The smell of petrichor greeted me. Under the dark ceiling, painted with white clouds and yellow stars, a sort of meteor at the far end corner.
'What an unfamiliar sight.'
She thought, slender arms as pale as snow reached out to touch the pale blue moon staring down at her.
But she couldn't. It was far too high.
Turning her head to the side she saw a glass window. Droplets of rain racing down on the said glass as her nose pick up a quite alluring, and mouth watering scent.
"And what an unfamiliar smell...."
It seemed like she's laying on a mattress. Thick blanket wrapping around her comfortingly. A wave of euphoria filled her senses. It was gone just as quickly as it came, leaving her empty and disheartened.
Deciding to inspect the queer place she was located in, she got up and stay seated, holding her head on her palm.
A lamp on her side on top of a bedside table, closet a few steps away from the bed she's currently in, a lowboy and a mirror.
A simple room with dark wool carpet. There was a small bookshelf on the left corner. The confused female gently put her feet down the cool carpet. Her seemingly fragile body sinking into the soft material, a chill running down her spine.
Lips quiver into frisson as she take the first step towards the mirror.
Shoulder length, dark brown hair and soft hazelnut eyes.
She's seen different eyes throughout her life. Some filled with malice. Others full of hatred and jealousy. So much that hers turned cold and lifeless in response.
But now she's looking at eyes that held curiosity, excitement, and fear.
HER eyes, to be exact.
Something that she once had was once again returned to her. And just like that it was flushed down the drain.
The strangers thin lips turned pale. Panic flashes before her eyes as her breathing become ragged.
"W-who are you?!"
A firm and demanding tone yet the slight quiver in her voice betrayed her eyes that shows rage.
It wasn't long before she felt her knees buckle and mind turning hazy.
Slowly succumbing into darkness, she thought she heard the all too familiar voice of someone she holds dear call out to her.
. . . .
"What are you saying Your Grace?"
"Don't play games with me! You've kidnapped me haven't you! "
"We didn't commit such insolent act Duchess Emelda. " She replied. Her demeanour calm and collected as she did so.
I was angered by that. My nostrils are basically flaring as I tighten my grip on the hairbrush. It was queer for my ceiling to be so high up when I first fluttered my eyes open. I didn't smell the pancakes my mom would usually left me as she ventures to the outside world and slave away for the entire day doing office work.
And it was definitely queer when I heard a knock on the door when I know I'm left alone.
"Who the fuck is Emelda? And why are you calling me that? " Annoyingly, I tossed the hairbrush aside and aggressively flop myself down on the comfortable mattress. So soft and fluffly that it feels like I'm floating on air.
"That is Your Grace's name. Emelda Jacinta Le Veroni. Daughter of Lord and Lady Lepainto. Wife of Duke Albert Veroni. "
The lady with auburn hair and ocean green eyes stated. Her face remaining as stoic as ever.
I find her alluring, to say the least. I haven't met anyone who holds such expression without even faltering because of my hostile behavior.
But who names their kid Emelda?
"Oh right. Probably the Lady and Lord Veronica. " I said out loud. Rolling my eyes as I do so.
"Your Grace, are you perhaps still half asleep? " The red haired beauty call out to me, snapping my line of thoughts further mocking the so called lady and lord.
"No. I'm just confuse and hungry. "
Shrugging, I let out a defeated sigh. The room looks extravagantly full of different ornaments and various jewelry laying on top of a dresser.
'This captor of mine must be rich. '
'And plus, he sent out a maid to greet me in the morning. Also calling me Emelda which is weird. '
"You will be dining with the Duke thirty minutes from now. I suggest we get ready. "
The Duke? Is that my captor?
"Speak of the devil. I guess I'll have to face him sooner or later anyway. " Sitting up, I stretched my limbs, a few 'pop' coming from here and there.
I feel strangely light headed today. Must be the cause of my anorexic episode. Yet again.
Starve, eat, throw up, starve, eat, throw up, repeat.
It became mundane and I've been doing it the past several months. My body finding no other means of surviving, resorted in using all the fats I had left.
But it seemed that I'm still huge.
A thin but healthy body. Is it too much to ask for?
Why is it that this maid is much prettier than I am?
Why? When all I wanted was someone who could show me an ounce of affection. Yet it seemed like the gods are purposely ignoring my desperate cries of help. Showering those ones with wealth and influence happiness. But left not a crumb for people who hopelessly desire for it.
WHY? -
"Your Grace? " A quiet voice spoke.
"Yes? What is it? " Came my inaudible reply. My voice stuck in my throat as I place my palm on it.
"You've been staring at the ground for quite some time now. Is something the matter? "
Tone laced with worry and uncertainty. Somehow, I felt the need to hear of it again.
"Pardon? "
"Are you alright, Your Grace? "
A smile unconsciously creeping its way up my face before beaming, "Yes. I'm alright."
"Then, I shall brush Your Grace's hair. "
She leads me to sit down in front of a mirror. My stomach growling each step I take.
'Embarrassing. '
"Are you hungry, Your Grace?"
"Looks like it. What's for break...-
Golden locks falling like waterfalls on her shoulders. Sharp and piercing icy blue eyes that's framed with thick and curly lashes. Eyebrows that seemed to be drawn by the gods themselves as it compliments the said eyes and lashes. Lips formed in a cupids bow and as red as the blood she's used to vomiting.
-...fast..?"