The roses have withered again.
I watched the beautiful lady walk past the garden. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, did not spare it even a glance. Such a sight was hardly worth looking at, yet worth enough to call the gardener for. For someone who lived her life in luxury, control, and power, one dead flower meant that someone's job was about to be taken away—lost over the smallest mistake.
From my window, a man wearing a straw hat immediately knelt toward the lady. He lowered his head, bowing as deep as his body could get, however the gardener is just another object to the lady—disposable anytime. Her callousness, he was not spared from it.
She kept her gaze forward, carrying herself with dignity. I noticed her lips parted, saying something inaudible. Leaning forward, I stick my forehead to the glass window, thinking that it would help me hear what was being said two floors down. However, I don't need to guess what was told to him. Judging by how the gardener's face sank, I can tell that he just lost his job.
The lady left the pathway, and the gardener was left alone. Maybe sensing that I was watching him, he slowly stood up, removing the straw hat that was shielding his face from the blinding sunlight. The gardener looked up, his eyes—terrifyingly cold—darted towards my window, staring with such pure hatred and malice I am not sure where it was coming from. I hastily closed the curtain to shield myself from his hateful gaze, but even behind those dark curtains I could still sense the gardener that I instinctively took a step back, jumping out from the sudden noise behind me.
"What is it?" I turned towards the door.
"Miss, the madame is waiting for you in the sitting room." The maid went straight to the cabinet. "Do you want to change first?"
I shook my head. "It's fine."
I'm already wearing a casual pink dress that hugs the top of my body and a flowing skirt that reaches my ankle. This much is fine to meet the woman who locked me up in this lonely estate years ago. Such grand welcoming is undeserving of her. I'll be scolded, yes, but she always kept quiet about it.
I followed the maid down the hallway, we descended the stairs, and went to the sitting room on the first floor. I quietly followed her until she opened the large mahogany door, revealing a young looking woman. She was the same as before, her hair was neatly tied to an elegant bun, not a single loose strand sticking out. Her clothes, always that same long white dress that hugged her body, complimenting every curve that she worked hard for, and the same cold and unfeeling smile that sent shivers down my spine.
I met her gaze — although smiling, her eyes are nothing like it. I can see how it scans everything, from my head to toe, it immediately takes note of every single detail that is wrong.
"What's with your hair? It's unkempt." Taking the tea cup from the table, she gestured for me to sit down across from her. "What's the purpose of your maids if you look like that while meeting your own mother? I'm paying them to look after you, yet look at how ordinary your appearance is!"
Taking my time to sit down and taste the tea that was served at the table, I only answered her after I put down my cup.
"I don't want to make you wait, mother." I grimaced at the black tea's bitter taste. "It will take a long time to fix my hair and I know you are too busy."
Her eyebrow raised. Ignoring my remark, she took out something from her handbag and laid it at the table. It was a portrait of a young man and it didn't take long for me to understand what it was for. Arranged marriage is very common in wealthy households. The parents often decide who they want in the family, and they only have two criterias when choosing them: One, if it will make you more fortune, and two, if it will make the family name prestigious.
I bet the man that she chose is someone with a title. The Bennett family are said to be a descendant of an aristocratic family from the 1800s, and that title also ended there. Our grandfather, who lost the title, became a businessman instead and amassed a large asset. The family's wealth is deep rooted that even my mother is so strict in managing and in maintaining the reputation of the family name. She was so obsessed with it, that's why everything should be nothing but perfection. Even her child.
"He is Alexander Cavendish, the eldest son of the Marquess of Westburry. He will come and meet you next month. He is currently abroad to handle a family business. They are branching out their winery in Asia so he's very busy at the moment." My mother explained. "He is a fine man. I checked his background thoroughly. No women. No vice, nor anything that is out of ordinary."
I looked at the image. Indeed, Alexander looked like a good man. He has this honey blond hair that curls at the end, and his blue eyes, which are smiling just like his small lips, made him look like an innocent labrador.
Maybe he's also obedient, like a good dog.
"Make a good impression once you meet him." Mother continued. "We'll decide the wedding date after that. For now, you two are to be engaged."
She left after that—no questions were asked, just visiting for the sole purpose that I am to be engaged to a man that I've never met. After throwing me out in this estate, none of my family ever visited me to ask how I was.
An unwanted daughter.
I scoffed at myself. Even after a long time, the memory is still vivid like it only happened yesterday, memories that left me such an unforgettable impression. Heartless mother… I was only five back then, and she looked at me with pure horror as she hurled those hurtful words, screaming like a banshee which was unbecoming of an elegant lady.
"Get her out of my sight! That child is possessed!"
I was sent to this place that very same day—alone and still dependent on everyone. Only a few maids and attendants were sent after me, afterall, they can't just abandon a child of the family, lest it become an issue that will mark their downfall. So they decided to send a five year old girl to a secluded castle that they own, forever hidden from the outside world.
It was far from the civilized city, the abandoned castle has long been built at the heart of nature—its stone walls, tall and wide, stood like a sentinel that guards the forest. It was the perfect prison for me, nobody would ever dare to explore deep in the forest that is near a cliff. It was one of the reasons why this castle was abandoned in the first place. Nobody wants to live in it, such a place has become unconventional ever since the city developed.
I was homeschooled after that. The family thinks I was possessed and unlucky, and the only time they went to see me was when they needed a daughter to raise the family name. Although defective, I am still an important object. A prized possession.
Taking Alexander's portrait, I went back to my room and hid it in one of the books that I have finished reading—wanting it forgotten. This engagement… It was nothing but a one-sided decision. They did not even let me meet him first then decide after that. It was as if the future was already set in stone.
And I don't have a say in anything.
I sat down on my bed—too exhausted to even lift a finger. Just meeting my mother is mentally draining, especially when she only comes because I am needed somewhere I can be useful, as if she never abandoned me in the first place. What a cold family. I rolled around my bed before finding the right position that helps me relax, after that, I just let my thoughts drift away until my eyelids became heavier and heavier.
Then darkness came.
Sensing danger, my eyes fluttered open—a dark, bluish room greeted my sight. Thanks to the moonlight reflecting from the opened balcony, I can faintly see my surroundings. My gaze roamed around the room, from the curtain lightly dancing from the wind, to the small tea area for receiving guests in my room. Nothing was out of ordinary, it's stillness reminds me that everything is still the same, until a thought dawned on me.
I looked back at the opened balcony door. I remember that it was closed since morning because October's approaching—the month when winter is slowly approaching, so the maids always made sure that all windows were tightly shut whenever they cleaned the room in the morning because of the biting cold.
I clutched my blanket while my gaze slowly moved towards my right—the door… I need to see how far away I am from the exit, however, such an attempt has long been forgotten when I saw my own reflection from the body mirror at the corner of the room. It stared back at me in horror as I sat frozen in my bed—a man's silhouette quietly standing beside it—tall, mysterious, and unmoving. Then a small whimper came out of my lips, an attempt, but my scream betrayed me as the fear had already eaten away the last bit of braveness that I had in me.
What should I do?
I felt my hands trembling as the silhouette moved towards the bed, its hand reaching forward to touch me. I tried to move away but a dark, velvety voice immediately froze me in place.
"Don't." He whispered, and I felt my world slip into oblivion.