"Who is that?"—Mell finally looked through the door.—"Her skin, it's so pale you can practically see through it. Is it what white because she was out in the cold rain? Her hair is white as snow, and her eyes… they're like… Like How do I describe it? My vocabulary truly lacks for situations like this. They look like…"
Like blood?
"No, that's just disturbing!"
Then wine, perhaps?
"No, more translucent than that…"
Gemstones, then?
"Yes, gemstones… Her eyes are like rubies. I've never seen anyone like her before. What could they be talking about?"—Mell's eyes were affixed on the peculiar young woman.
She had glasslike skin, eyes that glimmered in the flickering candlelight, and snow-white hair that flowed like luxurious silk.
But her lips were bluish-purple; her soft delicate skin sullied with grime; her twinkling eyes pointed
down at the floor; and her hair a disheveled mess.
She was, even at a glance, clearly not a lady of means.
The tips of her fingers were cracked from the cold, her nails pale from malnutrition, and her garb little more than rags.
However, the true beauty is always visible, no matter what it may be hidden beneath.
Even wrapped in a veil of insalubrity. Even if she thought herself hideous.
"I wonder what happened to her…"—Mell could no longer avert his gaze from the girl's visage.
He had, for the time being, forgotten the same he felt for peeping.
As he strained his ears to hear the conversation taking place inside, a sickly voice arose from the White-Haired Girl's purple lips.
So feeble was the sound that a gentle breeze blowing through the room could carry it away.
—I apologize for the trouble…—The White-Haired Girl muttered.
—Think nothing of it.—The Maid said.—Give your apologies, and thanks, to the mistress.
—Understood…—The silence passed.—There is something strangely comforting about this house—almost as if I've been here before… If my father were here, I'm sure he would be quite fond of it.
—I am sorry about your father.—The Maid said
—That's not—There's… nothing you could have done, I imagine. When you came to our rescue, he was already…—
"Rescue? Father? Was that, perchance, what the commotion was about?"—He stared intently, entranced by the scene unfolding beyond the door.
A gaze can often signal one's presence to others more effectively than words.
She flicked her gemlike eyes upward.
—...!—That was when the boy finally felt a pang of panic.
For a split second, his flaxen eyes met her ruby eyes, causing him to recoil from the door.
His heart was pounding like the rain outside. Careful not to make a sound, he took one, two steps away.
"D-Did she catch me? I'm… not sure… I-It was only for a moment. She can't have seen me."—The boy did not have the courage to peek in on the room a second time, so he cautiously returned to his bedchamber as quietly as he could manage.
But even beneath his covers, he could not erase that girl's eyes from his memory.
Her melancholic red irises. Her voice, delicate as a glass sculpture. Her pale, almost lifeless skin. Her pure-white hair.
Every singular detail kept him from banishing her image from his mind.
Nor could he restrain his heavily pounding heart.—"Who could she be?"
…..
—Is something the matter?—The Maid responded to the White-Hair Girl's nothing.
—No… I just thought I felt someone watching us…
—Hehehe. It's only your imagination, I'm sure..—The Maid pay it off easy without response from the Girl.—If not your imagination, then perhaps some unseen force was watching you.
—...Unseen force?
—Are you familiar with how people refer to this mansion?—The Maid smiled a tiny bit.
—Rose Manor…—The Girl muttered the response.
—Yes, indeed. It is called Rose Manor because you can smell the sweet fragrance of the rose garden even at a great distance. But that is not what I meant. It is said…—The started after being met with another silence.—that a witch resides within the house.
—...A witch?—The Girl's eyes were still pinned to the floor.—I have not heard any such stories.
—You probably wouldn't have.—The Maid smiled.—It was a very, very, long time ago. Nothing you need concern yourself with.
—You have… a peculiar presence about you.
—Should I consider that a compliment? Hehehe…—The Maid seemed easy about it.—It's getting late; you should get some rest. A room has already been set aside from you. But first, may I ask you one thing?
—Yes?—The Girl's answer was simple.
—I do not believe you have given me your name yet.
—My name…—She muttered.—My name is—.......ell.
…..
—Wake up—Get up, Mell!—Nellie's voice rises.
