Chapter 4 – Three Meals, Naps, And Bonuses Included

Live-in, three meals provided, two hours of lessons in the morning, two in the afternoon, with additional teaching at the student’s discretion outside those times.

These were the working conditions the duke outlined for the tutor role. The salary: five hundred silver coins per month. The hours were long, but even I, inexperienced, could tell this was an extraordinarily generous wage for a tutor.

Upon hearing the terms, Uncle Dario nearly fainted, and when I explained it to Hanna back at the dorm, she actually collapsed.

“M-Milady… could this be a betrothal… a proposal from His Grace?”

“No way. It’s a legitimate employment contract.”

“B-but Hanna’s served the barony for years, and I’ve never heard of such a salary!”

“Well, our family isn’t exactly wealthy…”

Sorry, I thought, sticking my tongue out at Hanna in my mind. The gap between our finances and the duke’s was beyond comprehension—something only those who’d seen his estate could grasp.

“But unfortunately, I can’t bring a maid. Hanna, please return to the barony and consult Mother for further instructions.”

“What! That sounds even more like a marriage arrangement…”

“What are you saying? If it were a marriage, I could bring my own maid, right?”

“Well, I suppose…”

Whether she resented being sent home alone or clung to her fantasy of my marrying the duke, Hanna frowned.

Anyway, I donned my outdoor hat. Today, I’d move to the duke’s estate and needed to buy essentials in town. My immediate clothes and books were already sent ahead, but I needed simple dishes and elementary school textbooks unused in dorm life.

“I’ll be back by evening. We’ll vacate the dorm the day after tomorrow, so Hanna, please pack your things.”

Leaving Hanna with her furrowed brows, I headed into town.

And then—

Somehow, I ended up sitting across from Chloe at a tea stall after bumping into her at a bookstore.

“Lend me your ear,” she said, dragging me to a stall with unladylike bluntness, ordering grape fruit water. “This might take long—order something.”

“…Your treat?”

“As if.”

Right.

I pointed to the cheapest imperial tea on the menu. Taking the steaming cup, I joined Chloe. Before I could settle, she leaned in.

“So, what’s your deal with Duke Wolfzaine?”

“Huh?”

“You were called to his estate yesterday, weren’t you?”

Though not a secret, her knowing made me flinch. I’d feared trouble if she, eager to network for her future trading company, found out—and she had, so easily.

“H-how did you…?”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Chloe puffed her chest.

“A dorm friend told me. But seriously, a carriage picked you up at the university dorm! And with a male guardian, no less. What’s going on? Are you involved with the duke? Since when?”

Oh, I recalled her friends—some, like Chloe with homes in the capital, others like me, from afar, living in dorms. A country girl lingered post-graduation, it seemed.

“Are you marrying since the civil service exam’s canceled? Giving up your dreams? And aiming for the Wolfzaines—impressive odds!”

“No, it’s not that. I got a job. Yesterday was to discuss the contract.”

“Sure, but the duke’s still single. Using work as an excuse to get close, maybe? Do you think a barony matches a duchy? The Zicklers—country nobles with no capital estate!”

As I pondered my response, Chloe pressed on, her questions veering into rudeness. I knew the mismatch, but what could I do about it?

“Don’t marry right after graduation. I called you a wasted talent. We should use our education—your skills could make you a top scientist or professor.”

“Science and teaching are still male domains—no clear openings, and research needs funds.”

“What rigid thinking!”

This was trouble.

Boiling over, Chloe grabbed my hand across the table. Her concern was appreciated, but why did no one listen?

Maybe Chloe’s slight rudeness about my family meant she didn’t care to hear. My disinterest in networking, now linked to a duke beyond her reach, might irk her.

No, I glanced at her furrowed brows and tense shoulders. Her sisterly worry shone through—her sharp tongue a quirk.

“It’s really just a job. The duke’s my employer. I want to stay in the capital for the exam in two years, and he offered pity employment.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? That exam, it’s paused for a while, isn’t it? On graduation day, you looked so clueless that I was too surprised to even tell you!”

“Yes. I missed the announcement—it’s my fault. I want to take it, avoid returning home where marriage looms. Staying means earning for lodging, and he pitied me.”

Calling it pity softened Chloe’s intensity. She leaned back, arms crossed, sipping her drink.

“I’m to tutor his sister.”

