02 - odd

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Meet Uncle Jonathan. 

Meet Alder & Golda Benson. 




"Listen," Rose grabbed her by her shoulders. Leslie might be able to help her find a way to leave this place. But for now, she had to follow the lead. Better play safe. She was still unaware of what was to come or what to expect. She had to do at least something.

"I might need your help tonight." Rose smiled half-heartedly. She knew this girl thought she was delusional, but there was no turning back. For now, it seemed. "I-" How should she explain? "I feel like I don't remember certain things."

"I can see that, my Lady." Leslie was clearly annoyed.

"And certain people." Rose added.

"I noticed." Rose stared at her, her eye seemingly twitching. Her sudden nonchalant attitude threw her off.

"Are you playing smart with me?" No, I need to calm down. As much as Rose was in a problematic situation, so was Leslie. Snapping at her wouldn't help any of them further.

"I would never dare, my Lady." The black-haired woman sighed, looking up at Rose, still unable to belief what was happening. The woman in front of her was not Esmé, she knew that. But whoever this woman was, she was ready to help until she found out what had happened.

"My Lady, you should get dressed first. The Colonel will be here in half an hour."

Rose nodded with a distressed expression. She wasn't ready to face the Colonel or any other person for that matter - anyone who thought, she was a Lady. She sighed, grabbing the dress as Leslie reached out to take it back at the same time.

"What is it now?" Rose frowned, trying to pull the dress out of Leslie's hold.

"My Lady, you need to undress first."

Rose felt heat rise to her cheeks. She had always been one to get easily embarrassed but still, this girl was skipping whole levels of intimacy. Her mouth felt dry. There had never been one person to tell her to undress other than her mother. 

"W-why?" Rose lifted her arms, hugging her torso in a protective manner.

"Because I'm going to help you get into the dress." Leslie raised her eyebrows. She talked as if that was the most obvious thing to do.

"I'm not a little kid." Rose argued, "I can get dressed myself!"

"But my Lady," Leslie sighed, her head falling to the front. "It's what I always do. You like when I help you get dressed."

Rose was shocked. Her eyes felt as if they'd fall out of her skull any second. Her lips parted, staring at Leslie who seemed to be amused by her reaction, fighting a smirk.

"No," Rose grabbed the cloth, pointing with her other hand to the door. "You wait outside."

The maid had never seen her Lady being shy about her outer appearance. The opposite in fact. Esmé had been confident with her looks, sometimes even being playful with men. She had them lined up for her.

But all Leslie could do was to nod, leaving Rose alone with her interior conflicts and closing the door shut behind her.

The modern young girl plumped onto the bed again, huffing deeply, hiding her face behind her hands. She fought the urge to cry. This felt overwhelming. She felt trapped, not knowing how to act or how to talk even. Wiping away the few tears that had escaped her eyes, she took a deep, long breath. She stared at the chiffon dress to her side, not being able to estimate what was waiting for her outside this room.

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