—...Wha?!—Mell came with his senses.—Huh?!...It's morning?
—You disappoint me, dearest Mell! It's very much long since morning! I didn't see you at breakfast, so I came to find out what was the matter.
—I've really been asleep that long?—He tried to pay it off lightly.
—And Father is too lenient on you, dearest Mell. Oversleeping is hardly proper behavior for a firstborn son!
—I-I know…—He muttered.—But before that…
—Yes, dearest Mell?—She finally smiled.
—What are you doing in here?!—He seemed serious with a question.—You can't just go prancing into a boy's bedchamber! Leave that to servants!
—I did send one for you. You're the one who refused to wake up.—Her smile was still present.—Besides, it's not like we're strangers. We used to sleep together all the time.
—That was long ago.—He was standing on his own.—Things are different now.
—Oh, you overthinking it, silly.—Her mood was still light.—Now hurry up—out of bed, sleepyhead!|—All right, all right, I'm getting up. So you can see yourself out—
—Oh my, you look awful, dearest Mell!—Her mouth opened on its own.—For someone who overslept,—Her light mood was faltering.—you look like you didn't get a wink last night!
—Y-You think so?
—You didn't go out on the town last night, did you? Naughty, naughty boy!
—I-I-I-I would never! You know that!
—You squeaked. I don't think I believe you.
—I didn't go out last night or anything… I'm tired because… you had me playing cards until late, Nellie.
—Heeey, we weren't playing for that long!—She sulked.—Besides, look at me! I got up just fine!
—A-Anyway! Shoo! I can't get dressed with you in here.
—Fiiiine, I'm leaving.—She sulked a bit before leaving the room.
—...Phew.—Mell felt easier.
—Oh, I almost forgot, dearest Mell!—She stopped right before the exit.
—Wh-What now?!—He seemed somewhat annoyed.
—Come on! No need to be mean! I'm sure you'll be quite surprised at the news.
—Oh?—His mood lightened slightly.
—At breakfast—which you missed—Father told us…
—Told you what?—He tried to look actually interested.
—Do I really want to say? It sounds like you want me out of your room, dearest Mell!
—Please, Nellie.—He seemed honest.
—Hehe.—She smiled.—We got a new maid today, for a house we have ties to, supposedly. I've never seen anyone like her before. For supposedly coming from a good family, she isn't very graceful, and I've never seen her at social gatherings. But that's not the surprising part.
—Does that maid…
—She's peculiar! Has a very unusual appearance, that one…
—...have white hair?
—Wha—How do you know that, dearest Mell?—It was an actual surprise for her.
—Thanks, Nellie!—His eyes darted away for a second.
—H-Hey! Get back here! Oh, for goodness' sake, what's gotten into him?...Bah.
At the time, the majority of servants at the mansion were men.
However, the ladies of the house all had abigails so there were several women servants, myself included.
The maids, by and large, were selected from the daughters of other esteemed families.
It was, you could say, a sort of training before they entered society. The girls would serve at houses even more powerful than their own.
And the White-Haired Girl Mell saw the night before was one such maid.
When he heard this, Mell could not sit still any longer.
—Oh, uh, I didn't really think this through, did I? I don't even know where she is. I'm guessing… she's probably Mother's maid. White hair…
"It has to be the girl from last night. But..."—Deep down, he was having difficulty believing the young woman he had seen the previous night was truly here to be a servant.
And can you blame him? When he saw her, she was an absolute mess—hardly what you would envision from a girl of class.
But he did not seek her to find out whether that was true.
He merely wanted to see her once more, to ascertain whether what he had witnessed the previous night was real or his imagination.
And he wanted to have an actual conversation with her.
"I don't want to run into Mother… That would be awkward."—He was heading toward his mother's bedchamber, but the closer he drew, the heavier each step grew.
He rounded a corner, debating whether or not to head back—and stopped in his tracks
On occasion, wishes do come true. When Mell turned the corner, he saw her—the same girl. That same white hair.
—Ah…—Mell's first reaction was simple.
She appeared to be cleaning the hallway.
She traced along the wooden carvings lining the walls, making certain not to miss even a speck of dust.
