Chapter 2
"The root of Lady Joyce's troubles lies in her obsession with wealth," Maya said. "Your Lordship, please temporarily confiscate all of Lady Joyce's personal seals, tokens, and storeroom keys.
"Entrust them to Lady Paola and me for safekeeping and break her attachment to wealth. Only then will she truly learn to be a proper and upright noblewoman."
Eliza knelt behind and shouted, "No. Those were left to Lady Joyce by the late Lord. What gives you the right to seize them?"
Maya turned and slapped Eliza across the face.
"Don't interrupt when the master is speaking!" Maya said coldly. "You're the one most corrupted by money."
Phillip gestured dismissively.
"Attendants," he ordered. "Drag this insolent girl out. Give her twenty slaps."
Eliza was hauled off by two burly maids.
We could hear Eliza's anguished cries coming from outside the courtyard.
I clenched my fists as I looked at my father.
"You want my keys?" I asked.
He avoided my gaze.
Phillip said, "I'm just holding onto them for you. Once you've learned proper conduct, I'll return them to you then."
I unfastened the set of keys from my waist.
I threw it down at Maya's feet.
"Fine," I said.
Maya picked up the keys.
A satisfied smile crept onto her face.
She cleared her throat and said, "Your Lordship, simply confiscating her wealth isn't enough. Lady Joyce needs to experience what it's like for those at the bottom.
"Only then will her soul be purified. I suggest punishing Lady Joyce by making her dump the night soil in the backyard for a month."
Paola put a hand to her mouth.
"Isn't this... isn't this too humiliating for Joyce Foster?" Paola said.
Phillip snorted coldly. "Do as Maya says. If she doesn't suffer a bit, she'll never understand who she really is. Take her away."
Maya stepped right up to me.
She regarded me with cold superiority.
"Lady Joyce," she said, her tone icy, "from today on, your soul will be purified."
I rose to my feet, kept my eyes down, and turned and strode toward the rear courtyard.
When I reached the doorway, I paused.
I turned back and fixed my gaze on the land deed lying on the table, saying, "The seal on that land deed can only be undone with my blood."
The night soil cart reeked of a foul, pungent stench.
I pushed the heavy wooden cart across the cobblestone path.
The wheels creaked and groaned with every turn.
Maya moved a chair and settled herself beneath the veranda.
She held a bowl of consommé in her hands and stirred it with a silver spoon.
"Lady Joyce, move faster," Maya said coldly. "The smell here might be harsh, but compared to the stink of money that clings to you, it's far cleaner."
I didn't say a word.
I bent down and picked up a wooden bucket.
It was heavy.
My wrists were chafed red from the strain.
I poured the filth into the cart.
Maya took a sip of her consommé.
"Are you watching?" she said. "This is the taste of real labor. Back when you were spending all that dirty money, did you ever spare a thought for how hard these servants have it?
"I'm doing you a favor—helping you build up your karma."
Laughter echoed from the far end of the veranda.
My stepsister Sharon Foster strutted over, flanked by three heiresses from Ashbourne.
They pressed handkerchiefs to their faces, trying to block out the stench.
Sharon pointed at me.
"Well, Joyce," she sneered, "what are you doing here, stuck with such degrading chores?"
"Juliana, look," Sharon called out. "This is the Foster family's richest heiress—our so-called noble lady."
Juliana Dunn made a show of stepping back, exaggerating her disgust.
"Oh my goodness," she gasped. "That's just disgusting. I can't even look at this. I heard she tried to bribe the etiquette tutor with cash?
"With that kind of attitude, even a mountain of gold couldn't make her respectable."
Ashlynn Garcia chimed in, "Exactly. Not like Sharon—she's got talent in everything. She's skilled in music, chess, and painting. Now that's the kind of role model we should all admire."
Maya stood up and curtsied to Sharon.
"Good day, Lady Sharon," she said respectfully. "Good day to all the young ladies. I'm teaching Lady Joyce a lesson. It's a lesson in knowing shame."
Sharon laughed behind her hand.
"You've worked hard, Maya," she said. "Joyce's always been so unruly. It's all thanks to your guidance, Maya."
I set the wooden bucket down and straightened up, looking at Sharon.
"Little sister," I said. "That gold hairpin you're wearing—I had it custom-made at Aurora House just last month.
"And those shoes on your feet—they're crafted from the brocade silk my grandfather's family sent as tribute.
"Why don't you take a sniff? Do you smell any hint of night soil on them?"
Sharon's face drained of color in an instant.
Her hand flew to the hairpin on her head before she even realized it.