Not a moment after I wrote the last word of my first entry, did something quite vexing occur.
Something I was not at all prepared for.
As I returned this diary I am writing in, to its rightful place on the library shelf and placed the quill and inkwell where I had found them, my senses became overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of food. I began salivating, daydreaming of the long white loaves of bread and that beautiful sting of cheese, that I used to enjoy daily with Papa and my sisters.
I expect I had a case of the vapours and was hallucinating, due to the fact that I hadn't eaten in... well... too long.
Why my brain had decided to play such a cruel trick on me, I did not know. I need all the company I can get in here and my own mind had decided to abandon all logic and reason, departing from reality completely and for what? A piece of bread?
I opened the door to the bedroom, quietly, as I do. And there it was, at the foot of my bed. Not blankets. Not a chair.
A plate of food.
A plate of food, on a tray, sitting on a table at the bottom of the bed.
It contained at least three different types of bread, long white scrolls, seeded buns, grains with flour on top. Some of the freshest fruit I've ever seen, beautiful berries and my favourite, French cheese.
Along with the food, on the tray, was a pitcher of water, a teapot and a teacup.
My first thought was, "From whence did this come?" Momentarily overjoyed by the appearance of such beautiful food, it delayed the formation of my second thought - "Why?"
I have a confession to make... I ate some bread. Initially, I hated myself a little for doing it, feeling so conflicted over what it meant to take the charity of such a horrid person. But after I finished half a stick, I was truly free of any regrets.
Why give me food? Again, attempting to make me feel comfortable? Like a breakfast in bed. Or dinner perhaps? I wasn't quite sure of the time, the curtains have blocked out the windows and I don't feel comfortable moving them. My only light is from the lanterns, that never seem to go out, which is strange. It doesn't make sense... unless the food is poisoned... Why would someone take their time to leave me - their veritable prisoner - something that will make me feel better?
Oh, I just had another thought. Someone brought the tray of food, but - I heard nothing. No footsteps, no door creaking. Nothing. How is that possible?
I was only one room away, writing, like I am now. No noise louder than a quill scratching on parchment. Surely the flap of a birdling's wing would be louder.
Admittedly, I also ate a wedge of cheese. I did not want the food to go rotten in the room and attract any number rodents. Besides, one of the cheeses was cut from a wheel of camembert - I could smell it. I don't know of anyone else, other than myself, who can tell the difference between camembert and double brie from just smell alone.
That was one of the odd things Pierre loved that about me. I mean, loves about me.
Oh my days, I've just had the most frightening of thoughts. I can't believe this didn't occur to me sooner.
My abductor can enter the bedroom as he pleases. Anytime of his choosing.
My last bastion of safety, that bedroom, has now been violated. I feel a renewed sense of fear. I allowed myself to believe this was my personal space inside this wolf-in-sheep's-clothing of a fortress. I suppose that was a silly thought, considering I am a prisoner in captivity.
There is a chest next to the commode. I'm going to move that in front of the door that leads to the hallway and I shall wedge that chair under the handle of door to the study. I should be able to hear someone coming then. Allow myself some sleep.
I hope I can move the chest, it looks rather heavy. Pierre would do the heavy lifting around the house for us, ever the gentleman. I miss him dearly.
I left the tray outside the hallway door. I kept the pitcher of water and the teacup in my room, though. I snuck a peek down the hall when I placed the tray on the floor and I have to say, the hallway was hauntingly beautiful. Like the kind of beauty you read about in books. It makes me sad how a place so beautiful can be tainted by a situation so nightmarish.
I find it hard to believe this is what life had in store for me. To have me rot away inside such a beautiful place under such horrific circumstances. Cut off from my loved ones. Will I ever get to see them again?
At least I won't die hungry.
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