The atmosphere in the castle had often been festive during her employment, as the Count constantly threw parties to amuse and distract himself, but it had never been as light as today’s.
The hallways were crawling with soldiers, busy bringing this or that emergency to the appropriate officer’s desk, yet Eleanor walked through them without fear.
She didn’t hide or cringe away like she used to, scared of what the burly men might do to her. Oh, she knew these people weren’t fundamentally different from those she had known before, but the organization they belonged to didn’t tolerate excessively rude behavior. Indeed, she was sure that she could walk among them in her smallclothes, and they’d only leer a little before reprimanding her for breaking decorum.
Only a few of the servants she had known remained employed, and they exchanged respectful nods whenever they met, though they didn’t stop to chat, as their days were possibly even busier now.
On her way down to the dungeons, Eleanor decided it wasn’t just the atmosphere she enjoyed. Having actively helped to change it was what satisfied her the most.
Little Eleanor, a scaredy cat afraid of every shadow after running from the Void, would have never managed to do what she had. The mere idea of bullying and intimidating her superiors into letting an enemy army into the castle would have made her faint.
And yet, she had done all that and hadn’t lost a wink of sleep over it.
Her change was apparent not just in demeanor. Receiving her second Blessing had been an experience she still had a hard time believing. As a maid, she had expected the usual effects: becoming faster and more efficient at household chores, having a stronger body to fulfill her tasks, and having a vague sense of what still needed to be done.
But her suspicions her secret activities would influence her progression turned out to be correct. Beyond all the basic upgrades, she also became able to avoid anyone’s notice unless they were actively looking for her or had a sensory enhancement of their own. What she could only describe as her talent as a spy increased dramatically. No longer did she need to tensely wait for the perfect moment to move about. She now could immediately assess any situation or place she was in and begin planning her moves accordingly. Her observation skills increased by leaps and bounds, and she was forced to confront the reality that she had been incredibly lucky to avoid notice for so long, with how obvious she had been.
If the Count had held onto even a slightly competent spymaster, he’d have found me immediately. Instead, he was so arrogant that he believed himself to be the center of Treon and that as long as he kept all the other local nobles in his court where he could see them, none of them would be able to plot against him.
Natural light became scarcer as Eleanor walked deeper into the castle’s bowels. Her steps echoed faintly against the stone walls, and her mind raced. This was the final act of her betrayal, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. If she pulled this off, she’d be free to change occupations.
No one had asked this of her, but she still felt compelled to see her decision to hand the castle over to the rebels through.
The dungeon’s guards greeted her silently, letting her in once she showed the badge Damien had granted her.
Inside, it was less gloomy than she remembered, which showed just how different the Revolution was from the nobles. Even prisoners were afforded basic decency.
She only had to walk a hundred feet before she found who she was looking for.
The head maid, Geraldine, was once an imposing figure in the household. She was just a tired old woman now. With how perfidious her behavior had been, Eleanor knew better than to underestimate her. Still, she didn’t come here for revenge. Not one many would understand, at least.
As she approached the iron bars and was noticed, she found the woman standing rigid, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Eleanor!" She spat, frothing with anger. She lunged at the bars, fingers curling through the gaps as if to tear them apart. "You traitorous wretch! How dare you show your face here!”
Eleanor stopped just outside her reach, keeping her expression carefully neutral, though her heart pounded. The venom in the woman’s voice was palpable, and for a moment, she almost faltered. But she steeled herself. There was no reason to be afraid anymore.
"You’ve ruined everything!" Geraldine shrieked, voice echoing through the dungeon. "How could you betray our master like this? You ungrateful little—“
"Enough!" Eleanor’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tirade. She didn’t raise her voice often, but now it was cold and commanding. She hadn’t come here to be hurled abuse at. "You’ve had your say; now sit down."
Geraldine faltered, shocked into silence by the authority in Eleanor’s tone. With a huff, she stepped back and slumped onto the narrow cot in her cell. She was still bristling with anger, but the fight had left her, at least for the moment.
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"Have you come to gloat, then?" She asked bitterly, her voice quieter but no less filled with venom. "To see what’s become of me now that you’ve destroyed everything?”
Eleanor was tempted to lash out, to throw back all the resentment she had harbored over the months—the memories of the woman turning a blind eye to the abuses she and the other young girls had endured, the cruelty she had shown to those beneath her, her dismissive attitude when asked what happened to those unlucky enough to catch the Count's attention. But she held back. There was a purpose to this visit, and she needed to keep control.
"I’m not here to gloat," Eleanor replied evenly. "Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find some satisfaction in seeing you like this. But no, I’m here because I need answers.”
The old woman snorted derisively. "Answers? From me? What could you possibly want to know, traitor? The castle is yours. The city is yours. I doubt you filthy rebels have left a single stone unturned. There is nothing left for you to take.”
Eleanor stepped closer to the bars, lowering her voice. "The Count has likely already forgotten about you. He’s too busy with his new slaves to worry about those left behind. If you want to get out of here alive one day, you’d be better off being cooperative.”
The dig about being abandoned made her flinch, but Geraldine quickly recomposed herself, lips curling into a sneer. "Cooperate with you? Never. Loyalty is everything to me. I dedicated my life to serving House Luster-Treon, and I’ll not betray that now, no matter what you say.”