“His sister’s age? Why you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I shared the truth—no point hiding.

“She’s an eleven-year-old, very shy princess. They sought a female tutor, and the president recommended me. That’s all—no engagement or marriage.”

“Oh, good,” Chloe grinned, her open nature shining—simple, unpretentious. Her usual stern air softened, and I smiled too.

Tall with black hair, she’d intimidated underclassmen and distanced boys, playing a tough role with makeup and style for business flair. Yet, she was genuinely kind.

We’d rarely chatted like this. I sipped my tea, still warm, and looked up to see Chloe muttering skyward.

“Something wrong? A business idea?”

Curiosity piqued, I asked. She nodded, leaning in.

“I worried for nothing, but this is an opportunity. Introduce me to the duke—maybe?”

“I doubt I’ll have that chance. It’s just work instructions.”

“Maybe. Just slip my name in. What’s your salary? You could be my client.”

So entrepreneurial. Asking to be a client without knowing her trade was bold, but her tenacity might suit business.

“Uh… I don’t know the market…”

Dodging with a vague smile, her eyes glinted.

“I tutored an Count’s child for a hundred silver coins monthly—elementary level. A duke should pay more. Buy something—send a foreign trader to his estate.”

A hundred for an Count’s child made my throat tighten. Five hundred was indeed lavish.

My pulse raced, recalling the velvet pouch in my bag—a three-hundred-silver advance that nearly floored me. For moving costs, sure, but it was excessive.

A cheap inn cost one silver nightly; meals, even with meat, rarely topped two. Frugally, it could sustain me in the capital for three months.

Why such wealth? Holding it felt dangerous—time to leave before trouble.

“It was a summer gig—exhausting as a playmate. His sister might be easier. So, salary?”

“J-just market rate, I guess…”

“Oh,” Chloe backed off, perhaps planning to push pricier goods.

The Reni Trading Company might source rare items—microscopes, glassware. Curious, but the pouch’s weight unsettled me.

“I should go…”

I really should make my escape before staying any longer and letting her pry into more things. Just as I started to push myself up, Chloe’s hand clamped firmly onto my wrist. Her grinning face, somehow reminiscent of a bird of prey. It’s at times like these, I thought, that Chloe’s vividly colored eyes and hair truly possess a striking presence—a strange observation to make, but then she gave a small, quick beckoning motion.

“We’re not done.”

“W-what…?”

“Where will you get her materials? Use me—I’ll deliver same-day.”

“I can’t decide that…”

“Free delivery and fifty percent off for you if you connect me to the duke. Profit’s worth it with his orders.”

Incredible boldness. A split-second pitch for a win.

“I can’t decide alone.”

“Just link me. You’ll benefit.”

Her sly smile was interrupted by market noise.

“That price is ridiculous!”

A loud voice—likely an older woman’s—stood out. Glancing over, a stout woman gripped a boy, likely a servant, by the collar near a vegetable stall.

“No fooling me! You’re pocketing the difference! A plant?”

“N-no, I just said her amount can’t buy it due to price and discount…”

“Excuses! I’ve shopped here forever—never that price!”

“Ma’am, calm down… these aren’t the usual—maybe a different type…”

The boy, with reddish-black hair and tanned skin hinting at imperial roots, spoke fluent Lemberg tongue. A crowd gathered, but her fury deterred help. The boy paled, shaking his head, while a girl—likely the stallkeeper—flitted nervously.

“A foreign pauper’s word? You’re cheating! To the guards!”

“No, I’m a citizen! Her amount’s too low… selling that would hurt her stall!”

It seemed he’d corrected her math. Unclear if true, her aggression grated.

A price mix-up should’ve been recalculated, but her neat attire belied her intimidation. The boy’s apron was quality—unlikely a scammer.

Before I could think, she yanked him, waving unpaid vegetables.

“W-wait—”

As I half-rose, Chloe’s grip tightened.

“…Leave it. You’ll just embarrass yourself.”

“But he doesn’t seem lying…”

“It’s common since free pricing—women who can’t calculate cause trouble.”

“Then someone should teach them. Where’s the stall help?”

A child facing this was unjust. Shaking off Chloe, I entered the crowd.

“Please wait, ma’am.”

Clinging to her arm, she glared—white-streaked hair disheveled, tanned skin, wide eyes. Older than my mother.

The boy’s face eased slightly.

