Assassination Begins With Gaining Favor as a Maid Chapter 3: Your Name

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Chapter 3: Your Name


“Whew…”


Finally done walking around this huge estate. Armand waved off the servants casually, loosened his shirt collar, and hung his coat on the rack inside the room. He let out a long breath.


“So, how does it feel? This is your very own estate, a royal gift. Just look at the furniture, the decorations, and even that big training field. Once we hang the royal banner of the Crown Prince, it’ll look so grand.”


The old butler looked at Armand sitting on the edge of the bed with a proud, almost emotional expression, like a parent watching their child finally grow up and succeed. 


He thought back fondly to how Armand had started as a wandering boy and, in just a few short years, had fought his way up to become the leader of the knights.


“Yeah, yeah... That royal banner is so flashy. If someone had explosives, they’d know exactly where to aim.”


Armand leaned on his arm and looked out the window, sounding a little careless.


The servants in the courtyard were busy running around preparing dinner for the first night, and the knights who came with him were excitedly checking out their commander’s impressive new house. Some single knights were even getting ready to chat with the maids and introduce themselves.


“Can’t you think more positively? It’s not that dangerous.”


The old butler stood beside Armand, letting out a soft sigh, his tone full of concern.


“The bigger the place, the easier it is to hide things… Honestly, this big estate doesn’t feel as good as the old knight dormitory… Anyway, let’s move on. How many people has the Second Prince sent here so far?”


Armand didn’t lift his head. His eyes stayed on the garden, watching the busy movements of the servants. In his clear blue eyes, it looked like every hidden corner of the estate was being reflected.


People often said Armand was carefree and easygoing, and that was true. But if he really didn’t have any sharp instincts, how could he be the one guarding the royal family?


If Armand didn’t have some skill of his own, the Crown Prince would’ve already been pushed out by the clever and calculating Second Prince. After all, whatever the Second Prince wanted to do, he would have to get past Armand first.


“We’ve found three people so far. Already dealt with,” the old butler said while also glancing out the window.


Even though he just told Armand to think more positively, deep down he knew the Second Prince’s assassins would always come.


“There are definitely more.”


Armand tapped his fingers on the window frame, the light tap tap of his nails sounding sharp in the quiet room.


“I’ll keep investigating.”


“Later, check the house for hidden rooms or underground tunnels. If anyone asks, say I need a wine cellar to store some good liquor.”


“Understood.”


Armand’s position was clear, he was often mocked by the Second Prince’s followers as nothing more than a loud guard dog at the royal gates.


But privately, he had a close bond with the Crown Prince. They were friends who had faced life and death together. People often said they were like brothers.


There was no way the Second Prince wouldn’t try to strike at him. Even on the way back from winning a battle, Armand had to stay alert in case an assassin was already waiting somewhere, sent by the Second Prince.


The Second Prince had a whole organization of assassins. Even if he didn’t send dozens of them at once, Armand was sure there were more than just three. In fact, those three were probably just distractions, the real threats were still hiding in the shadows.


“Did the Second Prince send a housewarming gift too?”


“He did. Expensive jewelry and all kinds of animal furs.”


“Sell the jewelry at the underground auction and turn it into cash. Check the furs, if they’re safe, divide them up and give them to my soldiers.”


“Alright, I’ll take care of it right away.”


“Whew…”


Hearing the sound of the old butler closing the door and leaving, Armand felt more and more annoyed. He blew on his bangs to cool down his forehead, which felt a bit hot, but he was still frowning.


He had been trying hard to live freely, just doing whatever he liked. But those people just wouldn’t let him live in peace.


“I only wanted a life of eating, drinking, and having fun… Why am I always worrying about these things…”


Knock knock.


There was a knock at the door behind him. As Armand turned his head, someone spoke from outside.


“Mr. Armand, sorry to bother you. The kitchen would like to know what kind of drink you like.”


The voice at the door was Evelia.


“Drink, huh… I like beer.”


“The kind from the commoners’ district?”


“Yeah, that kind.”


“Alright, we’ll go prepare it right away.”


“Ah—wait a second.”


Armand took two steps forward and opened the bedroom door. Evelia hadn’t left yet, and she happened to look up just as Armand looked down at her.


She raised her head and looked directly into Armand’s clear blue eyes. For someone who had survived dangerous battles, it was rare to see eyes that still looked so calm and clear.


But Evelia’s eyes were not chaotic either, even though her hands had been stained with blood. Her eyes weren’t bright, but they were steady and emotionless, just plain and calm.


“Umm—” Armand paused as he spoke, because he couldn’t remember the name of the girl with the long name. “So, are you going to the commoners’ district?”


Remembering people’s names was a real challenge for him. On top of that, he was a bit face-blind, he often had trouble telling people apart.


He naturally felt more comfortable around people with obvious features, like Evelia’s bright pink hair, which stood out no matter where she was. As long as his teammates looked unique, he wouldn’t embarrass himself by confusing them.


At least he could avoid the awkward situation where he stared at someone on the street for two minutes, and that person stared back in confusion. Only for both of them to realize they’d mistaken each other for someone else.


Many times at noble parties, he would just hide alone on a balcony with a drink, just so he wouldn’t mess up the names of the ladies. After all, noblewomen could hold a grudge for a long time over small things like that.


“Evelia,” she said, understanding Armand’s moment of hesitation. “Evelia Croyelle.”


One of the Second Prince’s orders was for Evelia to make sure this knight commander remembered her, to leave a deep impression. So she paid close attention to whether Armand had really remembered her name.


“Can I call you Pink Hair?”


“I’d really prefer you didn’t, Mr. Armand.”


“…So cold. How about ‘Eeya’? That one’s easy to remember.”


“Please don’t make my name sound like a sound effect you shout while swinging your sword.”


“Ahh…”


Armand looked troubled and tapped his own forehead.


“Anyway, Pink Hair, are you going to the commoners’ district?”


“It’s Evelia.”


“But your hair really is pink—”


“Evelia Croyelle.”


“Evefreya…”


“Evelia, sir.”


“Ephilia—”


“Evelia.”


“Can’t I just say Pink Hair?”


“Evelia.”


“Ahh—so annoying—”


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