"Mhm…Hm…hm…" Sungah hummed jubilantly, dusting the blemished windows while breathing in the fresh, crisp air.

A smile crept onto her face as she watched the birds flapping their wings energetically as they soar through the skies magnificently, boasting their ability to stay afloat in the air before flying over the mansion. She sighed, gazing at the birds with a hint of envy.

"How great it must be to fly…" Sungah murmured beneath her breath. But nefore she could move to her next spot, something cold grazed her neck and caused her to involuntarily squeal.

"Eek!"

"Hehe, got you!" Aiala remarked, proud to have succeeded in pranking Sungah. Her hands were shivering slightly as she was tasked with washing the young lady's clothes earlier.

"Aiala…please never do that again. I nearly thought a ghost touched me…" Sungah spoke breathlessly, her heart racing dangerously faster from Aiala's prank. She caressed her chest and took deep breaths, gradually calming her pulse.

"Alright, I'll try. I just couldn't help myself. You just seemed like the person who would show the reactions I want when pranking someone." Aiala explained, walking away with a contented smile.

Sungah sighed once more and finally resumed her task, cleaning the windows of the manor but with a slight wariness to her surroundings, keeping a lookout for any possible schemes Aiala.

Fortunately, throughout the entire duration of the time she was working, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to occur which allowed her to continue on with her tasks peacefully.

…

Presented within the servant's halls…

A few servants could be perceived enjoying a meal together while chattering with one another about their days.

"Ugh…this meat is so tough…" Aiala grumbled, chewing square-shaped meat with great effort. In her hands, she held a bowl of stew that was made everyday for the servants. Within the bowl, chunks of tough, bland meat floating in the liquid.

The stew was bland and barely contained any flavour while the meat was chewy and often got lodged in between one's teeth. Yet the meal offered the necessary nutritions needed for the human body, making it important despite its lack of flavour.

Sungah chuckled in amusement as she opened her mouth. "Think of it as karma for always playing tricks with all of us."

The others nodded simultaneously, a frown appearing on her face by their agreement. "You guys just do not get it! Do you not find pleasure in pranking, or playing tricks on others?" She questioned exasperatedly, still struggling to chew and swallow the pieces of meat inside of her mouth.

A servant immediately replied. "Well, yes. In a way, it is fun to play tricks on others. But the consequences are rather risky. And the efforts required to pull off one is exhausting. That is why we do not bother to prank someone on a daily basis."

"That is right. Not all of us are tricksters like you, who are willing to spend days planning a simple prank, Aiala." Another added.

"Not to mention, not all of us have the audacity to wait for hours and hours inside of a box, only to prank the person who would open the box and leave an abundance of work that needed to be done as quickly as possible." One chimed in.

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They all took turns teasing and complementing Aiala's dedication to her role as a prankster among the servants. A mixture of embarrassment and irritation washed over her. Puffing up her cheeks, she lets out an infuriated sigh. "You all are bullies!"

After a few minutes, they soon cleaned up the room and left, headed back to their respective tasks. One hung up the lady's clothes, one kept the hallways neat and tidy, one trimmed the overgrown bushes, one prepared the bath for the young mistress—all worked unrelentingly to ensure the person that had saved them all from their grim circumstances to be pleased.

…

It was now nearing night, darkness gradually creeping in, replacing the bright, brilliant sky. The nocturnal creatures scattered throughout the lands opened their eyes, stretched their limbs and braced themselves for another night of hunting.

Meanwhile, the manor still appeared to be extremely lively, each servant rushing to finish their duties for the day. At the same time, they ensured the quality of their work was not affected by their desire to take a rest, completing their tasks thoroughly and efficiently.

Unbeknownst to them, a guest would soon appear. A jovial expression plastered onto their faces, making their way back to their respective rooms. However, the sound of the manor's doors opening stopped them in their tracks, drawing their attention towards the source of the noise.

