This may seem sudden, but I must confess that I made a grave mistake.
My transgression is that I was unable to completely predict where this path we were traveling led.
My hands were full dealing with my immediate day-to-day tasks, so I could do naught but pray there was happiness waiting in the future.
Happiness for everyone who lived within Rose Manor.
But I am but a mere maid. There are limits to what I am allowed to do. And furthermore, it was not my place to offer her my hand.
Roads, such as the one we were following, have a way of diverging with little warning.
And if you do not turn the wheel exactly right at those sudden forks, you may end up somewhere horribly off course. I was well aware of that fact…
which is why I thought that what I did was for the best.
…
"It's happening again. I made sure the door was closed… but I can sense someone standing there. Someone watching me… … Footsteps… They're looking down at me? I want to open my eyes, but I can't do it. Curses… You're just going to leave without doing anything, aren't you? Then hurry up and get out of here. Free me from this torture. …! No, tonight they're– They're on my bed now, looking down on me. My neck– Wh– I can't speak! I can't move!"
—...Ngh.—It was a groan right near Mell's ear.
"These cold fingers… That soft breath…"
—Wh… Why…
"I can move my body. But that's not important right now."
—You smell of roses. The scent of a world far removed from ours.—It was The White-Haired Girl's fingers on his neck
He made to gasp at the sight before him, only to realize he could not.
The pressure of her cold fingertips wrapped around his throat robbed him almost entirely of the ability to breadth.
"Why?"
He silently mouthed the word. For that moment, at least, her melancholic ruby eyes were focused wholly on the flaxen-haired young man.
In them glowed a faint flicker of willpower–and a continuously burning agitation that roused her to action.
—I told you… to stop being so kind to me.
"...Why?"
—It… It will all be over soon. Please don't make any noise.
"...Why?"
—To put… To put an end to this family, you are my only…
—...Why are you shaking?
—Wha–
Upon hearing Mell's words, the strength drained from her slender fingers.
He had not been questioning "why" she would do such a thing.
There was, of course, a trace of bewilderment visible in his eyes.
But he did not shout, nor did he tremble in fear. He instead expressed concern for the young woman who looked like a cornered. rabbit.
—I… I am not… shaking…
—You are. I can see it.
As he slowly regained his breath, Mell's voice too grew clearer.
Conversely, the red-eyed girl's grew progressively more faint and raspy.
—You are not doing this because you genuinely want to. There is some other reason…
—This is… what I desire.
—Have you been to my room before?—No answer from the White-Haired Girl.—You have…
—I'm sorry…
—Ahaha. Well, I'll be damned. Tell me, why are you shaking? You're not putting any pressure on my neck.
—Why haven't you run?
—Because I cannot fathom why you would do this, so I'm not afraid. Do you hate me so deeply you want me dead? Do you despise me to the point you would be willing to take my life with your own hands?
—...No. No, I don't…
—See? Like I said, there's another reason. If it isn't because you detest me, then tell me, why is it?
—I am sorry. I will leave your room now. I will do my best not to bother you any further, so please forget anything ever happened.
—Do you think I'm just going to say okay and let you go?—Another silent response from The White-Haired Girl.—Why can't you tell me the reason?
—I'm sorry…
—All right, then I'll try and guess.
—What?!
—It has… something to do with your lineage. You're troubled by it somehow. Am I right?—Still no response from her, only her eyes widened a bit.—I thought so…
—How… do you know about that?
—The priest at the church told me he had seen you before. He also told me, um, a little about your origin… But that's all I know. The only difference between us is social rank. I don't know what would cause you to do this. Please, tell me who you really are. Tell me why you came to the mansion, and why Father allowed you to be maid. I haven't said anything to Mother or Father. If you're hiding the truth from them, they still don't know. But I want to.
—I…
—I won't get mad at you or have you punished. I'll even sweat to God, if you'd like. I… I want tob e the prince who whisks you away. I want to be like the prince who reduced the girl from the dark mansion and showed her the world. I know I'm not that dependable… but I want to help you.
—Why… do you show me such compassion? Why do you treat me like this? I have my hand around your neck!
—Why? I thought it would be obvious. Or have I not expressed myself well enough?
—I–I love you.—Mell places his hand on her cheek, his action is met with a silence.—Every time you push away, it crushes me. I didn't even know my heart could feel such distress. If you dislike me… and don't want to be with me… then, well, I'll just have to live with that. As much as it may hurt. But if you have some other reason, some weight on your shoulders that you can't share with anyone else, tell me. I want to help you. There are other options. Things we can do about your–
—N-No. That's not it!
