Once again, as she walked down the wide corridor of the difficult school, Darla sighed, watching the garden through the long windows. Even the books she carried weren't hers; she was just doing odd jobs.
She had no other choice, though. Not only was she at the same school as the Earl's only son, Roger Ramìrez, but she was also in the same class as him, constantly hearing his threatening sentences that began with "if you don't..." and ended with "your mother will lose her job and you'll lose your school."
The psychological blows he had suffered had caused him considerable harm, yet he had become someone who did everything he wanted to live, no matter how 'dark' his desires might be... though he was not only serving him, but also his friends, a group of wealthy snobs. He had officially become their puppet, but so far he had made no mistake... Until now...
Clutching the books tightly in his hands, he swallowed hard, continued forward, and stepped through the ornate door at the end of the corridor, knocking lightly. This wasn't his class. No. This south-eastern section had been closed off long ago. There had been an explosion at one point, but they hadn't demolished it. "I wish they had," he thought to himself. "Then this wouldn't be a place for bad people."
The laughter and chatter inside made him nervous, but he walked towards the sound in the pitch-black environment. Three boys and a girl, he was at the bottom of the caste system while they were at the top, a visible reality.
Without lingering on them too long, he bowed his head before them with his puppet-like movements and expressionless face.
"My lords, I have brought your books."
Today they had only asked him to bring their books, the simplest and most reliable task in the world! He was happy with that. Until...
"Alright, put them on that table and come closer," said Thomas Dorer. The softness of his bitter coffee-coloured hair was apparent from ten metres away; just from that, an outsider could tell he was wealthy.
Bowing his head again, he headed towards the table. Since Darla's arrival, a silence had reigned in the room; the silence of the devils.
She gently placed the books down and clasped her hands in front of her pale grey dress, walking towards Thomas sitting on the red velvet armchair, her eyes fixed on the floor, not looking at their faces, because she had suffered quite a bit in the early days when she started school, that is, work.
Thomas took a sip of white wine from his glass and placed it on the small oval table beside him, resting his wheat-coloured hands, clasped just above his crossed legs, on the table. "Bring your face closer," he said in a mocking tone.
He tensed but did not resist; he did as he was told and immediately felt the imprint of a swift slap on his face. The redness on his pale skin was unsettling; he did not even have the right to rub his cheek. "Have I done something wrong, sir?" he asked, his eyes downcast.
"Oh, Darla. When did you ever get such a simple punishment for making a mistake? Just... I felt like it." He licked the wine from his lips.
He felt like it, that was all. He had the power to hurt her just like that, and he was using it. The reason was simple, very simple: he felt like it. Her thoughts bowed before him again without risking anything. "Forgive me for asking such a silly question," she was used to using these words simply.
Thomas looked at the other members and laughed nervously. "I hate this girl's attitude! No matter what I do to her, she doesn't put on a pained expression!"
Lazara took a small sip of black tea from a purple cup decorated with rose motifs and replied. She always had a calm tone of voice and calm movements, although these behaviours could be considered special gestures towards Thomas. Still, Darla thought he was the worst; if a woman was hanging out with a group of men like this of her own free will, you couldn't say she was a good person.
"Calm down, Master Thomas, after all, we don't feel like making him suffer because he is like that, and we can do our job. Right?" Her long, ash-coloured hair fell over her thin, pale body, masculine, frilly, and beige, and her lips smiled. With his black-lensed, round-framed glasses, which he never took off, he was certain no one could see his eye colour.
The reason he was called master was because he was the king's third son, the most senior in rank. Thomas blew out a breath and folded his arms in front of him. "We have a gift for you," he said to Darla. The young girl shuddered secretly in horror, for the gift he referred to was the coded name of a terrible task.
While waiting for her reply, the man who held the strings of her life handed her a small note: Roger Ramìrez.
This man's presence or absence was a factor that affected his life. His father was the emperor's advisor, and he himself was Thomas's closest friend. The real problem was that Darla's mother worked as a servant for Roger's father, which enabled her to attend such a prestigious school. With a single sentence, both his mother's and his own life would be ruined, and he did not want that. They had actually known each other since childhood. Roger used to be kind to Darla, so how had he become like this? Darla could never figure it out.
She took the note from his hand and opened it:
William Nolen
She trembled with fear and, despite herself, looked into Roger's eyes, his fierce blue eyes.
"But sir... he's a soldier, how could I?"
Roger stood up and stood in front of Darla. He was quite tall, so he seemed to be looking down on her from above. The rose-pink tones of his clothing represented Fowich, the capital of the country of Dorer. Unlike Anthony and Thomas, he somehow liked to wear light colours. Well, that was the theme of the country of Dorer.
"What? You won't do it? Is that what I understand?" he said. With his cold hand, he stroked Darla's flushed cheek, his eyes contemptuous while his lips curled into a smug smile. "Take her out to dinner, charm her with sweet words. If necessary, show her the beauty given to every woman. Do you understand?"
Darla nodded without realising it; she had no other choice. She didn't want to, but she was helpless, utterly helpless. She wanted to read, to learn, to discover, to be happy... she wanted to live, like every human being...
He quickly withdrew his fingers from her face and waved her away with his hand. "Go on now, little puppy~"
She clutched the hem of her dress to hide her trembling hands, curtsied, and quickly left the room. She was scared, very scared. Roger touching her was always a big warning, a forewarning of a terrible punishment. That's why she had to do it, she had to.
