The weather is very cold. It has snowed heavily for several times.

  The Mormont manor was covered with snow, a world of ice and snow.

  It was very cold in the castle, and except for the room with the fireplace, it was as cold as an ice cellar, especially the little room where our servants lived.

  There was no room for fire in the servants' bedroom, and I shivered at night under a thick quilt, missing the warm fire in the little parlour during the day.

  My room is only a few square meters and very narrow. It had a single bed, a cupboard and nothing else. My personal possessions were even more meager, with only a few clothes and a diary.

  I opened my diary and began to write a few words under the faint light of the candle,

  "On November 8th, the whole estate continued the cleaning yesterday, in order to welcome the upcoming distinguished guests."

  Then I closed my diary and put it on the bed. Diary, I never write superfluous things, really will make me trouble sleepless night, only over and over again in my mind.

  What I really want to write is... He'll be here soon.

  ...

  After three months of wearing black dress, all the Maumont Manor retired, ladies and ladies back to the fine silk dresses, waving fragrance folding fans, walking gracefully in the castle.

  The Bruce family had a very dull winter because of the family funeral. There was no music, no dancing, and they were holed up in the castle, waiting for the December social season.

  As I stood in a neat row with the footmen, Aaron, the butler, said solemnly, with his hands behind his back, "You know that the Viscount's nephew, the Lord Bruce, will be arriving this afternoon. We have been preparing for this for a long time, and from now on we must keep our heads up. There can be no mistakes."

  "Yes! Sir! ' "We answered in unison.

  "Well, today the gates of the house will be opened to welcome our guests. All of you will follow me and stand at the gate to greet them. Take care of your appearance and your clothes. If you bring discredit on Mormont manor，I will skin you."

  The footmen were lined up at the gate, the Viscount at the front, the ladies in the second row, and I stood at a distance, peeping out of the corner of my eye at the door.

  Soon a big black carriage stopped at the castle door.

  Two footmen got down from the back of the carriage. One of them unloaded the luggage, and the other opened the door.

  A tall man in a black cloak stepped out of the carriage. The Viscount met him immediately, and they embraced warmly.

  The carriage drove away, and the owners, without long greetings, entered the castle. The gate was empty. I still gawked there, in fact, I just saw his back in the distance...

  It's freezing cold in the snow. Simon nudges me. "What are you picking at? Let's hurry to the back yard and help the Baron unload his luggage."

  I say no, our Lord Baron has two valets with him, and they will not allow strangers to touch his clothes, and we have gone for nothing.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Baron though he is, the Lord seems to be rich." Simon said excitedly, "Did you see that coach? It's luxurious，even better than ours. The horse even had sapphires in his blindfold. It was amazing."

  Sure enough, by the time we got to the back yard, all the luggage had been unloaded.

  "Will you show us to the lordship's chambers?" 'asked the baron's servant.

  "Please come with us." We took them to the guest room.

  This guest room was Descr ng for the Baroness and is spacious with its own small living room. The room was sunny and warm even in winter, and there was a cozy fire in the fireplace.

  The baron's valet, however, scarcely visibly frowned.

  Yes, our Lord Baron is not only rich, but he lives in the most luxurious way. He even has a luxurious villa in the King's palace. We serve them with all our might, but in their eyes we neglect them.

  "Thank you for your thoughtful preparation. We'll take care of the rest." Two footmen began to chase people away.

  As Simon and I left the guest room, Simon said with a grimace on his face, "Why are these guys so proud?"

  They certainly had pride, I thought. Their master, though not of high rank, was a very rich man, and one of the Dukes was said to borrow money from the baron. Of course, no one at Mormont manor knew that the Baron was rich.

  As I entered the hall, Mr. Aaron hurried up to me and said in a low voice, "Owen, come with me at once."

  "But I have to run to the kitchen to pass the dishes, and I'll be late." I said.

  "Simon will do. You'll come with me to the dining room." 'said the butler.

  "The dining room..." I'm a little surprised. The dining room is no place for a footman like me.

  The butler sighed and said, "That troubled boy, Claude, fell down the stairs and broke his leg. It's a disgrace to have it happen at such a time. Owen, you fill in for him, and you'll be ready for dinner tonight."

  "But I've never been a high servant." I said hesitantly.

  But the butler had already reached the door of the main dining room. He looked me in the eye and said, "Be careful when you get inside. Don't make any mistakes.

  There was nothing I could do. I took a deep breath and followed the butler into the dining room.

  In the dining room, long tables were set with delicate silver utensils, China, knives and forks, and the hall was lit up with high white candles on bright gold candlesticks.

  In addition to the Baroness, the guests today are Judith and her husband, Lord Trysick, the judge of Yorkton Court, Lord Jeffery, and his mistress, two female friends of the Viscountess, and a friend of the Viscount's, Lord Randolph.

  I knew the butler was watching my every move. He was afraid that I would make a fool of myself. Then he whispered to me, "Come after me later and serve the food.

  There are supposed to be four senior footmen serving here, and it would be rude to suddenly lose one, which is why the butler has no choice but to put me in charge. It happened last time, too, when I made a fool of myself the first time I served food. I asked Catherine, whether she wanted me to wait on her. She smiled and refused, but I was scolded by the housekeeper and almost sent away.

  I learned my lesson this time. I followed the butler and never said another word.

  The hosts at the table laughed and chatted enthusiastically. The viscount was warm to the baron, and kept talking to him in flattering words. I noticed that Margaret and the Catherine took the place of the Baron on the left and the right. The Margaret did not say a word to the Baron, while Catherine occasionally made eyes at him.

  When I finally saw him again, he didn't even look at me.

  He is a proud and cold man, and if it were not for that incident, I'm afraid his eyes would never have fallen on me, a small person.

  The baron's name was Oscar, and he was eight years older than me. He was twenty-six.

  His appearance is average, or very ordinary. He wore no wig and had thick, tawny hair, which was curled on the sides and tied in a small braid at the back. His eyes were also tawny, dark and drooping, which made him look listless and decadent.

  Tall as he is, he has a crooked back. It is said that he had a serious illness when he was a child, and his back became crooked after several years in bed. His voice was low, slightly hoarse, and he was mostly silent unless initiated into conversation.

  He was such a quiet, even somewhat opaque man.

  After the food was served, I stood by the wall and waited for orders.

  Miss Shirley, a friend of the Viscount, beckons me to come and serve alone.

  Miss Shirley was a very plump lady, and today she wore a long brown silk dress, with short cuffs and a low neckline trimmed with white tulle. I feel like it would be very difficult for this dress to wrap around her bulky body, but luckily their waistband is very sturdy. Otherwise, there would certainly be a tragic wardrobe malfunction.

  This girdle makes it difficult for a woman to breathe or even bend over, so she often needs to be served.

  As I walked over to pour her wine, she kept her eyes on my face. She was a widow with a reputation for womanizing and a penchant for younger men.

  She giggled as I bent down to salute her, and whispered to her companion with her fan over her face. Her companion looked back at me, eyes bright and interested.

  See, I knew it. Women like me. I should never have been foolish enough to fall in love with Catherine with a superior eye, even if it had only been a valet at the side of some merry widow, it would not have come to that dismal end.