When I opened my eyes, the dim morning light filtered through the thick curtains, painting the familiar room gold. A slight burning sensation on my eyelids made notice the tears that had dried on my skin while I slept. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, exhaling a long sigh that was lost in the silence.
"Promise..." I said to myself in a low voice.
I stood up slowly. My body still felt heavy, almost numb, as if the mory of that dream refused to let go. I forced myself to move, letting my feet touch the carpeted floor, and crossed the room to the bathroom.
In front of the mirror, I paused and frowned slightly. I still found it hard to accept this effeminate appearance: my silver hair fell ssily over my pale face, and my cold red eyes reminded of the blood on that battlefield.
—Tch... pathetic. —I muttered, trying to swallow the knot tightening in my throat.
I showered with warm water, letting the steam fill the room, carrying away the faint scent of sweat and the weight of the previous night. When I ca out, I dried my hair with a towel, adjusted my outfit—a simple black linen set—and took a deep breath, ready to face another day in this damned family.
—Knock, knock... young master, may I co in? —Alice’s voice sounded low and restrained behind the door.
—Co in. —I replied without much interest.
The door opened softly, revealing Alice in her usual immaculate uniform, her blue hair tied back in a simple bun and her face so pure that it seed almost out of place in that gloomy mansion. She held a tray in both hands, on which rested a modest breakfast: a piece of bread still warm, a small bowl of butter and a cup of dark coffee.
When she looked at , her expression changed imdiately. Her large eyes widened slightly, tense, and her lips trembled before she tried to form a smile.
—I’ve brought your breakfast, young master. —she said gently as she walked in and set the tray down on a small table by the window.
But instead of leaving imdiately, she stood there with her hands clasped over her apron, looking at with a mix of doubt and concern.
—Is sothing wrong? —I finally asked, raising an eyebrow.
—If... if I may, young master... —she replied, bowing her head slightly—. Your hair is still damp. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold...
Before I could reply, Alice slowly stepped closer and took my hand delicately. The contrast of her cold skin against mine made shiver. Why did I allow her to get so close? Why... couldn’t I push her away?
—This way, please. —she said, gently guiding toward the dresser.
I let her lead without protest. There, she picked up a jade comb and began to untangle my hair with slow, almost hypnotic movents. Every so often, her fingers slid along my neck, pulling away stray damp strands that clung to my shirt.
—Such beautiful hair— she murmured to herself, with a faint sigh.
(...)
I said nothing. I simply watched her through the mirror.
Her focused face, the way she barely furrowed her brow each ti the comb found a difficult knot, the slight movent of her lips as she held her breath...
For an absurd mont, her silhouette reminded of Helena.
The emptiness in my chest twisted with complicated emotions. I shook my head lightly, trying to chase away that feeling.
—Alice. —I said suddenly, my voice rough, one I didn’t quite recognize.
She flinched a little, lifting her gaze until it t mine in the reflection.
—Yes... young master?
—You can stop now— I cut in harshly, standing up with a sowhat abrupt movent.
—Y-young mast...?
I raised my hand, stopping her before she could continue.
—Leave alone —I ordered, turning my eyes toward the table where my breakfast rested.
Alice lowered her gaze, took a breath, and gave a small curtsy before leaving the room.
With so disgust, I shoved a piece of bread into my mouth and took a sip of the coffee.
—Bitter... —I muttered, as the drink burned slightly down my throat.
***
A few hours later. I finally left the room.
There she was, sitting on a bench against the wall. When she saw , she stood up so quickly she ended up tripping, falling clumsily against my chest.
—Ah... young master! F-forgive ... —she stamred, her face flushed as she clutched the hem of her skirt tightly.
—It’s fine —I said dismissively, but then, thinking again, curiosity pricked at —. Alice, tell ... who are you waiting for out here?
Her awkward expression vanished instantly; she puffed her cheeks slightly, in that way that seed like she wanted to scold .
—You, of course —she replied, with a firm tone that didn’t quite suit her—. I am your personal maid, young master. It is my duty to accompany you at all tis.
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