𝐓.𝐇.𝐄

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

Dreaming with my eyes open has become a lifestyle when I realized I couldn't change my reality; however, having visions were not part of it. I don't know if it was because of the shinning sun that hit my eyes, or if someone was really standing on the edge of the Palace.

On the sixth floor.

Throughout the long and agonizing hours, my mind couldn't stop thinking about that figure, and not knowing if it was real or part of my imagination, eats me alive. As if it wasn't enough, Anne has decided to throw more work at me, so I had to drag my skinny and tortured body to the fountains and clean all of them.

The knot in my stomach grows and it starts to make noises, joining the birds' melodies. I keep rubbing the sponge under the fountain, ignoring its requests of food, but the more I try, the more it becomes unbearable.

"Avelyn, come! Jonathan Fimmel has arrived." Lucy's voice wakes me up from my thoughts.

Immediately, I clean myself by rubbing my hands on the dirty apron, before heading to the entrance. My arrival captures everyone's attention, and from their expressions, I suspect they would prefer my absence. Mr. Rockchild and Mrs. Rockchild's expressions are a mix of disapproval and shame, as if I was so disgusting that even a dog wouldn't look at me. Obviously, Miss Ariana couldn't resist commenting, "do you come from some pigsty place?"

I don't show any kind of reaction to her sarcastic question. I just stand with my head up, staring at them passively. I know perfectly well my current aspect is the main problem, but I don't care. I feel glad that they see what I — what we — look like 24/7 and how it affects our physical appearance.

A soft and masculine voice breaks the tension, "nice to meet you, I'm Jonathan Fimmel." My eyes search among the people present in the hall, when a tall and slender male figure shows up from the right corner. Involuntary, I step back in order to get a better view of him, and my eyes start to scan his body. He looks quite young, extremely agreeable and his combed, lightly gelled blonde hair makes him look more perfect, and to crown the whole, is his brightly and perfectly lined smile.

I bow my head, "Avelyn Lothbrok, welcome to the Rockchild Palace Mr. Fimmel." I say, shyly. I feel everyone's eyes on me, seeming as if they were consuming me.

He gets closer, with that smile still painted on his lips, "please, just call me Jonathan." He affirms, calmly. Everyone seems petrified by his courteousness, and Miss Ariana's shocked reaction confirms Karma's existence. Suddenly, Mr. Rockchild's strong cough gets us back to reality and Jonathan's smile fades away as soon as his blue eyes meet his.

"Mr. Fimmel, it's time you go meet..." He stops, looking at her wife, as if he needs help.

"He's been waiting for you. Come, I'll guide you." I've never seen Mr. Rockchild lack words, and in his devilish but now bright eyes, I perceive a hint of fear, as if he was afraid of revealing something too private in front of everyone. To us, maids. I look at the girls, hoping to get a reaction from them, but all I get are sleepy eyes, and a passive look from Anne.

How can they be so blind?

Mrs. Rockchild and Jonathan disappear from our sight, and a moment later everyone leaves except Claire, Lucy, Anne and I. We stand still, looking at nothing, until Lucy breaks the silence. "He literally fell for you, Ave," She exclaims, winking at me and hitting her hip against mine.

"Oh, please. Stop it, Lucy." I mumble, rolling my eyes.

"Kiss me, dear Avelyn. I want your roses, soft and pleasant lips on mine, so that-" Claire interrupts her nonsense declaration pushing her, "Stop, Lucy. You are so brainless sometimes."

"Well said. Sometimes, unlike you." At Lucy's affirmation, Claire takes a candle from the table and throws it towards Lucy, but she moves faster, expecting that action from her.

"Girls, stop playing like two-year-old kids, and come help me prepare the dinner."

*

It's eight o'clock in the evening, and hopefully the dinner is all ready and placed on the table and plates. Cooking has never been my passion, and being obliged to do it makes me hate it even more than I already do. Obviously cooking, certainly not eating.

We've been stuck in the kitchen for three hours, preparing mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes, noodles in green sauce and some red meat. Actually, the stressful part isn't cooking, but placing the food artistically on the plates, as if they had to admire it, instead of eating it.

While the other girls stand wordlessly at the salon serving the family, Anne assigned me to wash the dirty pots we used. As I wash and hum a casual melody, a familiar voice catches my attention.

"Hey, Avelyn." I turn around and see Jonathan with the same blue jeans and white t-shirt he wore at his arrival.

"Oh, hi." I shyly murmur, not expecting to see him here.

"Sorry I've interrupted your work. I just wanted to ask if I could take some fruit. I've already finished mine, and I'm kind of addicted to it." He laughs, timidly.

"Sure, they are in the fridge, on the left corner. Take whatever you want. The supplier will furnish some food tonight." I explain.

"Thank you," he says, heading towards the fridge like a little hungry kid.

"You know, I'm sorry for this afternoon. It wasn't kind of Miss Rockchild to say that." He says, trying to comfort me.

"After a whole year here, I've gotten used to it."

"Well, she was rude anyway. You don't deserve to be treated that way. No one does." His words take me off guard. I pause my movements, absorbing his words slowly and letting them comfort my open wounded.

"I appreciate your words, Jonathan. I can't figure out why such a kindhearted person like you would be in a place like this." I demand, continuing my work.

"I could ask the same question." A little sniff leaves my pale, dry lips.

"Well, I'd love to converse with you, but there's a tan of work waiting for me." He sighs, heading to the exit door with five apples and a banana on his hands.

"Wait," I, suddenly feel the urge to ask him the question that has been tormenting me constantly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, anything." I take a deep and long breath, before opening my mouth.

"Who are you working for?"