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

…And, the fugitive who disappeared carrying the child.

The woman had many names for herself.

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.

Table and her.

Sally felt a sense of intimidation as if she was facing a wall because of his large height and body.

He stared down at the man who had already begun shaking his hands for a moment with cold eyes and then took off his sharp look. His outstretched fingers that were as sharp as his eyes neatly swept over the blonde hair.

“I know that, Sally. You know that’s not what I mean.”

He pressed Sally lightly with a tone that seemed to appeal to a lover before suddenly turning around. The tip of a riding whip in his hand, clad in black leather gloves, pointed to the second lieutenant, who looked like his lieutenant.

“Correct.”

Winston’s eyebrows curled loosely, but the tension in the torture chamber only grew tighter.

Swish. Swish.

The whip in his right hand sharply cut through the chilly air and lightly struck his left palm. Each time, the two soldiers trembled as if they had been hit.

Attention? Winston stopped the whip that had stabbed Fred in the chest, and he walked over to Sally.

“Sally, you don’t have to do this again. Huh? got it?”

“Sniff, yes…”

She tried to wipe away the false tears with her sleeve, but he stopped them. Winston’s hand wrapped around her chin. Shortly, the straight-folded handkerchief gently pressed each tear print to dry it.

Everyone’s eyes widened at the not cold-blooded behavior. Their eyes widened with surprise as he stared down at the handkerchief drenched with the maid’s tears for a moment and then put it in the pocket of his jacket.

He was the one who threw the handkerchief on the floor once he had used it. Whereas this, was nothing else but a handkerchief soaked in bodily fluids of a lowly maid.

“Leave the meal outside from now on.”

“Yes, I will…”

It was a moment when Sally was able to let her guard down with a voice that was as friendly as if teasing a child. Winston’s hand resting on her chin stopped in mid-air before he picked up the thumb of her left hand. His soft eyes set sharp in an instant.

Sally’s blood became cold as she followed his gaze.

…A small piece of eggshell stuck under her fingernail.

He grinned at the pile of eggshells neatly laid out in front of the spy. His eyes were not smiling at all.

Winston’s close-cut fingernails dug under hers. The nails that had entered deep as if they were going to dig through her flesh were brutally twisted.

Sally held back a groan from the pain that crushed her delicate flesh. It was a bad habit for her to endure even when she didn’t need to because the training to endure the pain of torture was ingrained into her body.

Winston silently glanced down at the white shards adhering to the tip of his fingernails and tossed them off.

Cold words flew over her head along with the shells.

“Sally, you’re so kind that it bothers me.”

While cleaning the annex office, tenacious gazes ran over Sally’s body. It felt like a cheap nylon brush was running through her body. The gaze became stinging for a moment as if she felt itchy from time to time.

Without realizing it, she shuddered.

“Captain, if I’m getting in the way, should I clean up later?”

She turned back and asked politely. Winston had just turned his gaze to the papers on his desk.

The tip of a cigar, sandwiched between his fingers, was chewed. He had a golden lighter in his other hand as though he had forgotten to light it.

“No, go ahead. I do my job, you do yours.”

Saying so, he looked down at the paperwork, spitting out the answer from the script in Sally’s head. She shouldn’t leave anyway, so she turned her back and moved the mop. The end of the chewed-up cigar kept running through her mind.

‘Did he imagine chewing something while looking at me?’

Suddenly, the tip of her chest hidden in the thin bra stung and tingled.

Dirty monarchy pig…

Even though she wanted to leave right away, she couldn’t. It was because there was an important task left. What was reassuring was the fact that the two soldiers standing in front of the door were like statues.

She got up on the low chair and slowly wiped the bookshelf. Her calf, which got closer to his eye level, kept tickling.

Should I rather get rid of carpet stains on the back of the sofa?’

While she was thinking, someone knocked on the door.

With Winston’s permission, the door opened and Lieutenant Campbell walked in and saluted.

“Captain, the convoy to Govurn is said to be arriving at three o’clock.”

At the sound of a convoy coming to the camp, Sally was relieved. The uncle didn’t turn away. It was also her job to identify the spies in advance.

“Well… There’s still time. We shouldn’t make our guest bored.”

‘Blood-crazed devil. May you fall down to the hell worthy of you.’

As she heard that there would be another torture, Sally cursed herself.

“Yes, I will prepare right away.”

As Campbell left, Sally walked over to Winston’s desk. It was an excuse to empty the ashtray, though that damn bastard still hadn’t lit his cigar. He just raised his gaze with his head still to the paperwork.

Sally smiled and picked up the tray of empty sparkling water bottles. On the way to the door with a bucket and a tray of cleaning tools, her heart stung once again.

º º º

The screams that had leaked out through the crack in the torture chamber’s door stopped. Then, Fred came out with a pale, blue face. He was clenching his teeth as if he was putting up with nausea. He took the prison uniform from Sally and went inside.

As she pulled a piece of cotton from her ear and put it in her pocket, the letter in the pocket rustled.

When the door opened again, she held a bucket full of cleaning tools in her hands. A group of soldiers poured out and bowed their heads to her. In the middle of it, there was an old man who was more emaciated than at lunch.

