The windows of the castle were always dirty. The maids never cleaned them. Reya took notice of this all her life but didn't mind. Her family became fallen nobles after her mother had stopped socializing. Instead, she shuts herself away in her room, only getting up to criticize Reya. Her father was a pitiful man, often begging her to get married or else he would arrange a marriage himself. She was only 15. What was the point? Reya could recall her last engagement a year ago. After her debutante, a chubby boy proposed marriage, and to that she hesitantly accepted. She did not like him as he only ever talked about himself. He was just another person that sucked the energy out of her as she spent time with them. Upset. She always felt upset with him.
He bothered her, threw away her work, and demanded that she do "feminine" things. When she finally called off the engagement, he played dumb to it, blaming her as the sole root of the problem.
Today was strange, however. The maids packed their things as men bowed at her door, handing her flowers.
Shame that he died. One of them uttered to another. His daughter will not take possessions unless she is married.
"I don't want to go through that again," Reya whispered. "Never again." When she was forced to kiss that boy, she felt something inside of her die. Peace.
She never felt that sense of security again. Dirty. She felt dirty. Vulnerable, like someone had taken something from her.
Her father and mother had died in a carriage accident a few miles from her home that day, and she had to be dressed properly so that the Duke could collect her.
Like an object, some type of parcel or present.
When he came, it rained hard. His figure stood outside the door, with a half-smile on his face. He held out his hand, asking that she place her hand on his.
She held his hands, cold and damp from the rainfall.
"Don't be tense." He said to her. "I don't plan to ever acknowledge you."
Across from each other, they sat in silence.
When the carriage stopped, He opened the door for her and let her off on her own.
"I doubt that you've ever had a maid right?" He'd ask, looking at her with an icy stare. Reya remembered that he was a month older than her. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He was quite tall, resting his fingers against his sword hilt.
Reya didn't respond.
"Say something." He said.
"I'll give you anything as long as you leave me alone. "
She didn't respond once more.
The two walked into the estate, the staff bowing to them. Reya noticed how young they were. A whole mansion run by people her age and younger was oddly amusing.
They smiled at her hopefully, so she smiled back. He noticed her smile and frowned at her shortly after and left her to a butler with a kind smile.
"Miss, let's go to your room. I'll show you around on the way." He called.
The halls were massive, floors shining, perfectly polished. The windows were crystal clear. Pristine perhaps. A word she could never use to describe her own home.
The butler looked a year younger than her, talking animatedly about the architecture and art.
"You know," he began, "The Master is a good man. He'll treat you well. I hope that you cherish him as much as we do."
Cherish?
She nodded.
He never planned to acknowledge me.
When I'm of age, he'll throw me away.
It's all right. I'm counting on it.
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