The Beast of the Albard Mansion - Chapter 12
I brushed the straw off my hair and smoothly lied.
“I was looking for something.”
“In the haystack?”
“Yes, I thought it might be here since I couldn’t find it anywhere else.”
“What exactly were you looking for?”
“A small ball.”
“A ball?”
“Yes, but it seems it’s not here.”
Hawk looked at me suspiciously, but I kept my expression unchanged.
“Did you even have a ball, my lady?”
“Whether I have a ball or not is none of your concern, Hawk. Besides, it’s been a while since we had a conversation like this. Are we becoming friends again?”
We hadn’t spoken since last autumn. Hearing this, Hawk’s face turned pale, and he quickly turned away.
“Oh no! Please find your ball quickly and return to the mansion. I never saw you here. You were never in the stable.”
He even covered his eyes with his hands as if to ensure he wouldn’t see me. Normally, I would have felt hurt and disappointed, but not anymore. I was just as eager to leave this place as he was to get rid of me.
“Get back to work, Hawk. As you said, I was never here.”
***
I left the stable with a spring in my step. Each jump made the keys jingle in my pocket.
Although I wanted to go straight to the dungeon with the keys, I returned to my room because it was time for my etiquette lesson.
I could roam the mansion like this because I hadn’t been caught. If my etiquette teacher or mother found out, I might be confined to my room.
Mother only frequented a few places in the house: her room on the second floor, the reception room, the dining hall, and the garden path. She avoided other areas as if they were contaminated, especially the stables, which smelled of horse dung, and the kitchen, which smelled of food.
She despised the maids’ quarters and the attic, where I used to play as a child. After discovering I had been playing in the dusty attic, she had all the attics nailed shut. If she found out about my wanderings, she might nail my door shut too.
“What is this terrible smell?!”
My etiquette teacher shrieked as soon as she saw me. Embarrassed, I sniffed myself. I must have smelled like horse dung after being in the stables.
The teacher, insisting a noble lady must always smell pleasant, doused me in perfume. The strong perfume was worse than the smell of horse dung and gave me a headache. I had to endure the lesson trapped in the room, reeking of a mix of strong perfume and horse dung. It was torture.
By the time the lesson ended, it was evening.
Tonight, my parents were attending a banquet, so we didn’t have to eat a family dinner. Usually, we had to gather around the large dining table every evening, but sometimes, like tonight, my father’s schedule canceled it. I called these nights my evenings of freedom. It was a delightful time when I didn’t have to sit on a hard chair for two hours.
Before every meal, my father would recite a prayer, give advice to my older brother, and boast about how prestigious and dignified our noble family was. He would also brag about his contributions as the 13th Count of Albard. After his self-praise, he would ask my brother what should be done to bring more prosperity to the family. My brother’s answers were always predictable: raising taxes, reducing tributes to the royal family, or cultivating unused land.
Father would click his tongue in dissatisfaction and say, “Let’s eat,” and only then would dinner begin. This whole process took more than an hour, and the repetition bored me to the point of breaking out in hives.
Ellie brought my dinner on a tray. She set the tray on the table and massaged my arm.
“You seem to have lost weight lately. You look good. But you must finish your meals. Why aren’t you eating? You need to eat well to stay healthy. Although noblemen like frail ladies, being healthy is best.”
Ellie often said strange things. When I picked at my food, she would insist I needed to eat to stay healthy. But if I gained weight, she would act as if the world was ending. She said that while noblemen liked frail-looking ladies, it was best to be healthy inside. Eating a lot was good, but gaining weight was bad. She constantly contradicted herself without seeming to realize it.
“I already ate.”
“Is that all you’re going to eat? Eat more. Or should I bring you some cookies? You know eating cookies at night isn’t good for you.”
“Yes, bring me some cookies.”
“Oh my, you’re impossible, my lady.”