The girl wore a pristine dress–the uniform of the mansion's abigails. There was no longer any filth to obscure her beauty.
All that had covered her pure-white hair and glasslike skin was no longer. The one thing that had not changed was her listless ruby eyes.
—Pardon me…—Was Mell's first reaction.
Hearing his footsteps, the young woman raised her head. She caught Mell's gaze and for a brief moment merely blinked at him in silence.
—Lord Mell, yes? Your father informed me of you.
—D-Did he?—He smiled.—I guess I don't need to introduce myself, then.
I believe she made an attempt to smile, though it was difficult to tell, and she quickly dropped her gaze back to the floor.
Flax and ruby met only for the briefest moment.
She seemed to be looking at both someone and no one at all.
—Everyone here truly has the most beautiful color of hair. … Did you have business with the mistress, Lord Mell? I can let her know, if you would like.
—No, I was looking for you…
—For me?—She finally raised her eyes to him.
Mell felt as though all the blood in his body had begun to flow backwards.
He could not effectively describe the sensation, but in a word, it resembled panic.
On his way to find her, Mell had come up with a number of subjects he wanted to talk about—and he generally had little trouble speaking with others.
He'd had less experience interacting with women, this was true, but the time he had spent around Nellie had kept him from stumbling too much.
Until then.
—Y-Yes! For you!—He smiled at her reaction.
—Why would you…—Her returns darted back to the floor.—be looking for me, Lord Mell?
—I– I was wondering how you were doing.
—...Pardon? I-I'm quite fine…—She muttered smally.
—G-Good! That's great to hear!
"You fool, Mell! What are you even saying?! You have more important things to ask–like where she came from. Or to tell her… she has pretty hair and eyes. But I don't want to trouble her too much…"
—L-Lord Mell?
—Yes?!
—Sorry, you just suddenly fell silent. Was I, um, in your way?
—I-In my way?! No, not at all!—His expression calmed a bit.—Wh-What are you up to?
—I'm… cleaning.
"Well, yeah. I didn't even need to ask."
—Ahh, you're cleaning!—He tried to seem surprised.
…...
—Oh, uh, you can just let the other servants take care of the cleaning. You're one of the nobles' daughters we took in, right? Then why is Mother making–
—No, I… I'm doing this because I want to. The mistress appeared to be busy, and I could not simply be idle.
—But…
—I enjoy cleaning.
—Well, if you say so…—He said after a small silence.—Say, um… Yesterday–
—This mansion is truly a thing of beauty.—She finally managed a tiny smile.—All the many roses in the garden–even the furnishing has had a great deal of thought put into it. This family must have a wonderful sense of aesthetic.
—Oh… Yeah, thanks.
"Did she… just change the subject on me?"
—I'm delighted to have been given the opportunity to serve at such a magnificent house.—Her expression returned back to blank.
—Mother and Father… actually had nothing to do with that. Not even the garden. That's all been around since my grandfather's time. This mansion was a complete wreck when he bought it.
—Oh, was it?—She seems to ask just to be polite.
—Yeah. Frankly, I'm surprised he actually paid money for it. The chandelier in the foyer was shattered and only half attached to the ceiling. Most of the decorations on the walks were broken
—I… can hardly imagine. This is a marvelous… impressive house.
—Ahaha. I'm sure he'd be flattered to hear it. My grandfather was a bit of an eccentric. He liked to do things people didn't expect just to watch the looks of surprise on their faces. He was the kind of man who would buy a mansion that was beyond repair just to give it a completely new life. Everyone who had seen the property before it was renovated was astonished. They regretted not taking the opportunity themselves seeing the transformation in underwent. Hehe.
—...Huh?
—I was just thinking that you're kind of like this house.
—What do you mean… by that?
—I mean, when you first arrived–Oh, uh, no, never mind. Forget it.
"She'll figure out you were peeping on her, stupid. She hasn't yet… has she?
—Yes?
—I-It's nothing.—He smiled at her.—The more I think about it, you and the mansion aren't really comparable.
—Oh?
—The truth is, it being a run-down mess isn't the only reason nobody wanted to buy the house. They say… That all who dwell within this house shall be met with misfortune.