[MUSIC RECOMNDATION: CAN YOU SEE MY HEART ~ HEIZE]
In soone’s distant mory that had now turned blurry, a young boy was held by his mother. The woman looked at her son with so much adoration; to her, the boy was like her only hope.
"Why are you crying, mama? Are you sad?" The boy’s tiny voice faded out as he spoke calmly.
The woman sniffled back her tears and shook her head, "I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m very happy," the young woman lied.
But the small boy didn’t understand this response. To him, a person was only supposed to cry when they were sad. "But Mama, when you cry at night, is it also because you’re happy?" He asked with a furrowed brow.
"Of course!" The woman exclaid. "I dream of you, so I cry happily in my sleep."
The small boy reached out to hold his mother’s hand, bringing it close to his face he said, "Mama, you don’t have to lie when you’re with . I see you, and I know you’re hurting. In front of others, you can act okay, but in front of , it’s okay to cry. I will console you," the little boy said with a small smile.
The woman got down on her knees, the tears she was holding all these while finally flowed freely on her face. "Such a smart boy I have; I don’t deserve you," she said to her son.
The small boy shook his head, "You deserve everything good because you’re a good person," he said to his mother reassuringly.
The woman sniffled her tears, touching the boy’s tender hair, she said, "I also want you to be a good person, even better than . In a world filled with evil and malevolence, make sure you are different." Saying this, she pulled her son into a warm hug.
When the little boy pulled away from the hug, he furrowed his brows, "Mama, why is your face looking different?" He asked as the person who now held him had no resemblance to his mother.
The little boy panicked and took a step away from the woman who now held him, who was not his mother. When he looked down, he saw himself standing in a pool of blood, and beside him was his mother.
"Mama... mama..." The boy’s voice faded as he continued to call out for his mother.
"Cortez... Cortez... we’ve arrived."
Cortez opened his eyes to see the innocent hazel eyes that now stared directly at him. He smiled, but it was not his usual smile; this one was dull and sad.
He brought his hand forward and touched Axilla’s face, and this caused the girl to blink. "Thank you for waking up," he said, brushing his hands mindlessly on the girl’s face.
Axilla brought out a handkerchief that was tied on her waist and she used it to dab his face, "You’re sweating so much, are you okay?" She asked worriedly.
Cortez held the girl’s tiny hand, "I had a dream, a long dream that makes tired," he sighed, bringing Axilla’s hand very close to his forehead. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he grinned.
"Let’s go inside." Cortez finally let go of her, stepping down from the carriage first, he helped bring Axilla down. Then he walked to his own quarters.
Axilla stood where she was, watching his back. Sohow his back looked very sad; she hadn’t noticed this before, but looking at Cortez from behind made her want to cry, and she didn’t know why.
"Axilla, there’s a letter for you. You traveled before it arrived, but I kept it sealed for you." One of the rchant assistants handed the letter to Axilla.
Axilla bowed, "Thank you." She took the letter and walked towards her own room. When she opened the letter, it was from Lady Jenna. Axilla smiled; she had been looking forward to eting with the woman again.
Kayla stepped inside Axilla’s room after knocking once on the door. "Axilla, what are you doing? Missing Morado already?" The young girl asked, stepping inside the room.
Axilla folded the letter and placed it carefully on her table, "Yes, what about you?" She asked with a smile. "I don’t need to ask, I know you enjoyed your stay in Morado."
Kayla clapped her hands together, "You know it!" Then she went to lie down on the bed, kicking her legs in the air. "I can’t wait to see the king and his personal guard."
Axilla shook her head, "You’re hopeless," she remarked.
Kayla stuck out her tongue and continued daydreaming about the King of Morado and his personal guard.
Axilla rembered sothing and said, "Kayla, I have a favor to ask you. Tomorrow, can you make a dress ready for ? Lady Jenna wants to visit her mansion, just ."
Kayla sat up from the bed, with a frown etched on her face, "Why? Why would you go to see her? Alone at that. Don’t you know she is Chief Cortez’s forr woman? What if she hasn’t gotten over him?" The girl asked.
Axilla waved her hands dismissively, "I don’t think that’s the case; Lady Jenna hasn’t given any reason to suspect her. There’s nothing to worry about. But if it worries you so much, I can request for you to follow ."
Kayla nodded her head, "Better, I’ll follow you. I don’t really trust people that easily, you see. Especially won when it cos to matters concerning the heart; they can be fickle."
Axilla smiled; she knew that Kayla didn’t an any harm but just wanted what was best for her. Briefly Axilla’s mind rembered the look on Cortez’s face when he woke up, and she pressed her lips.
"I hope he is okay," she muttered under her breath.
Away from Axilla’s room, inside the one that belonged to the rchant’s Chief, Cortez sat on the couch, with a glass filled with wine in one hand, and his other hand resting on his forehead with his eyes closed.
His head was burning up, and he was coming down with a fever. It had been a long ti since he had that particular a dream, but it resurfaced now and he needed to talk to soone else about it.
He knew that if Axilla should hear his story from others, then he would lose the chance of ever gaining her trust. But how was he supposed to tell her? How was he supposed to tell the woman he loved so much that he was the one who killed his own mother?
The old mories flashed in Cortez’s mind again, causing his hand to tremble, and the next mont, the cup he was holding crashed on the ground, breaking into tiny pieces, his shirt soaked at the back, and he walked to the bathroom to change it. That was when he noticed the red stain of blood.
Cortez looked at his reflection in the mirror, which had now turned dull. "Not again," he muttered.
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