William Nolen... that name was irritating. He was a young man from Gorliway, known as the cold country, who had come to Robert's Baker for his final year of training. He was clearly from Gorliway, with a muscular, large physique. He was said to be a soldier. Since his arrival, his imposing stature and blunt, harsh temperament had caused everyone to fear him. It was probably Roger and his snobbish group of friends who, unable to tolerate someone else drawing so much attention, had made him their target. Reactionary.
His eyes darted around as he walked, lifting his skirt slightly to go faster. He finished the long corridor in one breath, unsure where to find it, constantly scanning his surroundings. She scanned the many people walking around, looking and looking but not finding it. The upper classes were always on the upper floor, one floor above her own class. Her head began to spin and her stomach churned. When she turned around, she bumped into a hard wall. She was startled as she lifted her head from this body, though her search had come to an end.
"Are you well, my lady?"
His cheerful disposition was evident even in his khaki uniform, which seemed to bloom like flowers. "Mr William, thank God you're here. I was looking for you." Rubbing his forehead, he hadn't expected her to be so warm. Perhaps she was just a gossip.
He looked in surprise at Darla's blue oceans, and when their eyes met, his cheeks flushed. Was he a shy man, or was he pleased with Darla?
"I was curious to know why a lady as beautiful as a pearl would be looking for me."
After that sentence, Darla began to think her task would be easy; if a Gorliway man is kind to you, it's not a lie, her mother always said.
"Robert's Baker is a big school. It has its own exclusive and stylish restaurants. I wonder if, as the day ends, with me..." She blushed, even if it was fake; the effect Thomas had left on her cheek was enough help on its own. If her acting skills hadn't developed, she wouldn't have lasted long anyway. "I don't know how to say it, I'm so embarrassed... please excuse me."
William was getting more and more flustered. He thought Darla liked him, so he averted his eyes and scratched the back of his head, where his brown hair was cut short. "I'd like you to finish your sentence. Otherwise, I can't accept this offer."
He was hooked, caught in her net! Suddenly, his thoughts contradicted each other. Was he glad that someone had fallen for him... that it hurt him? He had messed it up by hanging out with them, no, no! He was sacrificing his own salvation; he had never had a choice.
"Um..." he said, playing with his fingers, "would you like to have dinner with me? You've caught my attention since you arrived."
He gave a sincere smile. "Of course. If I choose the meal, then please grant me your name, let that be our agreement." He leaned over and placed a single, elegant kiss on Darla's hand.
She played with her long, wavy auburn hair, her cheeks flushing even more, and nodded her head in agreement to the offer. William gently released her hand after her acceptance. "I'll be waiting for you in the front garden at 10 o'clock tonight," he said.
As he walked away, Darla waved goodbye, her face turning to ice again. She took a deep breath and returned to the corridor she had come from. The job had taken less time than she expected, though with each task she was assigned, she was becoming quicker and quicker, and with each task she completed, another piece of her humanity was torn away and lost. The path she walked back on slow steps always left her in limbo. She looked out the window again and sighed, murmuring, "If there is a heaven, I lost it long ago."
Her high-heeled feet carried her a little further, and she found herself once more at the ornate, aged door. She knocked and entered. The conversations inside stopped again, and everyone stared at Darla with strange looks because she had arrived quite early. Thomas stood up angrily and shouted, "What are you doing here!? Go do your job!" He was angry.
She bowed as usual and said, "It's done. I invited him to dinner; he accepted."
They looked at each other in surprise, Roger more engrossed in the situation than the others. "What?"
"Just as I said, sir."
He stood up and walked over to him, grabbing him firmly by his short shoulders and shaking him. "How dare you lie to us? It couldn't have happened so quickly; you only just left!"
Darla didn't react, but the fourth and final member of the group, Anthony Cobbin, spoke up. This antisocial individual only opened his mouth on matters he considered important. "She's not lying. Leave the girl alone." Although protective, he was not really like that; he believed in giving those who deserved it their just punishment. Perhaps being the son of Erza Cobbin, a man of the Dorer blood and the Era religion believed in by his people, had made him that way. whatever the case, his all-black attire, his raven-like nose, and his kohl-lined eyes with drooping lashes made him resemble a terrifying angel of death.
Roger let go of the girl's shoulders in irritation and surprise, letting out a crushing laugh, but the truth behind that laugh was that Darla had handled the situation so quickly. He always looked for her weakness but never found it, and he hated that. "Ha ha ha! What did you do to her? What did you say to convince her? Or... did you really offer her your virginity? You disgusting peasant, people like you are truly beyond redemption."
She answered with momentary confidence, him face still looking down. Whatever the others said, she was a little hurt when they spoke to him, since he lived in the same mansion. "No, sir, I just invited her to dinner."
He grabbed the girl's chin and squeezed it, lifting her up from the ground as if it were part of his daily routine, forcing her to look him in the face. "You insolent girl! And you dare answer back!?" Darla's expressionless face and limp body only made him angrier, and he threw her down hard. He rubbed his temples and turned to the others, "So, are we doing it tonight?" Normally, they would punish those they caught the next day, but Roger's patience had already run out.
Thomas took a sip of the wine Lazara had just refreshed and grinned.
"Yes, tonight we're torturing William Nolen until he gives up the ghost."