“Don’t interfere! I’m turning this thief in!”

“I overheard. A pricing issue—tell me the vegetable and amount. I’ll calculate.”

“What? You think I miscalculated?”

“Anyone can err. Let’s recount calmly.”

Smiling—though strained—I aimed to soothe the children.

An adult’s presence calmed the stall girl and boy. She nodded, lifting a bundle of thick-stemmed, broad-leaved vegetables.

“T-this… Dad said three copper per, thirty for ten, but two bundles get thirty percent off… he told me to explain…”

“Usually two copper each!”

“N-no! These are from special soil blessed by the Saintess…”

“Price changes with her prayers? Soil?”

“Y-yes, it’s rare…”

“Still, forty-two copper for two is a rip-off!”

“Wait—ma’am—”

I prefaced, pulling a notebook and pen from my bag, jotting prices.

“three copper per, thirty per ten, sixty for two, minus thirty percent—forty-two copper.”

“Huh?”

“Usually, two copper each, twenty per ten, forty for two. Discount?”

“Twenty percent… Dad said—”

“Twenty off forty is thirty-two copper. A ten-copper gap—due to the price difference.”

She blinked, counting on her fingers.

“The fifty percent higher price felt steep, but it’s correct. Ratios trip up even elementary students—mental math confuses. Write it down.”

I tore a page for the girl. The father should’ve taught her better, but I held my tongue.

With civil service exams opening to civilians, literacy and math skills rose, yet older generations lacked education, and some families prioritized labor over learning. Markets needed math, but untrained stall kids reflected parental neglect.

Shouldn’t education standards align? Watching the children, I heard grinding teeth. The woman, red-faced, loomed.

“Who are you? Some nosy girl aiding paupers? A woman calculating—suspicious! A scam!”

“Huh? No, it’s elementary math…”

Did I explain poorly? As I opened my mouth, the boy interjected.

“Yes! I explained her mistake, but—wow, miss, you’re amazing, so quick…”

His admiration warmed me, but as I started “thanks,” she stomped.

“School, school—so what? Lecturing me with years of market experience—how were you raised?”

“It’s not discipline—it’s ratios, where kids stumble. Noticing price differences helps…”

“Shut it! Don’t rub in my lack of school!”

Oops.

No intent to offend, but I’d hit a nerve.

Furious, she raised the bundle—no time to note unpaid status. The boy shielded me; it crashed, shards hitting the girl’s face.

A scream rippled through the crowd. Chloe joined, shouting. Anyone—guards or her staff—stop her!

“I’ll report you all!”

“Did my servant offend?”

A man’s voice overhead—familiar. A carriage loomed behind. A creak, and he stepped out.

“Young master!”

The boy’s face lit up, bowing.

“Alonso, why so long buying flowers? And Miss Zickler? What’s this?”

It was Eusebio, the Count’s son. The boy, Alonso, was his servant.

Eusebio frowned at me, then faced the woman, bowing with the boy. Tall and broad, he exuded grace—our classmate now a gentleman.

“My servant’s late, so I checked. Any offense, I apologize—ma’am?”

“…N-no…”

His elegant yet firm tone silenced her. Outmatched by a noble, she relented.

“Good. We’ll cover the goods. But if you persist…”

“N-no, I’m done!”

She spat, storming off with the mess. Unconvinced, her stiff back faded, and I relaxed.

Watching her turn the corner, I exhaled. The crowd dispersed; Chloe rushed over.

“Ernesta! Oh my! You’re more reckless and dangerous than you look!”

“Sorry, Chloe. I didn’t expect that.”

“I warned you—proud women won’t learn. Just show the right price.”

Wouldn’t that be called overcharging? I bit back.

“Thanks for the save, Lord Eusebio.”

I bowed with Alonso. Chloe followed, reluctantly. Eusebio scratched his head, embarrassed.

“No problem. The Reni lady too—our Alonso troubled you. Good I came. Alonso, greet them.”

“Thank you,” Alonso bowed, vegetable shards on his shoulder. His bravery shielding me impressed me. I plucked a piece; he blinked.

“Grateful…”

“Alonso, don’t burden Miss Zickler more. I thank you for him.”

“No, I overstepped, taking your time, Lord Eusebio.”

What if she’d persisted? My first taste of uncommunicative dialogue.