"Loyalty?" Eleanor echoed, allowing a hint of bitterness to seep into her tone. "And what did that loyalty get you? Left to rot in a dungeon, forgotten by the very man you served so faithfully. He didn’t even think about taking you with him.”
Geraldine glared but said nothing. Eleanor could see the struggle in her eyes, the war between pride and the harsh reality of her situation. She pressed on.
"The Count took everything of value with him when he fled. He left the castle empty of anything of worth, believing himself the most important thing rather than thinking about what condition that would leave the people of Treon in. You know that as well as I do. So what is there left for you to be loyal to?”
The old woman scoffed again, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Fear and defiance mixed with frustration, if Eleanor had to bet.
"Shows how little you know, girl," she said, her voice heavy with contempt. "Some things cannot be taken away from the castle. Some things are bound to it and the family by ties stronger than you can imagine.”
Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. She had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed was something else entirely. "What things?" she asked, leaning in slightly. "What did the Count leave behind?”
Geraldine’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, glee returning life to her expression. "You think you can just waltz in here and take what’s been hidden for centuries? You’re a fool, Eleanor. You’ll never find it. And even if you did, you wouldn’t understand its power.”
Eleanor remained calm on the outside, but inside, her mind was racing. She had suspected something was hidden within the castle, something unwieldy enough that the Count had deemed impossible to move.
She needed to know more but couldn’t push too hard, or she might lose the woman’s cooperation entirely. So she stepped back, letting a small, thoughtful smile play on her lips.
"Perhaps," she said, her voice casual, "but it seems to me that whatever it is, it didn’t do much good for you or your precious master. And it won’t help you now, locked away down here. But if you were willing to talk… perhaps you could find a way out of this situation.” She leaned back just enough for the medallion at her neck to catch the light.
Geraldine narrowed her eyes, suspicion warring with the faintest glimmer of hope. Eleanor could see that she was teetering on the edge, and all it would take was the right push. Unfortunately, she knew the woman enough to realize she’d clam up if she added more pressure now.
"Think about what I said," she said, keeping her voice low. "I’ll be back.”
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“Lady Neer, thank you for seeing me. I won’t take too much of your time.” Eleanor greeted, curtseying slightly out of habit.
The half-orc charged with keeping the pace within Treon grunted back.
“I believe, and have now received confirmation from the castle’s previous head maid, that there might be something of great worth hidden here that has yet to be found.” She explained, doing her best to prevent the words from rushing out. She didn’t want to appear like a kid sharing a secret. She needed the lady to take her seriously if she wanted to jump from not-useful anymore spy to actual revolutionary.
Neer looked up from the maps spread across the table, tusks peeking out slightly as she frowned in thought. She was a formidable figure, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence that made Eleanor feel small despite her recent accomplishments. The half-orc had been instrumental in the Revolution's success, and apparently, her strategic mind was as sharp as the greatsword she kept within arm’s reach.
To be given such a role from the Hero, she had to be. He was the Light’s Avatar, after all.
Eleanor kept her posture straight, waiting for a response. The silence stretched on for a few moments, the only sound being the low murmur coming from outside the open window.
“Something of great worth?” Neer finally asked skeptically. She leaned back in her chair, folding her meaty arms across her chest. “The castle has been checked over with a fine comb, girl. My people have gone through every room, every secret passage, every hidden chamber. If there was something of value, we would have found it by now.”
Eleanor resisted the urge to fidget under Neer’s gaze. She knew she had to choose her words carefully. “I understand, my lady, and I don’t doubt the thoroughness of your search. But the head maid hinted that things are tied to this castle, things that might not be so easily uncovered by conventional means.”
Neer raised an eyebrow, her expression still dubious. “And you believe her?”
Eleanor hesitated, then nodded. “I do. The Count left in a hurry, and he’s an idiot, but he knows his House well. If there’s something here that he couldn’t take with him, it’s because it’s either too well hidden or too dangerous to move. I believe it’s worth investigating further.”
Neer tapped her fingers on the table, her eyes narrowing as she considered Eleanor’s words. “And what exactly do you expect to find?”
“I’m not sure,” Eleanor admitted, “but I’m confident it’s something significant. The head maid was loyal to the Count to the end. She wouldn’t have bragged unless she thought it was important.”
Neer sighed, a low rumble echoing in her chest. “You know, resources are stretched thin as it is. We can’t afford to chase shadows. If this is a wild goose chase, it will reflect poorly on you.”
Eleanor felt a pang of anxiety at the thought, but she forced herself to remain composed. “I understand the risks, and I’m willing to accept the consequences if this turns out to be nothing. But I trust my instincts.”
Neer studied her for a long moment, her eyes piercing. “You’ve already proven your usefulness in taking this castle, Eleanor. That’s the only reason I’m even entertaining this idea. But be warned—if this search leads nowhere, it will be a mark against you. We’re not in the business of wasting time or resources.”
Eleanor nodded, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. “I agree to your terms, my lady. I’ll conduct the search discreetly.”
“Good,” Neer said, her tone brooking no argument. “You have one week. After that, you’ll move on.”
“One week,” Eleanor repeated, her mind already racing. “Thank you.”
Neer nodded curtly and returned to her maps, clearly dismissing her. Eleanor turned and left the room, her heart pounding. She had gotten what she needed—a chance to show she was worth more than just as a conveniently placed maid.