Stupid Birds

Chapter 3

"Here we are, miss."

          "Uh... Thanks."

          "Is something not to your liking?"

          "No! It's all very nice... I just didn't expect to see my things here."

          "The Young Master knew you left behind your belongings when you came here, since you're on vacation. He thought you'd like them in your new living quarters."

          "So, that's what you call him?"

          "Pardon me?"

          "'Young Master,' that's his nickname or something?"

          "Oh." For the first time since meeting him, Rosalyn saw a genuine smile on the young man's face, however subtle. "Yes, his 'nickname.' We're told to call him that from Day 1. If you don't, there are penalties."

          "Like what?"

          Once again, he diverted eye contact. Shoot. I spoke too much. "Nevermind. Sorry."

          "I gather everything is to your liking?"

          "Uh, yes... Thank you."

          He bows and turns to leave. Then, he stops mid-step, as if remembering something. He turns back toward her with rosy cheeks. "I don't wish to offend you, but this is protocol." He clears his throats loudly. "If you desire company for the night, I-" His throat hitches. "I can accommodate your-"

          Rosalyn put her hands up. "No, no, you don't have to do this, Bernard-"

"It's protocol, ma'am. I'm sorry, but I had too."

"Get some sleep, Bernard. Thank you for... this."

Bernard rushes out and softly closes the door behind him. Rosalyn trudged to her new bed and fell onto the cloud-like mattress. That was awkward. Too awkward. After thinking about the last interchange she had, her mind wandered back to the stress-inducing meeting she had with The Doflamingo. A headache started to form, though, so she decided to just pass out until morning. If she woke up and found herself still in her hotel room, then this was all just a nightmare. If not, then she'd deal with it as best as she could.

          "Ms. Falkes... Ms. Falkes, dinner will be served in an hour."

"What?" Rosalyn woke up to someone calling her by her last name and mentioning dinner. She opened her eyes and groaned, less than happy that someone woke her up before she was ready. Did he say dinner? What happened to breakfast? "It's not morning?"

"No, Ms. Falkes. You've only been asleep for a few hours."

Rosalyn was now a little more collected. She opened her eyes wide and attempted to rise herself from the plush bed sheets surrounding her like a cocoon. By now her groggy brain had registered that she really was in a predicament. With a less than happy look on her face, she got out of her bed and surveyed the area. Bernard was standing at her side, ready to put a pair of slippers on her feet. He also had a robe hung over his left arm. Behind him was a large dresser with a scarlet dress on a hanger.

"I thought we were having dinner."