Chapter 2: The Boy Louis
"Poor dear, losing her mother at such a tender age," one of the maids lamented softly, her sympathetic voice drifting through the crack in the door.
The room, adorned with delicate lace curtains billowing softly in the breeze, seemed to absorb the sorrowful whispers like a silent confidante.
"Cathy! Lower your voice, Miss might hear us," another maid chided in a hushed tone, her gentle reprimand barely audible over the rustle of the leaves outside the window.
*Knock, Knock*
"Miss Elise, I've brought your meal. May I enter?" A gentle voice interrupted the hushed conversation outside the door.
"Yes," I welcomed.
The door swung open to reveal a maid carrying a tray laden with food, flanked by the other two, their expressions a mixture of concern and intrigue.
"Sarah, do you think she'll become a permanent fixture here?" Cathy whispered, her freckled face alight with curiosity as she peeked over to catch a glimpse of the room's occupant. "My, she's so fair, like a porcelain doll. And she looks about the same age as Louis, don't you think?"
Louis? Is he the boy I caught a glimpse of earlier?
"Oh Cath, hush now," Sarah shoots Cathy a firm look, silently urging her to maintain decorum as she guides her away from the room, her honey-coloured locks cascading gently over her shoulders like a waterfall of sunlight.
"Don't mind them, Miss Elise. They mean well," the maid with the tray assured me as she approached. "I am Emma, and I'll be attending to you personally from now on, at His Grace's behest."
His Grace? So, the master of this manor is a duke? Could the gentleman from just now be His Grace? But he seemed too young to be a duke..
"I hope you find the meal to your liking. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm at your service," Emma said with genuine warmth in her voice, framed by her soft curls and kind gaze.
As soon as the food was presented in front of me, the aroma of savoury meats filled my nose with a tantalizing scent, mingled with the sweet scent of freshly baked bread and the delicate fragrance of herbs.
"Thank you..." I replied, taken aback by the lavishness of the spread before me, each dish a masterpiece of culinary artistry.
As Emma left, I carefully took a bite, unsure of how to handle such luxurious fare.
Mother would have loved this...
As I continued to eat slowly, memories of my mother's humble cooking flooded my mind, a bitter reminder of the flavours I'd never have the chance to taste again.
-
"Does the food taste bad?" A voice suddenly inquired, interrupting my train of thought.
"W-Who?" Startled, I looked up to see a boy standing outside the window, his head resting on the window sill.
It's him, the one behind the door!
"Ah..." His sudden appearance left me momentarily speechless. Gathering my composure, I managed to respond, "No, it's.. good."
"Then why are you crying?" He asked, as his eyes, piercing yet gentle, caught sight of my tearful expression.
"It's not the food. It's just.. I miss my mom," I said simply, my voice catching with emotion.
After a moment of silence, the boy suddenly leapt into the room, surprising me once again. He handed me a handkerchief from his pocket.
"Here," he said softly. "For your tears."
I hesitated for a moment, taken aback by his sudden gesture, before tentatively accepting the handkerchief. Its soft fabric felt comforting against my skin.
"Thank you," I murmured.
"Anytime," he replied with a smile, then leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity piqued. "May I ask your name?" he asked.
"Elise," I responded, my tone soft but steady, as I met his gaze with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"Elise," he repeated thoughtfully, as if testing the sound of my name on his lips. "I'm Louis. Nice to meet you, Elise."
So this is Louis, the boy Cathy mentioned. What relationship does he have with that gentleman?
"So how did you end up here?" Louis spoke up before I could dwell on it further.
"... My village was attacked last night," I finally revealed, the words heavy on my tongue.
His expression softened with empathy. "I'm sorry to hear that," he offered, his voice gentle. "It must have been terrifying for you."
Grateful for his understanding, I nodded slowly. "A gentleman kindly took me in..."
"Oh you mean Lucius?" He interjected, his eyes brightening with recognition.
"Lucius?" I echoed, my head tilted slightly.
"Yeah, Duke Lucius. He's the master of this house," he explained matter-of-factly. "Took me in too when I was just four, and now I'm eight."
"Duke Lucius..." I murmured, my mind whirling with newfound information. "He seemed so young."
"He is," Louis confirmed, leaning back against the window sill. "He's been like a brother to me since then. He's kind, even if he does have his secrets."
"Secrets?" I echoed, intrigued.
"Yeah, secrets," he replied simply as he shrugged. "But honestly, I don't know much about them. Lucius keeps to himself a lot."
"I see, so why were you taken in by him?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
Louis hesitated briefly, his gaze dropped to the floor before meeting mine again.
"My parents... they sold me to slave traders," he said, bitterness evident in his voice.
"What?" I exclaimed in disbelief, my brows furrowing.
"It's true. Lucius bought my freedom and took me in."
"..."
"By the way, Elise," Louis began, breaking the weighty silence, "how old are you?"
Caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic, I hesitated before replying, "seven."
"We're almost the same age then," Louis remarked, his tone gentle. "So, Elise, what was your village like before the attack? Did you have many friends there?"
"Not... really," I admitted, my voice trailing off. "My mother was always adamant about keeping me safe that I didn't get a chance to meet the other villagers."
Louis nodded in understanding. "I don't have any friends here either," he confessed quietly. "Well, there aren't any other children around."
"No other children?" I echoed.
Louis shook his head, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"It's just me and a few other servants. But none of them are my age."
"What about Duke Lucius's own family?" I inquired.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "I've never seen his family, but that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't have one."
Duke Lucius's a duke, this likely means that his parents have passed away, leaving him to inherit the title and responsibilities of the estate. Was it out of kindness, that he took us in?
"Alright, Elise, I've got to run. I've got class," he said, his tone casual and friendly.
"Bye, Louis," I responded, giving a small wave.
With a wave back, he headed out of the room the same way he came in, leaving me to reflect on our conversation.
"Friends..." I sighed.
My mother's overprotectiveness had kept me sheltered.
"Darling, the world outside is a dangerous place. There are evil people out there who can harm us," my mother's words echoed in my mind. "That is why I keep you here inside, where I can always see you."
Despite her protective nature, she had always shared stories about the outside world and the magic within it.
Mother was a sorcerer, but were the others in the village as well? If our village truly housed sorcerers, we wouldn't have fallen so easily to the attackers.
The thought nagged at me, stirring doubts about the strength of our defences.
Were the attackers just that powerful? Could they have been magos themselves?
"Magos," I murmured, recalling the name given to magic wielders.
But why would they turn against their kind? What could they stand to gain, and at what cost?
Could it be that the village was targeted for a different reason altogether? Is there a valuable resource hidden within our village? Something they coveted..
As I tried to make sense of the inexplicable attack on my village, my thoughts turned to Duke Lucius.
Does the Duke know something about the attack? I was the sole survivor, yet he knew about the motive behind it..
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