In the prison uniform, he was being dragged like cattle with shackles around his limp hands and feet.

Reading the horror in his trembling eyes, Sally gave a determined look on her face without a smile.

‘The rescue team will definitely come.’

When she saw the hem of the gray coat, she immediately drew her attention. Out of the torture chamber, Winston exuded the energy of a man coming out of a brothel or cabaret.

He had a fresh face, relieved of the accumulated desires.

“Then, I look forward to your cooperation today.”

As he tapped Sally on the shoulder and disappeared beyond the hallway, she immediately began cleaning the torture chamber.

The mattress had to be replaced every time a ‘guest’ left. Messed with blood and dirt, she put the mattress out in the hallway and whimpered while taking out a new mattress from the warehouse and putting it on the bed.

Managing the torture chamber was the most arduous and disgusting job in the mansion. Because of that, everyone was reluctant.

However, the weekly wage was also high.

For that reason, it was originally a middle-aged maid with a gambler husband, Ethel, who had been in charge of it for several years.

When Sally first infiltrated this mansion as the maid, she was assigned to attend to Mrs. Winston. Dress shopping, ladies’ refreshments, and Mrs. Winston’s whims and gossip… Truly, as an agent, it had no beneficial value at all.

So, by the time she built her credibility as an excellent working child amongst the employees, she pretended to run out of money because of her ill mother.

Just as expected. The maid chief, Mrs. Bellmore, assigned her to the annex in a hurry. A maid who did her job well was precious, though a maid whose money was scarce was dangerous since Mrs. Winston’s dressing room was full of expensive things.

So, she got along with Ethel and took over the torture chamber, but Ethel started to get suspicious of Sally’s frequent sniffing.

[ “If you’re trying to win the Captain’s favor like that, then stop. Do you know how many children have been kicked out for arguing with the Captain so far?” ]

Fortunately, her original intention was completely undiscovered, though it was bothering the mission. Consequently, she used her head a bit and drove her away.

[ “My distant relative, an uncle, became crazy rich with it. How envious. Occasionally, when he comes to my hometown to play, he pays for my mother’s hospital bills, but I wondered where the old miser went. From the head to the toes, he was so dazzling…” ]

Ethel, who lived on endless debt due to her gambler husband, eyes widened when she heard the story of a gold mine in the New World.

She wasn’t making it up very much. It was the truth that her aunt’s family got rich by the developing gold mining in the New World. She now lived in a big city over the ocean. Her aunt would occasionally send letters to Sally, asking her to live with her, but Sally refused each time.

Step on the weaker and climb higher and higher… Accumulating blood-stained wealth, wears smooth clothes, and eats lavishly.

In a class made of money, they looked no different from the pigs of the monarchy.

The world that Sally’s deceased parents and moreover, the comrades whom she considered family dreamed of were not like that.

[ “The utopia will grow on the blood of the revolutionary army and bear fruit.” ]

Sally recalled the slogan, which she had chanted frequently since childhood. Literally, the blood of the revolutionary army was stuck between the black stone floors.

As she scraped it off with the brush, the letters in her pocket were rustling.

[ “I want Sally to be my daughter.” ]

Mrs. Appleby used to lament to Sally, who waited for her at 5 pm every day.

[ “My daughter only sends letters on Easter and Christmas.” ]

When the mail carriage came to the Winston mansion, she rushed to the door and held out a piece of letter. Mrs. Appleby thought it was a letter to her mother in the hospital. Only she and the postman, Peter, knew that the secret code to her comrade was actually hidden in the sweet and imaginative text.

Hidden in today’s letter was the message that the Uncle was moving to the Govurn camp.

The convoy has already left. Although she thought she should call the branch right away, the mansion’s phone could be tapped. The phone would be placed as soon as Peter returned to town.

It was a five-hour drive from here to the Govurn camp. In the meantime, there was enough time for the rescue team near Govurn to set up a rescue operation and wait. Perhaps, the uncle would return to the arms of his comrades before he even arrived in downtown Govurn.

Eventually, she came out of the torture chamber, which smelled of disinfectant and bleach.

Entering the hallway and turning the corner, there was a laundry chute that led up to the top floor of the annex. She opened the drawer and filled the basket with blood-soaked laundry.

As she was on her way to the laundry room in the main building with a full basket—

“Miss Bristol.”

At the sound of the voice suddenly pouring over her head, Sally missed the basket and the willow basket fell to the floor.

“…Captain?”

When did he come? She couldn’t hear any footsteps.

She turned her head up, and the hot breath touched the back of her exposed neck.

Goosebumps welled up on Sally’s forearm.

The tip of his nose dug under the sparsely fine hair. Her legs trembled as Winston inhaled with his nose buried in her skin. She wanted to escape, but she was blocked by cold walls and the hot walls of blood and flesh.

“Sally, you smell good.”

All that came from her was the smell of blood and disinfectant.

He then took one step closer.

Sally’s heart, trapped between the wall in her mouth and between Winston’s chest, pounded in a thump.

‘Dangerous… This is dangerous.’

A hard object pierced between her hips as she pushed the wall with her hands. It was easy to tell that it wasn’t a pistol. The heat that could not be stopped even with several layers of cloth warmed Sally’s delicate skin at will.