The Transmigrated Maid Hates the Insatiable Count

Stepping down from her bed, Diana opened the wardrobe and pulled out fresh underwear and her maid uniform. The one good thing about this household was that clothes and undergarments were supplied almost limitlessly, so she didn’t have to worry about the panties Adrian had snatched from her.

By the way, how many pairs of used panties does that guy need to steal before he’s satisfied?

Once fully dressed in her maid uniform, Diana considered heading straight out, but turned back to look at her bed instead. She still had plenty of time before breakfast. For the first time in a long while, Diana decided to purify her mind.

“Shall I take a look at my little darlings before heading out?”

Diana locked the bedroom door. She didn’t have any close maid friends, so no one would come looking to wake her up even if she overslept, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Kneeling beside the bed, Diana stretched her arm out to locate the bag that should be resting underneath.

“Oh dear, is it pushed too far in?”

Having shoved it deep inside for fear that someone might steal it, her arm couldn’t quite reach. Only after blindly feeling around the dusty floor several times did she manage to pull out a worn, old travel bag.

“Phew, well, the hard work was worth it.”

A genuine, radiant smile spread across her beautiful, refined face—a look far too regal for a mere maid.

Dusting off her hands, she opened the bag to reveal a cloth pouch and a small box hidden beneath some faded everyday clothes. Inside the pouch were silver coins, and the crude wooden box contained a pair of gold-plated men’s cufflinks alongside a few small gemstones.

The silver coins were her earned wages as a maid, while the rest were items the original Diana had quietly pocketed one or two at a time whenever she cleaned Adrian’s room prior to the reincarnation.

“Perhaps because she was born a noble, she picked out only the finest, despite their small size.”

If sold altogether, they would amount to far more than ten full years of a maid’s hard labor.

The former Diana likely believed she had stolen them in secret, but there was no way Adrian was unaware. In any other household, she would have been caught, beaten bloody, and thrown out long ago.

The fact that he remained silent all this time meant he was deliberately turning a blind eye. Or perhaps he truly hadn’t noticed.

Since returning them now would be even more awkward, Diana simply left them as they were.

Above all, once the heroine Clara appeared and Adrian’s interest shifted away from Diana, she intended to flee this place, making settlement funds an absolute necessity.

After all, she knew nothing about Diana’s hometown, who her family was, or where she used to live.

If she stayed behind and got caught between the lead pair, she might be falsely accused of jealousy and get her head chopped off like in other novels—or worse, be kicked out penniless. Diana figured it was best to quietly disappear on her own terms.

“I wish I had reincarnated as the heroine or another noble lady instead.”

Then at least she could have slacked off a little.

Regardless of Adrian’s endless torment, Diana still had to get up early and work. Such was the tragic, unavoidable fate of a maid. Diana had always known a maid’s life would be tough, but experiencing it firsthand was far more exhausting and demanding than she could have ever imagined.

Before arriving here, Diana had never once wrung out a rag with her own two hands. Washing machines handled the laundry, and vacuum cleaners took care of the dust.

Her inner complaints exploded a dozen times a day over why a place like this lacked basic appliances.

“Haa, damn this medieval fantasy setting.”

Donning her maid cap, Diana stepped out of her room, only for the other maids who spotted her to hurriedly scatter past.

“I heard she’s still working by herself?”

“Who’d ever want to work with someone so self-centered?”

Watching them whisper among themselves, Diana felt a bitter taste in her mouth.

When she first opened her eyes in this world, she had genuinely tried her best to make friends and get along with others, but the original Diana’s image as an arrogant, obnoxious snob had already been cemented—so no one ever approached her.

‘If it was going to be like this, I wish I had reincarnated the moment Diana first stepped foot into the Count’s estate.’

Then she might have had at least one or two friends her age to chat with and share meals with.

Being alone might be comfortable when sleeping, but during break times or while working, having someone to talk to was a desperate need. An isolated life in a world without smartphones or televisions was agonizingly dull and hard to endure.