“Is everything sorted?” one of the knights asked, nudging his companion with his elbow. The other knight scratched his head sheepishly.
“Yes, have you been waiting long?” Elena replied with a gentle smile, choosing not to elaborate further. She knew that because of her, these unsuspecting individuals had been on guard duty for hours, unable to rest properly. It was all due to Kennard’s orders, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Elena and Cura led the way down the corridor, the knights trailing behind them. The chatter that had filled the air outside the bathroom ceased as soon as they laid eyes on Elena. Unnerved by the scrutiny from behind, Elena felt every step forward weighed down by the intensity of their gazes. The corridor seemed interminably long, and she longed to retreat to the safety of her bedroom.
My bedroom, Elena chided herself inwardly, admonishing her subconscious thoughts. Despite her indebtedness to Kennard, she continually forgot her rightful place. It seemed preposterous that she, of all people, occupied such a luxurious and comfortable space exclusively.
Upon reaching the door, Cura took the lead, deftly opening it before stepping aside. The knights positioned themselves evenly on either side, their rigid stances against the wall indicating their readiness.
“Please rest,” one of the knights offered, nodding towards Elena. His counterpart mirrored the gesture, albeit with a hint of awkwardness. Flustered by their deference, Elena returned their bows with a quick nod before hurrying into the room.
As Cura followed and closed the door behind them, the room enveloped them in darkness, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the flickering flames in the fireplace. Elena’s eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden change in light as she made her way towards the dressing table. Just as she reached it, a sudden jolt of fear paralyzed her, rendering her unable even to cry out.
For a brief moment, Elena detected a presence, a faint scent that hinted at someone’s presence nearby. “Why did you stop?” Cura, who nearly collided with Elena’s sudden halt, inquired, taken aback by the abrupt pause. Without a word, Elena gestured towards the room’s interior with a pointed finger.
There, by the fireplace, a mysterious shadow loomed. “Step back,” Cura urged, seizing Elena’s wrist and guiding her towards the door. Just as she was about to call out to the knights outside, a voice interjected, “No need to make a fuss.” Seated casually on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Hazel emerged from the shadows, surprising Elena once again with her unexpected presence.
A wave of shock washed over Elena as she realized Hazel was her unexpected visitor. “How did you…?” she began, her astonishment evident as she glanced at Carmen, who stood nearby, casting the shadow.
Cura, too, breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense up again upon realizing it was Hazel. “It was quiet, so I decided to investigate. With no guard dogs or homeowners around, I figured it was safe to enter. Was I mistaken?” Hazel explained, her tone nonchalant.
Elena furrowed her brow involuntarily at Hazel’s words. The “guard dogs” Hazel referred to were the knights, and Elena herself was the supposed “homeowner.” “I’m not the homeowner, and the knights are not dogs,” Elena clarified tersely.
Hazel shrugged, her expression turning confrontational despite her exaggerated smile. “Oh, I see! The knights are His Grace’s dogs, and you…” she trailed off, spinning around dramatically. While her smile remained, her eyes betrayed a sense of hostility. “It’s baffling that someone like you would own such a luxurious room. It’s beyond belief that it’s even better than where I live. What’s the deal here?”
Elena remained silent, realizing she knew little about Hazel’s circumstances. If, as Hazel claimed, her living conditions were worse than Elena’s, it was understandable for her to feel resentful. After all, Elena was just a commoner while Hazel hailed from nobility.
“If you desire a room change from His Grace, or if I should request it on your behalf…” Elena’s words trailed off, causing even the forced smile on Hazel’s face to vanish. With a swift motion, Hazel gripped the back of the sofa, rising gracefully to her feet and smoothing out her dress hem with a sweep of her palm. Despite the late hour, her elaborate hair ornaments and attire remained pristine.
She advanced towards Elena slowly, each step deliberate, until she stood within arm’s reach, her hand poised mid-air. “Are you attempting to be considerate?” she inquired, her tone tinged with skepticism.
“If it is Lady Hazel’s wish, I can approach His Grace regarding the matter,” Elena replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, the weight of the moment rendered her breathless, as if lightning had struck right before her eyes, leaving her momentarily stunned and disoriented. It felt as though her cheeks might flush with embarrassment at any moment.
