7

[Rebecca]
As Artemy exited the room, a sigh of relief escaped me. Nona noticed my reaction and gave me an odd glance. “Is everything alright?” she inquired. I struggled to decide whether to burst into laughter or crumble into tears.
Clearly, everything was far from okay. Instead, I managed to muster a feeble voice and replied, “Yes.”
Nona regarded me with suspicion but chose not to press further. Offering me a small smile, she turned her attention to the other two maids. “This is Bethany,” she introduced, pointing to the blonde maid who stared back at me blankly.
I nodded in greeting.
“And this is Susan.” The short woman with caramel skin and tightly bound black hair waved at me with a friendly smile. I returned the gesture, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
“Welcome,” Susan whispered softly. At least two people in the room didn’t seem to harbor ill intentions towards me.
“Now that introductions have been made, Susan and Bethany, get back to work,” Nona commanded sternly. Both women left the kitchen without a word. Nona grasped my arms and gently guided me towards the stools. “Sit,” she instructed, and I obediently complied. While rummaging through the refrigerator, she asked, “Have you had breakfast yet?”
I shook my head, then realized she couldn’t see my response. “No, I haven’t,” I replied.
Nona closed the fridge, her arms brimming with ingredients. I reached out to assist her, but she shook her head, declining my offer. Returning to my seat, I patiently awaited her next directive. As Nona prepared breakfast, she animatedly engaged in conversation. She exuded excitement, as if she hadn’t conversed with someone in a long time. She spoke about various topics, some of which made little sense. She shared her experiences working as a maid and expressed surprise upon learning that I was the youngest one among them.
“Hmm. Artemy never hires young maids. He believes they lack competence.” I chose not to disclose the circumstances of my hiring, and Nona never inquired, so silence prevailed. With each passing moment of her chatter, I gradually felt myself unwind. The tension in my shoulders dissipated, and I slouched into the stool. Crossing my legs, I rested my elbows on the bar and cradled my chin in my hands, attentively observing Nona’s monologue. Her voice had a soothing effect, and I couldn’t help but smile.
She possessed a sweet and endearing nature, and I found solace in her presence. I lost track of time as I sat there, absorbed in her words. Eventually, Nona approached me with a plate, placing it in front of me while offering a warm smile.
She nodded towards the food and said, “Dig in, hon.” The plate was filled with toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, fried diced potatoes, and a small bowl of mixed fruits. She observed me with a tender expression.
My nose began to tingle, and tears welled up in my eyes. Sniffing, I directed my gaze towards the food. Nobody had ever prepared a meal for me in such a manner.
Yes, back at my father’s estate, I had maids who served me food, but it lacked any semblance of care or affection. Nobody bothered whether I ate or not. It was as if I didn’t exist, merely living as a shadow.
My heart tightened, and I clutched the fork with trembling hands. With each bite I took, a tear rolled down my cheek. Swiftly wiping it away with my free hand, I proceeded to savor a second bite, then a third. With every mouthful, it felt as though my heart could burst at any moment. When Nona softly patted my hand, I glanced up, my eyes rimmed with red. She offered me a sympathetic smile and nodded, silently assuring me that everything would be alright. Nona refrained from asking any probing questions; she simply accepted me. Turning away, she resumed filling the other plates. I returned my gaze to the food, then focused on the hand she had touched. Kindness was a rarity in my life.
In fact, I had never truly experienced it before. My days were confined to the confines of my room, and my nights were plagued by nightmares. Kindness was an unfamiliar concept to me. However, through that simple gesture from Nona, I witnessed kindness for the first time. I felt it for the first time.
While cleaning the smooth surface, I overheard Nona inquire, “Darling, have you finished?”
Shifting away from the bar, I faced her and responded with a smile, waving the cleaning cloth in the air. “Almost there. I just need to finish wiping down the bar.”
“Alright. Wrap it up quickly, and then you’re done for today.”
It has been a week since I began working at the estate. I had no prior knowledge of cooking or cleaning. Back at my father’s house, I had maids who handled everything while I remained confined to my bedroom.
However, Nona assisted me during the transition, always treating me with kindness. When she assigned me tasks, she made sure they were limited to cleaning. I was always in her company, so the other maids wouldn’t pass judgement on me.
Despite knowing that the house was occupied by numerous individuals, I was surprised at how rarely I encountered anyone other than a few scattered maids, as if everyone was concealed in the shadows.
Most of my time was spent in the kitchen, aiding Nona in meal preparation, and afterward, I would clean up. The initial three days were dreadful, and I was certain Nona had a good laugh at the messes I created. However, I was gradually getting the hang of it.
A few minutes later, I completed my tasks. Wiping my tired forehead, I slumped against the counter. Usually, I finished around seven or eight, but due to the guests visiting the estate, it was exceptionally busy, and now it was close to midnight.
After swiftly inspecting the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t missed anything, I switched off the lights and exited. Just as I closed the door, I noticed Nona approaching me.
“I’m finished,” I proclaimed with a brief smile. She approached and embraced me.
“You did a great job,” she remarked as she pulled away. Nona was an affectionate woman and had become like a mother to me during my short time at the estate.
When I was only a year old, my mother passed away, depriving me of the experience of having a caring mother. Consequently, I clung to Nona’s affectionate nature, allowing my heart to accept the presence of someone who cared for me, filling the void of my lonely childhood.
After exchanging goodnight pleasantries and nodding at Nona, I made my way to my room, feeling the weight of tiredness in my legs as I ascended the stairs. However, my progress halted when I noticed the open door of the sitting room, which stood between my room and Artemy’s. Glancing around and finding no one in sight, I cautiously approached the room, a nervous gulp betraying my apprehension. As I drew closer, I observed that the lights were on, prompting me to lean forward and peek inside.
To my surprise, the room was empty. Intrigued, I ventured inside, directed by my gaze toward the piano positioned beside the expansive windows. Two days prior, I had been assigned the task of cleaning the sitting room, which also served as a library. As I stepped in, the grand piano immediately captured my attention.
Music had always provided solace to me. During my time at my father’s estate, I would play the piano daily, finding refuge in its melodies. It allowed me to escape from the memories of the torment inflicted upon me by Raaffaele every night. By losing myself in the music, the rhythm, and the gentle sounds emanating from the keys, I could temporarily block out the painful experiences.
With each step closer to the piano, my heart quickened its pace. Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be there, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. Standing before the bench, I leaned forward and delicately placed my hand on the piano keys. My fingers yearned to play, even just one song. Yet, I restrained myself, mindful of the prohibition against entering this room unless it was for cleaning purposes. Gently gliding my fingers over the keys without pressing them, I let out a heavy sigh, stepping away and allowing my hand to fall from the piano. Casting a final melancholic gaze upon it, I departed, consumed by a profound sense of desolation. Closing my bedroom door behind me, I leaned against it, exhaling wearily, and then wearily closed my eyes. The room was dimly lit, save for the small lamp on my nightstand.
During my conversation with Nona, I discovered that I was the only maid who didn’t reside in the maids’ quarters. The revelation surprised both of us, but I didn’t dare question Artemy’s decision. It seemed beyond my place to do so.
Sluggishly, I began undressing, gradually removing my dress, my body languid. Tossing the black dress onto the nightstand, I blindly reached for my nightshirt on the bed. Just as I was about to put it on, a deep, raspy voice emerged from behind me.
“I must admit, you have a beautiful body.”
A piercing scream escaped my lips as I swiftly turned towards the voice. Though the intruder remained concealed in the darkness, I didn’t need to see him to recognize who it was. That voice was etched into my memory, my body intimately acquainted with it.
Artemy.