—Huh?
—I… I've tried to hate you, so many times… So yes, there's more to it… than just social status…—She stopped in her words for a second.—But… I can't do it. I couldn't make myself do it.
—What do you mean?
—I had so many chances… but I couldn't do anything.
She spoke in a stifled voice, as if every word had to fight to escape her lips.
She appeared so fragile, so precarious looking down on him that it seemed as though, if a gust of wind were to whisk through the room, it would blow her away completely.
Her pale fingers were trembling, like she had tried to squeeze them again and failed.
However, her hand did not pull away from his still-slender neck.
"Her hand… is so cold."
He did not challenge her, but simply kept his eyes affixed on hers, as if carefully watching to see what she would do next.
—I'll say it as many times as I must: I love you. And I wouldn't be able to accept losing you without knowing anything. So please, tell me the reason. I'll see to it that you're taken care of…
—Those are the words of a man of means, Lord Mell. Of someone blessed enough to have pity for others.—Mell didn't have anything to say for that.—You are a foolish young man. You know nothing…—Mell still was silent.—But the greatest fool of all… is myself. If you agree to punish me, I will talk.
—Tell me.—It took Mell a few seconds to get words out of his mouth again.
Her long white hair and his soft flaxen hair touched; for just the briefest of moments, it appeared in the darkness as though they had fused together.
The White-Haired Girl, having finally gathered the courage, began to slowly tell her tale.
—On the night of the storm, I paid a visit to Rose Manor–this mansion. My father and I were always on the move, traveling across the land by foot, so it was only recently that we heard rumors of Rose Manor. There are several reasons we couldn't stay in one place. First… is my unusual appearance. People often find the color of my skin or eyes disconcerting. So after living in one place for long enough, unsettling rumors would begin to spread, forcing us to leave. Another reason… was my father's line of work. He painted pictures for a living. But he had trouble finding a patron, so he had to work day-to-day… When he was no longer able to find work in a city, we would move. We were birds that migrated without a flock. When we arrived at this town, my father was exhausted and weak. This is when we learned of Rose Manor… and the family who dwelled within it. Rhodes is a name my father could never forget. He was, long ago, a painter in service of the Rhodes family.
—H-Hold on… Your father was an artist here?!
—...Yes. It was before I was born, so you probably don't remember, Lord Mell.
—So… you knew about us before you came here?
—For as long as I can remember, I've known the name Rhodes.—She closed her eyes.—My father was chased from your house! Just because they didn't like something he painted!—Mell's eyes widened a tiny bit from her words.—Having failed the Rhodes family, no one else would become his patron. Just as a good reputation spreads, so too does a bad one. Branded once as a failure, no one will take you in ever again! You nobles throw your parties and spread your gossip about this painter or that sculptor! The rose you tried to give me is an example of that. It was certainly crafted with skill, but the jeweler is only known because some aristocrat spoke highly of him. My father's paintings were no less skillful! His was a talent that could not be easily imitated! But no one was willing to separate the art from the artist. The Rhodes family stole everything from my father. But even thrown out onto the streets, his only skill was painting. That was all he could do to earn a living. What little money we had for food, he gave to me. He did anything could to ensure my survival, even at the expense of his own well-being.—A tiny silence.—My father passed away in this town. Up until his last breath, he was only ever concerned about me… He held me in his arms and ran his fingers through my hair, an apologetic look on his face. If I had a normal appearance… I'm sure life would have been much easier. He was always telling me how sorry he was for making life so hard, even though it's not his fault I look like this.—Another silence.—I disdained the Rhodes family for putting us… no, for putting my father through such hardship. I imagined you were still living in decadence, acting as though nothing had ever happened. No, you wouldn't even care about the fate of one simple painter. Our lives meant nothing to you… And so, I sought to bring misfortune upon you.
—And that's… why you tried to kill me.
—In truth, I had wanted to take the master's life, but your father spends so much time outside the mansion. And so…
—You're right–if they lost me, it would put my family in a very difficult position.
—That is the whole of my tale. You now know about my father–and how I feel about you. Having… Having told you of the blackness in my heart, I cannot go on living like nothing has changed. Please give me punishment.
—Why… Why would you have me put the one I love through any more misery?
