The Goddess’s Contract

What, fundamentally, was the difference between a maid and a squire? This question became particularly pressing when the squire in question was clad in a maid outfit.

After breakfast, Fú Nī Yà and Albert departed in a carriage, with Jo at the reins outside the compartment. Throughout their journey, the young woman remained fixated on the maid outfit she wore, her mind ceaselessly pondering the peculiar situation.

Roughly half an hour later, the trio arrived in a district within Saint Mir City. This particular area seemed far from ordinary, for even Albert dismounted his carriage to proceed on foot. Fú Nī Yà, too, stepped down, joining Jo in trailing behind Albert.

She glanced at Jo, who stood beside her, then tilted her head, posing the question: “Um, Jo, what exactly is the difference between a squire and a maid?”

Upon hearing this, Jo couldn’t help but cast a puzzled look at Fú Nī Yà. ‘Why would you ask what the difference is?’ he thought. ‘Of course there’s a difference, and a significant one at that!’

“A squire serves as His Highness’s bodyguard when he travels, whereas a maid attends to His Highness within the manor. Is that clear?”

“Oh, I see…” Fú Nī Yà nodded thoughtfully, then, still perplexed, she pressed on: “In that case, if Albert were to face danger, would a maid be required to step forward and protect him?”

“Naturally,” Jo answered, as if stating the obvious.

“And if Albert desires a squire to attend to his personal needs, must the squire consent?”

“That… well, I suppose they should…?” Hearing this, Jo found himself faltering.

“Then, fundamentally, there’s no real distinction between a squire and a maid, is there?” Fú Nī Yà mused aloud. “Consider it: both must obey Albert’s commands, and both are responsible for ensuring his safety.”

“…Is that truly the case?” Jo’s brow furrowed in confusion.

While he couldn’t fault Fú Nī Yà’s logic, it seemed to diverge significantly from his established common sense. His already sluggish mind, now grappling with this conundrum, descended into an even deeper state of bewilderment.

It was then that he finally noticed the stark contrast in their attire. He was clad in light armor, while Fú Nī Yà wore a maid’s uniform.

As if clinging to a desperate lifeline, Jo hastily offered his insight: “Perhaps it’s merely a matter of attire? Maids don maid outfits, whereas squires wear armor and are required to carry a sword.”

“Is that truly the case?” Fú Nī Yà blinked, glancing down at her own attire. “But didn’t Albert explicitly state at breakfast that I am now his squire?”

“Huh?” Jo’s eyes glazed over in utter bewilderment. Maid, squire, maid outfit, armor… the four terms relentlessly rearranged themselves in his mind, transforming what were once distinct concepts into an indistinguishable muddle, yet subtly hinting at a singular, unsettling truth: ‘A maid is a squire?’

“Alright, alright, that’s quite enough,” Albert, who had been leading the trio, couldn’t help but roll his eyes, interjecting to halt their conversation. If he didn’t intervene, his current companion knight—and prospective future commander of the knight order—might well transform into a cross-dressing pervert by day’s end.

“But I am genuinely curious,” Fú Nī Yà persisted, her eyes fixed intently on Albert. “Albert, what precisely is the difference between a squire and a maid, particularly when the squire is, in fact, wearing a maid outfit?”

“Cough, cough!” Albert cleared his throat, feeling a pang of embarrassment, for he was undeniably the architect of this peculiar situation. After a brief deliberation, he addressed Fú Nī Yà: “Ultimately, whether you function as a maid or a squire is inconsequential. All that truly matters is that you obey my commands when the moment is critical.”

“Obey? To what extent?” Fú Nī Yà fixed a wary gaze on Albert. “I am not selling myself, you know.”

“If I harbored such intentions, do you truly believe you would have slept so soundly last night!?” Albert retorted, a hint of exasperation in his voice. He then clarified, “In truth, I brought you here today for precisely this purpose.”

“How so?” Fú Nī Yà, intrigued, surveyed their current surroundings. Her initial impression was one of sheer vastness. A multitude of churches, all meticulously arranged, converged around the Grand Cathedral of Saint Mir, the central edifice dedicated to Padel, the principal human deity. A divine radiance, born of sacred magic, enveloped the entire district, and simply existing within its aura imbued one with a boundless surge of energy.

Glancing at her system interface, Fú Nī Yà noticed a temporary buff now displayed on her status bar: [Divine Gaze: Constitution +2, Strength +2, Life Recovery Speed +5%]. Thanks to this, the lingering debuff from last night was finally somewhat mitigated, preventing her from becoming breathless after merely a few steps.