Bowing again, Eusebio laughed, patting my shoulder—bold for a public street. As a classmate, it was familiar, maybe.

Unconvinced, I tilted my head. He patted Alonso too, nodding.

“Right, a reward for helping my servant. Visit my estate soon—Father wants to meet you. Lady Reni?”

“I’ll pass,” Chloe snapped, scowling.

I couldn’t commit either—my schedule’s unclear with the new job.

“No need to refuse. The day after tomorrow for a meal—”

“I’m booked,” Chloe elbowed my side—break it off. Wincing, I bent.

“Sorry, I’m busy too—let’s postpone.”

“What’s so busy? Graduation’s done—just return home?”

Normally, I’d avoid rudeness, but I had no room.

“I’m not returning. I’ve a job—settling in will take time…”

“A job?”

His face sobered. I’d mentioned it at graduation—maybe he dismissed it. A rich noble wouldn’t expect a lady to work.

“Yes. Lucky to be employed, I’ll stay in the capital. Thanks, but I’ll be busy…”

“Not returning?”

“No. I have personal reasons to stay.”

“Hmm,” Eusebio stroked his chin, smiling.

“…Figures. I’ll tell Father.”

“Huh?”

“I welcome you. With your mind, you’d excel in estate or trade, supporting me like your research zeal.”

“Huh?”

Another loud “huh.”

Why support him? A huge misunderstanding?

And why’s he friendly lately? Once jealous of my grades, he’s odd since graduation.

Confused, I fell silent. He laughed with Alonso, who nodded.

“No need to blush. Quit that job—come to us. I’ll inform your father.”

No way.

I couldn’t renege on a settled job. I shook my head.

“No thanks. I’m tutoring Duke Wolfzaine’s sister—already took an advance and told Father.”

“That’s it, Lord Eusebio. Let’s go, Ernesta—you’ve shopping left?”

Right, shopping. Forgot with Chloe’s ambush. I needed notebooks and clothes today.

But Eusebio darkened at the duke’s name.

“That cold rumor—the prince’s lackey? Don’t. Tutoring’s beneath a baron’s daughter.”

“No, I’ve met his sister Amelia and agreed.”

“Lackey” recalled the execution—few attended, tying him to the prince. Unchanged now? Fear crept in—I’d avoid the prince.

Deep down, a flicker of doubt smoldered, but I ignored it, sealing it away.

Eusebio, oblivious, shook his head.

“No, avoid it. If you must teach, tutor my brother—easier to introduce you.”

A brother? Chloe scowled. Friction with Eusebio? Business trouble?

Distracted, Eusebio clenched a fist.

“If you don’t get it, I’ll be blunt—I want to marry you.”

“…Huh?”

In the street, this?

Lost, I sought Chloe’s help—her narrowed eyes and loud tsk screamed disgust.

“C-Chloe…?”

“As I thought—disgusting. That’s why I hate you.”

What “scheme”? Her grip hurt—terrifying if mishandled. I wanted out.

Ignoring the tension, Eusebio rambled.

“I knew you noticed me—studying hard, standing before me to catch my eye. I disliked it, but your staying in the capital for me moves me.”

“W-wait, that’s a misunderstanding—I didn’t…”

“But a duke’s daughter needing a tutor is wasteful. Happiness is marriage—find a good husband, bear children. Teach your own—your intellect suits my heirs.”

A well-built, well-dressed man began to give a loud speech, and before I knew it, the customers in the market had gathered around him. They all listened intently, then nodded in agreement, and I noticed their eyes turning to me.

A noble lady shamed? My head burned.

“Thanks, but I won’t marry you!”

A stunned silence fell.

They must not have expected a refusal. Eusebio and Alonso, the pageboy, both froze with blank, puzzled looks. My utter fury clashed with their perfectly normal values, and it was even more infuriating that they seemed utterly oblivious to having offended me. In the sudden silence, only Chloe clapped softly.

Why should some unrelated man offer opinions about my job? Why must I be proposed to in public by someone who utterly fails to understand my feelings? And why should my values be imposed upon me through comments about Amelia’s desire to learn?

Unrelated—a mere Count’s son.

“I chose after meeting Duke Wolfzaine’s sister. Her ambition touched me. I want to help.”

“Well then,” I said, bowing deeply, and ignoring Those master and servant who just looked at me dumbfounded, I turned around and left the market.