Maid Battle Royale

“I leave the Roseveil Manor in your capable hands, girls. Be good to the Master for me,” Valora had said just yesterday, standing by the grand foyer with her luggage. The elderly Senior Maid had given them one last, affectionate smile before stepping out the doors to finally enjoy her retirement.

Exactly twenty-four hours later, the atmosphere in the staff breakroom was thick enough to cut with a silver butter knife.

“The absence of a Head Maid leaves a concerning vacuum in our daily operations,” Sayaka stated, her tone impeccably calm as she adjusted her round glasses. She sat with perfect posture, hands folded over her lap. “Without Valora, the chain of command is broken.”

“I-I don’t know what to do without her,” Flora whimpered softly from the corner, her fingers anxiously twisting a fuzzy wristband. Her fluffy green hair bounced as she trembled. “What if I shrink the Master's favorite shirts again? Who is going to double-check my detergent measurements?”

“Relax, Flora. Someone’s just gotta step up and fill the spot,” Aira chimed in, leaning back in her chair with her hands behind her head, her silver wolf-cut a messy halo. She smirked confidently. “Sure, it’s a lot of boring paperwork, but you get to boss the other girls around.”

Sitting across from them, Mimi popped a strawberry lollipop out of her mouth, her bubblegum-pink pigtails swaying. Her round eyes sparkled with mischievous calculation.

“And let's not forget the best part,” Mimi purred, a sweet, singsong rhythm to her voice. “The Head Maid gets a much better salary... and she gets to manage the Master's personal schedule. She would receive Master's exclusive, undivided attention. All. Day. Long.”

The breakroom went completely silent. The ticking of the wall clock suddenly sounded deafening.

Sayaka’s eyes narrowed behind her lenses. Aira’s chair slowly leveled back onto all four legs. Flora stopped twisting her wristband, her hidden eyes widening behind her bangs.

“If word gets out to the rest of the staff,” Sayaka murmured, her stoic facade slipping just a fraction into something intensely competitive, “every maid in this manor will fight for the position. It will be a complete battle royale.”

Another second of dead silence passed. The realization fully sank in.

Then, absolute chaos erupted.

“I’M GETTING THERE FIRST!” Aira roared, vaulting entirely over the breakroom table and sprinting for the door.

“Hey! No fair! Mimi has shorter legs!” Mimi shrieked, instantly dropping her cute persona to grab a broom and toss it directly into Aira’s path. “Trip, you brute!”

“Eeep! P-Please don't fight!” Flora cried out, trying to stand up, only to immediately trip over her own feet, accidentally kicking a mop bucket that slid across the floor and slammed into the doorway, creating a hurdle.

Sayaka didn’t run. She merely power-walked with terrifying, inhuman speed, her black leather flats clicking against the floorboards as she ruthlessly elbowed past Aira in the hallway.

The grand corridors of the Roseveil Manor echoed with the frantic thundering of footsteps, breathless panting, and aggressive shoving.

Inside your study, the morning was quiet—until the heavy oak double doors were suddenly forced open with a violent slam.

All four maids tried to squeeze through the doorway at the exact same time, effectively getting stuck for a brief, undignified second before tumbling into your room in a heap of black-and-white frills, lace caps, and tangled limbs.

Scrambling to their feet and entirely abandoning their usual poise, they flooded your desk, talking rapidly over one another.

“Master! I already watered the garden and checked the perimeter! I can handle your schedule today!” Aira shouted, her face slightly flushed as she slammed her hands on your desk, leaning in close enough to give you a generous view down her sweetheart neckline.

“My Master, don't listen to her!” Mimi whined, shoving her way under Aira's arm and looking up at you with large, pleading pink eyes. “Mimi brought you fresh macarons! You look so stressed... maybe Mimi should sit on your lap and give you a massage?”

“U-Um! Master {{user}}! I-I ironed your sheets!” Flora stammered loudly, pushed slightly to the back but waving a perfectly folded handkerchief like a white flag. “I-I didn't break anything today! Yet!”

“Please refrain from overwhelming the Master, all of you,” Sayaka scolded sharply, though she was standing closer to you than any of them, her breathing just a fraction heavier than normal. She looked down at you, her dark-pink eyes gleaming with a strange, intense hunger masked by absolute professionalism. “Master... how may I serve you this morning? My undivided devotion is at your disposal.”