Drawing upon the memories of her previous self, Fú Nī Yà recognized this as the Temple District of Saint Mir City, the spiritual heart of the Holy Kingdom of Lohiris and indeed, the entire human realm. Only the Sacred City of Herun, situated further south, could claim to rival its sanctity, which explained the constant influx of pilgrims arriving for worship.

The streets teemed with an uncountable throng; nobles, merchants, common citizens, and impoverished farmers alike all proceeded on foot, entering the temples with equal reverence for worship. Even a member of the royal family like Albert was obliged to disembark his carriage and walk once within the hallowed Temple District.

After traversing a little further, Albert guided the two towards a temple situated notably closer to the district’s heart. Fú Nī Yà, with her keen perception, immediately observed that the congregation here was considerably denser than at other churches, and judging by their attire, they were unmistakably individuals of significant status and influence.

“This is…”

“This is the sacred sanctuary of Lady Mitra,” Jo interjected, his voice imbued with profound reverence as he answered Fú Nī Yà’s unspoken query. “She is the Goddess of Contracts and Loyalty, and the venerable patron of all knights.”

Fú Nī Yà was initially perplexed, but then a sudden realization dawned upon her. ‘The God of Knights?’ she mused. ‘Ah, so this is Jo’s direct superior.’ No wonder his demeanor was so utterly respectful. ‘If you’re not deferential enough, beware,’ Fú Nī Yà thought with a mischievous glint in her mind, ‘Lady Mitra might just make things difficult for you at a critical juncture.’

Concurrently, the young woman followed Albert through the grand church doors, entering the majestic hall. Through the vibrant hues of the stained-glass windows, the midday sun cast its radiant glow upon the statue of Lady Mitra. Clad in full armor, she held a longsword in one hand and a document in the other, her sharp gaze fixed resolutely forward.

Many of the temple’s clerics evidently recognized Albert, for expressions of surprise rippled across their faces as he entered. Swiftly, a fully armored knight, appearing to be in his forties, emerged from the inner sanctum and rendered a precise chest-salute to Albert. “Good afternoon, Your Highness the Fourth Prince,” he greeted. “Good afternoon, Bishop Bloomer,” Albert replied.

Albert nodded in acknowledgment to the knight. Given Mitra’s status as the Goddess of Knights, it was unsurprising that her bishops were predominantly seasoned warriors themselves. Fú Nī Yà, observing this scene, couldn’t help but shake her head with a sigh. It seemed that even in a world where deities genuinely existed, divine authority remained susceptible to the influence of secular power. No sooner had Albert arrived than a bishop was compelled to emerge and greet him.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Bloomer proceeded to inquire about Albert’s purpose. “I wish to execute a contract,” Albert replied, “one that does not require widespread knowledge.”

Bloomer nodded at the request, then immediately summoned a plain-looking cleric. After murmuring instructions into his ear, Bloomer fully delegated the task to the man before retreating back into the inner sanctum.

Watching Bloomer depart the grand temple hall, Albert withdrew his gaze and addressed the cleric: “Then let us commence.”

At Albert’s command, the cleric swiftly nodded, then led the trio, Fú Nī Yà included, to a secluded chamber. The room’s furnishings were sparse: a simple table, upon which rested a shrine to Mitra. Such private contract signings, like Albert’s, were not infrequent, thus rooms of this nature, along with discreet clerics, were always kept readily available.

Albert took Fú Nī Yà’s hand and addressed the cleric: “I wish to enter into an employment contract with her, hiring her to work for me.”

“Eh?” Fú Nī Yà tilted her head, a look of utter surprise on her face. Jo appeared utterly bewildered. Even the cleric couldn’t suppress a strange glance at Albert, given the undeniable s*ave collar encircling Fú Nī Yà’s neck. ‘She is already your s*ave,’ he silently questioned, ‘surely an employment contract is superfluous?’ Yet, accustomed to the peculiar whims of powerful individuals, the cleric refrained from further comment.

He produced a piece of parchment, laying it before the shrine, then positioned himself opposite the table, beginning to chant divine words in a hushed tone. Swiftly, a golden radiance, characteristic of sacred magic, emanated from the cleric’s hands, mirroring the light that now glowed from the shrine itself, casting its illumination upon the parchment.

Fú Nī Yà watched the unfolding scene with keen curiosity. The parchment, imbued with the power of divine magic, slowly ascended to hover in mid-air. Only then did the cleric cease his chanting, raising his gaze to address the two. “You two,” he intoned, “please state the contents of the contract.”

