands never grew numb from cold water.

Though Raisa had no way of knowing it at the time, the underfloor heating system originated in the ancient Astra Empire and was developed by a renowned inventor invited from another country by Vasily, the fifth Duke of Jurnova. It was the primary heating method in the Northern Capital, and Jurnova Castle’s system was among the finest in the empire.

What an incredible place.
The awe she felt the first time she stepped into Jurnova Castle’s laundry room would stay with Raisa forever. In the dead of winter, a sweat-inducing heat rose from the room. Compared to the small houses in the tiny village where she was born and raised—houses where water left inside would freeze on winter mornings—it felt like another world.

She began working and washed countless garments. By the time winter ended and spring arrived, the clever and dexterous Raisa was even allowed to handle some of the duke’s family’s clothes. A frail child was actually ideal for washing delicate silk shirts and such.

And so, she found herself tilting her head in puzzlement almost daily. For there was one person in the household who brought back terribly soiled clothes.
It was Lord Isaac Jurnova—Eighteen years old at the time. The young master, who had just returned after graduating from the Imperial Capital’s Magic Academy, somehow always had clothes covered in mud, like a toddler playing in the dirt.

Isaac was somewhat looked down upon at Jurnova Castle. He had apparently been an unusual child since long ago, gathering countless ordinary stones every day and piling them up in his room. He also seemed to have learned to read and write quite late. Because of this, even the laundry room servants mocked him, saying, “Unlike his splendid older brother, that one is a bit odd, you know.”

Raisa was indignant.
The Duke is our benefactor. How awful to mock his son! Most of the servants can’t read or write at all. What right do they have to speak that way about someone who managed to learn?

And so, the eight-year-old child made a decision.
Alright, I’ll ask Lord Isaac to be careful not to get his clothes dirty. So he won’t be mocked by everyone.

Looking back as an adult, how foolish it seems. A laundress’s place is underground. By comparison, Lord Isaac, though a b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲ son, was a member of the duke’s household, a being from the heavens. One shouldn’t even speak to him, let alone show one’s face.
But the country-raised child didn’t know that.
And then, by chance, she spotted them. Two men in splendid attire walking in the garden. She didn’t know Isaac’s face, but he recognized him by his clothes. One of them was Lord Isaac.

Without hesitation, she ran up, bowed her head, and begged. *“Please don’t get your clothes dirty. Silk can’t be washed with force, so it’s really hard to get the stains out.”* She desperately explained the washing method she’d been taught.
For a laundress to do such a thing to the duke’s son, it would have been no surprise if she’d been beaten until her whole body swelled up and thrown out. Yet she seemed utterly unaware of this obvious fact.
Isaac listened silently to Raisa’s words, then slumped his shoulders dejectedly and sighed.

*“I’m sorry. I’m a hopeless fool. When rare minerals call out to me from the earth, I can’t resist digging them up. But I had no idea I was causing trouble for a little girl like you. From now on, I’ll only do it when I’m wearing clothes that can get dirty.”*

Here too, Raisa was fortunate. Lord Isaac was certainly an odd fellow, full of strange words and deeds, utterly incapable of noble manners. Yet he was childlike in his innocence and kindness.

And the other gentleman—tall and imposing—patted Lord Isaac on the back and smiled at Raisa.

*”My apologies for the troubles my brother brought you. But still, how remarkable. You’re the first to convince Isaac why he shouldn’t soil his clothes. So young, yet so skilled at explaining things. A clever girl, indeed. How old are you? What’s your name?”*

Those were the first words Lord Sergei ever spoke to Raisa.