—I… am not fit for your affection. Not only because I am not aristocratic… but because every time I spoke with you, I did so holding this darkness in my heart. Does that not unnerve you?!
—In the end, it was my family's actions that caused you so much suffering. Would that your father were still alive, perhaps I could have done something. I'm sorry.—The White-Haired Girl was silent.—And besides, you hesitated. You didn't actually kill me. What am I even to punish you for? As you said, you had countless opportunities, but you could not bring yourself to do it. Tell me, why couldn't you kill me?
—Because… I…
—If… If it's because I've given you enough reason… to have even the slightest bit of interest in me…
—Nothing was as I envisioned it.
—What?
—I assumed the residents of Rose Manor would be cold, people who believed that wealth and rank mattered above all. But on the night of the storm, the mistress was the first one to extend her hand to me. I arrived at the mansion disguised as a beggar–Actually, "disguised" is not the right word, as many nights I only survived on the generosity of others. The mistress did not send me away when she saw me. Quite the opposite–she took me in as a servant.
—So that was Mother's doing.
—I could scarcely believe she would invite a stranger into her home–that she would treat a stranger with such compassion. I thought perhaps she knew who my father was. But I had never met any of you before, so she must simply be that kindhearted a woman. And the mistress continued to treat me with kindness, despite my disquieting appearance and the darkness in my heart. In time, I began to grow less and less sure of myself. Was what I meant to do truly right? Were the things I felt truly justified? But it was a certain fact… that my father was here, and he had been chased out. So I decided I should take your life–to put an end to everything before I wavered any further. And then… And then…
—And then?
—Y-You were too kind to me… It's all your fault… Because you laugh with such affection, because you give me smiles like that, because you say the things you say…
—You…
—I-I'm sorry…
—No, no, don't apologize. Ahaha… I'm so happy to hear that. Despite, uh, the unusual circumstances… Please, don't say you want to leave. Don't ask me to punish you. I couldn't do anything for your father, but at least… allow me to do something for the daughter he cared for so dearly.
—You are far too kindhearted…
—I'll be happier with you around. You can become a real aristocrat.
—Huh?
—There are families that would be willing to adopt you. Especially knowing it would bring them ties to the Rhodes family in the near future.
—Are you saying… um…
—A-As long as you're okay with that, of course!
—I-I don't understand… how you could possibly say that. I have my hand around your neck even as we speak.
—It seems reasonable enough to me. I'm desperately looking for some way to not have to lose you.
—B– I-I couldn't… I don't know any etiquette or social customs… How could I…
—You can learn all of that. You're pretty naturally graceful; you'll do just fine.
—U-Um… You are such an aristocrat, Lord Mell.
—Wha–
—Th-The way you can come up with compliments so easily…
—O-Only for you. Nellie says my poetry has as much charm as a dissertation. I don't understand theatre… It puts me to sleep.
—Hehe…
—You laughed. Thank goodness.
—Ah…
—Keep smiling; you don't have to stop. A smile on your face is a smile on mine. No matter how deep the darkness has taken root in your heart, it can always be removed. I believe… people are capable of forging their own futures.
—I…
—What do you say we got to the theatre some time? I promise I won't sleep through it. At the private theatre, we can get seats at the far end of the second floor, so we don't have to stand. They would be pretty lavish seats… and it would give you a chance to experience the noble life.
—But…
—Please, don't be shy. I can have clothes prepared for you. I'll ask one of the maids who can keep a secret. Say, the one with black hair. She kind of scares me, though, ahaha.
—I… don't know what I am supposed to say. How could you… show such compassion for me? I tried to inflict harm upon you… Am I allowed… to feel such joy?
—For every day you suffered, a day of happiness. That's how it has to be. So stand by my side.
He softly whispered the girl's name.
For several long moments, her lips trembled in trepidation. But in time, she squeezed them together and made a smile.
He wrapped his arms around her unbelievably slender, frail frame, holding her tight in an affectionate embrace.
Mell approached me the next day.
He explained to me the course of events, and then asked me to dress her up more beautifully than any other noble girl had even been.
She was already a very pretty girl, so even without much effort on my part–simply putting her in a dress–she radiated beauty.
I was quite partial to her smile, so I agreed to help, thinking that if it would lead to their happiness, I could not ask for anything more.
I never anticipated what would happen next, though.
Perhaps my hopes were unreasonable, after all.