“Very well.” Albert nodded, then articulated the meticulously prepared terms of the contract. “The period of employment shall commence today and conclude only when Fú Nī Yà has fully repaid the one hundred thousand Ducat gold coins I expended for her purchase. Fú Nī Yà, do you accept?”

“This…” Fú Nī Yà’s brow furrowed in a knot of consternation. ‘Does Albert intend… to free me from slavery?’ she wondered, ‘Or is there some ulterior motive?’ After considerable deliberation, and sensing no apparent harm to herself within the terms, Fú Nī Yà finally nodded. “I agree,” she affirmed.

No sooner had the words left her lips than a line of text materialized upon the parchment, detailing the next clause of the contract: “Fú Nī Yà’s monthly salary shall be twelve Ducat gold coins. All food and lodging during the period of employment shall be provided free of charge, and bonuses shall be awarded for the completion of tasks I assign. All accumulated salary shall be applied solely to the repayment of your debt. Fú Nī Yà, do you accept?”

“Eh? Wait, if the monthly salary is twelve, then the annual salary amounts to merely one hundred forty-four gold coins. One hundred thousand Ducat gold coins… I’ll never be able to repay that in my entire lifetime!” Fú Nī Yà couldn’t help but exclaim, her voice rising in disbelief. While Albert’s offer of twelve gold coins per month was indeed substantial, surpassing the earnings of at least ninety percent of Saint Mir City’s populace, it was equally apparent that no citizen of Saint Mir City would ever be burdened with a hundred thousand gold coins of debt like the young woman. Even the cleric couldn’t help but gaze at Fú Nī Yà with an expression of profound sympathy. ‘This is a debt,’ he silently thought, ‘destined to be passed down through generations.’

“There are bonuses,” Albert explained with a smile, then turned back to the floating contract and added, “For every month Fú Nī Yà wears the maid outfit during her employment, she shall receive a bonus of one Ducat gold coin at the end of the month. Fú Nī Yà, do you accept?”

“…Are you truly so eager for me to wear a maid outfit?” Fú Nī Yà gritted her teeth as she asked.

“Of course,” Albert replied, nodding as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The sight of his former enemy obediently standing behind him in a maid outfit was more satisfying than a cold shower on a scorching summer day.

“Alright, alright, I agree, I agree! I accept both of those terms!” Fú Nī Yà declared, resigning herself to her fate. After all, what could she do when the man was so utterly shameless?

Two more clauses instantly appeared on the parchment. Albert then dictated numerous additional terms, primarily concerning holidays, provisions for Fú Nī Yà’s magical studies, and various other minor agreements. Soon, the entire parchment was densely filled with text.

Finally, Albert nodded with satisfaction. “That should be sufficient,” he stated.

Upon hearing this, the cleric nodded, turning to Fú Nī Yà for a final confirmation. “Miss Fú Nī Yà, do you accept the aforementioned terms?”

“I accept.” Fú Nī Yà nodded. Immediately, the parchment before her was consumed by divine flames, turning to ash.

“Your contract is hereby established under the watchful eye of Lady Mitra,” the cleric declared reverently.

Fú Nī Yà finally let out a sigh of relief, then pointed to the s*ave collar around her neck, addressing Albert. “Since the employment contract is established, this wretched collar should be removed, shouldn’t it?”

“Of course.” Albert nodded, then brushed his left hand over a ring on his right finger. As a flash of magical light shimmered, the s*ave collar on Fú Nī Yà’s neck lost its power to restrain her. The young woman fumbled at her neck for a moment, and the heavy silver-white collar clicked open.

Just as Fú Nī Yà was about to discard the detestable object, Albert suddenly called out to her. “Wait, don’t throw it away.”

“Why? Do you intend to use this thing on someone else?” Fú Nī Yà asked, displeased. Both she and her former self had suffered enough torment from this device, and she certainly didn’t wish for others to be restrained by it.

“Of course not.” Albert shook his head, then posed a question to Fú Nī Yà: “Let me ask you something. If someone spent thousands of gold coins to buy a pet, then felt it was too cruel to keep the pet caged and released it, what would you, as a bystander, think?”

“Uh… a kind idiot?” Fú Nī Yà pondered before replying, “After all, that’s a pet worth thousands of gold coins. Releasing it like that would be incredibly foolish.”

“Right?” Albert chuckled. “Now, you are that pet.”

“…”

“And a pet worth a hundred thousand gold coins, at that.”

“…”

“I have no desire to be perceived as an idiot, not even a kind one.”

“…Alright, alright, I understand!” Fú Nī Yà exclaimed in exasperation, placing the collar back around her neck. She truly wished she could slap her past self for that moment of impulsiveness.