Hazel wasn't bothered by the man, but there was something about the old woman's commanding presence that warned her against letting her emotions cloud her thinking process.
"Since you've already come this far, it would be terribly rude to leave without seeing me. Come here... Join me," the old woman said flatly.
Hazel's heart pounded harder.
All she wanted to do was turn around and disappear because of the chilling feeling she got from the old woman, but she looked like the kind of person you didn't walk away from without consequences.
Swallowing down her nervousness, she wiped her tears and walked forward.
As she entered the gazebo, the scent of warm food greeted her. A long table sat between them, neatly arranged with an impressive spread—fresh fruits, pastries, eggs, delicate dishes she couldn't name, all plated perfectly.
"Sit." The old woman's eyes flickered to the chair opposite from her.
Hazel hesitated for half a second before obeying.
An unsettling silence stretched between them before a growl from Hazel's stomach broke the silence.
She bit her bottom lips, half-embarrassed.
"You were quite loud for someone who haven't had breakfast," Madam Blackmoor mocked, making heat rush to Hazel's face in embarrassment.
"I—"
"That wasn't a question."
Hazel's fingers curled slightly. Why did this old woman intimidate her this much?!
"Go ahead. Dig in."
She shifted uncomfortably as she noticed the old woman's sharp, watchful eyes slowly scanning her from head to toe, lingering just a little long.
Then Madam Blackmoor's gaze stopped at her neck, and slowly shifted to her collarbone. She took notice of the faint but unmistakable marks blooming against her skin, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.
She leaned slightly toward the man standing beside her and whispered something too low for Hazel to hear. His eyes flicked briefly to Hazel's neck before he straightened, bowed, and left without a word.
Hazel's stomach twisted.
The old woman finally looked back up, her expression smoothing into something almost… pleasant.
Almost.
"The dishes are not to your palate?"
"Uh—n-no. They look nice," Hazel replied quickly, clearly caught off guard.
"Then why haven't you touched anything? Is it because there are no maids standing by to serve you?"
"No, that's not—"
"You should understand... I detest having them hover around during my meals." Madam Blackmoor's eyes flicked briefly toward the empty space where the servants should have been, then returned to Hazel.
"At my age, it's uncomfortable having untrusted people on standby while trying to enjoy a meal that's half as appetizing as it looks."
"..."
"You'll understand after spending a decade or at least half a decade in this household." Her eyes flickered to the hickeys on Hazel's collarbone once more. "A piece of advice from this old lady... starving won't do you any good. If anything, you need strength. Food. So do yourself a favor and eat, Avril."
Hazel's stomach tightened.
Avril. Again.
This people clearly has her confused with someone else!
Her stomach growled again and she hesitantly served herself.
The old woman smiled faintly. "Tomorrow is the gala. I know you haven't forgotten."
Hazel looked at her but said nothing.
"Everyone important will be there. You'll be by Alastair's side." She studied Hazel's face, hoping to get a reaction, but when that didn't happen, she continued, "Mozzarella will arrive today. He'll bring several designs of dresses, jewelries, and shoes for you to choose from. You'll select what suits you best."
Hazel stared at her. Wasn't Mozzarella the biggest stylist in New Midnight City who was almost never accessible?!
She was right. This old woman wasn't ordinary at all!
The man from earlier returned, but he wasn't alone. He came back with a girl who panicked the moment her eyes fell on Hazel.
"Mrs. Avril... I've been searching all over for you. What are you doing here?"
Hazel frowned.
The girl dressed in the uniform she recognized all too well as a maid's attire froze the instant her eyes landed on the old woman.
Her face drained of color. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees, nearly hitting her forehead on the floor.
"I—I'm so sorry, Madam Blackmoor. Please forgive this disturbance. It's all my fault. I should have been watching Mrs. Avril more carefully. I promise—it won't happen again." Her voice trembled with genuine fear.
Hazel was stunned by the display.
The gazebo fell into a suffocating silence.
Madam Blackmoor did not speak immediately. She simply watched the girl kneeling before her with an unreadable expression.
Everyone in the household knew the old woman did not tolerate disruptions or forgive carelessness. And she most certainly did not like anyone invading her private space—not even her own family.
"I don't recall granting you permission to speak."
The maid flinched. "I—Forgive me, Madam."
Hazel's pulse quickened as the old woman's eyes shifted toward her. The sudden shift in the room did not go unnoticed.
"I invited her."
The maid blinked.
Madam Blackmoor set down her teacup. "I asked her to join me so there was no disturbance."
The maid's head snapped up slightly in shock before she quickly lowered it again.
She had worked here long enough to know—Madam Blackmoor cherished her privacy more than anything. No one dined with her or lingered in her gazebo. Not even blood relatives were welcomed.
Yet she had invited Avril? And was defending her?
"We're done now. You may take her. See that she's settled."
"Thank you, Madam Blackmoor," she said quickly, bowing again. There was relief in her trembling voice as she carefully rose and turned to Hazel.
"Mrs. Avril, please… come with me."
Hazel didn't argue. She didn't look back. All she wanted was to leave that suffocating gazebo and the piercing eyes of Madam Blackmoor, so she followed.
She could easily escape from this madness as long as she wasn't with this old woman.
The moment they stepped beyond the old woman's quarters, the maid's composure shattered. Her knees nearly gave out, but she skillfully steadied herself.
Hazel stopped behind her, stunned.
"I was so worried, Mrs. Avril. Please don't run out of the mansion like that again. I don't know what happened earlier with Madam Blackmoor, but she's rarely that forgiving. Let's… let's not get into trouble for the time being, okay?"
Hazel's patience snapped.
"My name is not Avril," she said firmly. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?"
The girl's head jerked up, her eyes widening in pure shock.
For a split second, she simply stared at Hazel as if she had just witnessed something impossible. Then she quickly turned her head, scanning the place to ensure no one was within earshot.
Seeing that the space was empty, she exhaled shakily.
"M-Mrs. Avril…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you remember?"