"This place looks as disgusting as I remember." An ever so arrogant, prideful and haughty noble commented, a pair of armoured guards standing beside him. His eyes were filled with disdain as he wiped the sole of his shoe on the carpet he was standing on—smudging it in mud, dirt and miniscule rocks.

The nobleman possessed shoulder-length brown hair with streaks of white hair and wore an expensive, spectacular outfit that consisted of a richly embroidered velvet doublet, adorned with intricate gold thread, a fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders, and finely tailored breeches. His attire was completed with a pair of leather boots and a jeweled brooch clasping his cloak at the collar.

An old and humble maid hurried to him and promptly curtsied at him. The maid felt anxious before him but she knew she could not afford to show such a man her emotions. The man then treaded slowly towards the brave maid, the sounds of his steps only fueled her fear and caused her to stare at the ground out of instinct—unable to bear the thought of meeting his gaze. She trembled slightly but still maintained her posture and elegance.

Eventually, he stopped in his path, standing mere centimeters away from her. "Look at me." He commanded, to which the maid swiftly responded. Her eyes met with his, a look of distraught appearing over her face as he saw the face of a man who felt insulted and taunted.

SLAP!

At that moment, a burning sensation spread across the maid's left cheek before she fell to the ground. By the time she regained composure, the maid was gasping for air with a reddish mark on her face that resembled the nobleman's palm. Her breathing was erratic and her legs felt weak from terror.

Silence ensued throughout the entire manor, the servants watching the scene that had unfolded in bewilderment. Their bodies numb, overcome with shock and the inability to react to the current events. No one dared to utter even a single word for their mind struggled to comprehend the scenario that had transpired. However, the suffocating silence would soon be broken by the nobleman as he commanded the maid yet again.

"Stand up." He ordered. The maid, fearing for her own life, compiled without hesitation.

The same scene unfolded: another mark left on the maid's cheek—this time on her right side. The sequence of events repeated. With each hit she endured, the worse her condition became. The servants watched in horror at the 'punishment' their fellow colleague was receiving, yet none bore the courage to stand up for her. Their opponent was a noble, a very mighty and important one at that.

Should they even show the slightest hint of rebelling, their head would be immediately decapitated by the merciless man. Their lips sealed and eyes closed as they ignored the sound of the nobleman's hand striking their coworker. The maid's cheeks were unsalvageable, stained with blood and tears. She mumbled about the agonising pain beneath her breath yet she did not bother to beg or ask for forgiveness. Instead, she chose to persist against the nobleman's harsh actions for it was the only course of action she could take in order to live.

Despite the incident only lasting for a few minutes, it seems to go infinitely as if time itself had stopped and rewound just to make sure this horrific memory would be engraved deeply into the maid's mind. As the nobleman prepared himself to swing his right hand for the 64th time, a voice halted him from doing so.

"Stop!" The voice roared with fury, echpoing throughout the grand manor. Slowly, the owner of the voice stepped into the room, revealing themselves to be the young mistress. Her face crumpled into a swirl of emotions, staring daggers at the nobleman.

Her fist clenched tightly, her fingernails digging into her own skin in an attempt to appease all that rage coursing throughout her entire body—yearning to strike him down once and for all.

"Let's…talk." The young lady spoke calmly, resisting the temptations to end the man standing in her line of sight.

"Talking? Yes. That is the reason I came here to begin with. But why should I comply so easily? You made me wait for quite some time…which is quite disrespectful if I must say so myself. Should there not be some compensation for your guest?" He requested, gesturing at his guards to brace themselves perchance the young mistress would dare to attack him.

She gritted her teeth, her brows furrowing, a hint of exasperation tinting in her voice as she replied. "SURE." She took a few deep breaths before continuing. "Follow me. We will talk elsewhere."

A gratified grin swept across the nobleman's face as he followed her to another room, his two guards accompanying him from behind—leaving the poor, scathed maid to breathe a sigh of relief as she succumbed to her exhaustion, collapsing onto the ground with a loud thud.

"Thank you…mistress." She murmured weakly, her consciousness gradually slipping as a darkness took her away from the realm of conscious.

…