The male and female servants sat in a circle, enjoying the kind of exquisite dinner usually reserved for nobles. They knew that their lord usually had at most four or five dishes per meal. Breakfast was sometimes as simple as fried eggs, bread, and milk, or a bowl of congee and a few steamed buns.
The amount of leftovers was large enough to leave the twenty-odd servants in the castle about half-full.
The female servants claimed the egg tarts right from the start.
The men didn't mind. They preferred meat, which was much better than the cloyingly sweet egg tarts.
"Which of the two young ladies do you think will be our future mistress?" a young maid whispered.
WHOOSH!!
All eyes snapped to her.
"W-What is it?" the young maid asked nervously.
"Miss Stacy," said a manservant nicknamed Pitchfork. "She's the master's cousin, and her status is a match for his."
As the master's personal valet, he felt more qualified to discuss the matter, since he knew more of the inside scoop.
