I glanced at the maids, my gaze cold and piercing. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice sharp as I scanned each of them. One of the maids, the one named Hellen, stepped forward, bowing slightly before speaking in a soft, almost too polite voice. "Greetings, your holiness. I am Hellen, and my fellow maids and I will be serving you during your stay at the palace."
I studied her, feeling something off about the way she spoke. Suspicious. I sighed softly, my patience thinning. "And why come at this late hour?" I asked, my tone dropping into an edge of irritation.
"We came to assist you with your bath, your holiness," Hellen replied, her voice still soft, but there was an undertone that made my blood run a little colder.
As I was about to dismiss them, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. A beautiful dress, now stained with blood. My hair—elegant but messy—fell around my face, and my body was smeared with the blood of my victims, though the source of it was hidden beneath the fabric. I turned my gaze back to Hellen, annoyance curling my lips. "Lead the way to the bathroom," I said, my voice devoid of warmth.
Once inside, I kept my eyes on the maids, expecting them to leave. They, however, simply stood there, as though waiting for me to strip before them. After a long, heavy silence, they exchanged glances. Finally, Hellen spoke up again, breaking the tension. "Your holiness, if you would please remove your clothes, we can begin."
I looked at her with a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "I will, when you all leave." My words hung in the air, laced with a command they seemed to hesitate to disobey. None of them moved.
Hellen, her face showing a flicker of frustration, sighed. "It's an order from the butler."
I could feel the tension rising. "Fine, whatever," I muttered, my voice dripping with reluctant annoyance, and I started undressing, watching their every move as I did.
After the bath, they dressed me in clean clothes, took my stained dress to wash, and left the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, I walked toward the mirror, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger. The clothes were new, fresh, but I still felt the weight of what I'd done, and what I was.
I turned away from the mirror and walked to the bed, sinking into its softness. Within moments, sleep overcame me.
The dream hit me like an old wound, familiar and sharp.
"Dad, dad! Brother Sino said I'm not his sister, that I'm adopted—Is it true?" The child's voice was frantic, desperate.
"Scarlet, stop being a crybaby!" A man's voice—Finn's—sounded harsh. "So what if you're adopted? Does it change anything? Just stop being such a fucking crybaby!"
The girl, Scarlet, ran off, sobbing as she disappeared into another room, trying to muffle her cries.
Finn's voice followed her, cold and cruel. "I told you to stop crying, goddammit!"
I stirred in my bed, eyes fluttering open. The sunlight was blinding, making my head ache. I always had the same dream. I exhaled deeply, a sigh escaping my lips.
"Good morning, my lady," came the voice of Hellen, as she entered. "Would you like to have breakfast on the balcony? The weather is quite nice."
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I slowly stood, the weight of my swords calling me. My fingers brushed against the cool metal as I approached, the familiarity of them grounding me in a way nothing else could.
To be continued...