Novel & Cerita First Class Servent

Yarsi smiled involuntarily. “You are not a servant, Vic, you are my first assistant, and therefore you carry out various assignments. “Somewhere there is a catch.” He shook his head and walked towards the horses.

They called her a stray dog dressed in silk. Her husband choked her in a wedding shop. Her sister shoved her under a car. Her family danced on her grave before the dirt was cold. Then she opened her eyes seven years in the past. "You think you can break me twice, Kyle?" "Celine, I made a mistake. I was blind. Just give me one more chance and I'll spend the rest of my life proving." "You had your chance. You used it to destroy me." "I love you." "You loved the version of me that was stupid enough to believe you." She came back with a colder heart, a sharper mind, and the kind of rage that doesn't scream. It plans. But Celine didn't expect Aron Caruso. The man who ordered her burial i

Chapter 38 The servant set the tray down with practiced care. The kitchen seal was pressed neatly into the wax at its corner. Everything about him appeared correct the uniform, the posture, even the respectful distance he kept from Elara. Too correct. "Who sent you?" Elara asked. "Kitchen duty, Miss Veyne." The answer came too quickly. No hesitation. No glance toward the tray to check what he was delivering. None of the small uncertainties she'd learned to expect from ordinary palace staff.

Nothing else. "Can you tell him to wait until tomorrow? My body is very tired tonight," I say to the male servant. "Do you think I control everything?" he replies sarcastically. "If you have something to say, say it directly to him. I have no connection to your affairs whatsoever." "I know, but can't you convey it to him?" I ask again. "Tsk! I can't!" and he snaps at me. In reality, I have already realized where this conversation is heading. The male servant clearly will not comply with my wishes, considering he is nothing more than a slave. No better than my status as a prisoner here.

I smile to make them comfortable and though it didn’t help much, I noticed they were trying to be comfortable. That’s a good start. “What do you think about shifting to a new house? The house you can call your own. Not in some servant quarter packed like animals.” I suggested, and they looked at me confused. I know they must have never had this idea before. Because it’s normal for servants to stay in the servant quarter. But that is the problem. It’s their job, not their title. They were as much part of the pack as other pack members are. Just because they work as a servant, their rank doesn’t get less than anyone.

I called. The door swung open, and five servants entered in a neat line, each pushing a wheeled silver cart laden with covered platters. The smell hit me first — roasted meat, fresh bread, something spiced and sweet. My stomach growled again. They bowed in unison. Two left immediately after setting down their carts, while the remaining three lowered their heads again. “My lady,” the one in front began, “we are here to serve you during your stay — meals, bathing, any needs you may have.”

"As expected. It simply means that your duty is anything you're told to do. Cleaning, scrubbing, cooking, washing, serving at the table. Anything at all. Normally the servants are divided into categories and you only handle tasks you've been assigned in that category. But that isn't the case for you. At any time, you can be called to do anything maybe because one of the servants is ill or unavailable or simply because your assistance is needed. Whatever the case, you must attend to your call immediately. "And if I'm already doing something?" She stared at me and I felt the need to explain further. "Are there any tasks more important than the others?" "No. They are of equal importance. Unless

They are confused about what I do and how to go on about it, they are people who are really fucked up and have lots of shady secrets, I'm pretty sure Maggie won't go deep down into details yet. After all, I'm still new and might attempt running off or running my mouth anyhow, anywhere. Only if they knew I had nowhere to go, they wouldn't be scared or think I have an option of running to nowhere in particular, but then again I must not make them feel like I truly am homeless. "Kate was chosen as the master's personal tender just like every other way each servant is to make him tea, just random tea and place them all in one large tray, He comes down and I present it to him, whoever tea he choo

Then, I said with a calm gaze, "Grandpa, Vivian was the one who broke off this engagement first. "She cheated on me with another man and even signed a master-servant contract with him. I've always conducted myself with integrity, and our family would never allow a woman like her to marry in."

The man smiled back, standing tall and confident. "I'm Jose, the chief manservant of this house," he introduced himself with a gentle smile. "Oh you're the butler", I immediately commented. "Yes Madam", he said. Realizing that I might have offended him with my earlier comment, I quickly added, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just that everything here feels like a movie to me." Jose simply nodded and gestured towards the staircase, "Your breakfast is served, Madam. Senior James is already waiting for you downstairs."