Rose woke up from the pattering of rain and the loud whistling of the wind against her windows. Groaning, she turned in her bed, planning to go back to sleep. However, the window suddenly opened and the cold, biting wind went straight inside the room and made her body shiver from the cold.
Grabbing the thin sheets to cover her body from the cold wind, Rose went closer to the window in order to close it. As she stood by the window and struggled to keep the strong wind from pushing the window open, she saw a glimpse of the golden lights on the front of the manor. Where could that light come from?
She soon realized that it was coming from the front door which she recalled she locked before going ahead to sleep.
What was going on? Did an intruder come inside the manor? She pondered worriedly. Have they come here to rob her? But this abandoned manor had nothing other than some small things she got from the main manor of the ducal house.
Other than that, what could they get from coming here?
It couldn't be her, right? At the thought of it, Rose trembled in fear and her fists curled tightly around the sheets she was still holding around her body.
The fear of some unknown people coming for her jabbed at her like thousands of needles all over her body.
Looking around her, Rose looked for something she could grab on and treat as a weapon. She saw the candle holder on the bedside table next to her bed and tightly grabbed it with her other hand.
She might be alone and easy to kill, but she didn't want to go down without a fight.
But then, again, did someone really enter her house? What if she was wrong? After all, her window was pushed open by the storm and it wouldn't be strange if the door also met a similar fate as her window.
Besides, if someone was really here, wouldn't they have already reached her room before she woke up? Why were they still not making their way towards her? Rose had her questions that she wanted to be answered, but this wasn't the time for that.
Better be sure than sorry. Rose told herself.
Facing the door of her room, Rose cautiously stared at it, ready to strike whoever entered her room with the candle holder. It might not be as sharp as a knife nor a sword, however, it was heavier and it would surely hurt anyone who got hit by it.
Time passed by and the storm outside started to calm down to a drizzle. It was still nighttime and the sun was still far from rising up.
Rose wondered if she was too paranoid. Who would dare come to her little manor, anyway? Suddenly, sadness tingled in her heart. When she thought that someone had come, a slight anticipation came up to her. Of course, there was also fear that was mixed in it, but she still couldn't erase the fact that she was looking forward to see people once again.
She had been alone in this manor for sixteen years already and not once had she seen a human being other than herself.
Sighing and banishing away these thoughts, Rose glanced at the door a few seconds longer before she decided to open them. If there was anyone who came to her manor even after knowing who lived her, she would gladly meet them before she died in their hands.
At least, before she died, she could see someone else other than herself.
Rose expected someone standing in wait outside her door, but upon looking, she saw nothing but darkness. She slowly walked forward, careful not to make a sound like a cat sneaking in to steal food in the kitchen.
When she reached the stairs, Rose could see that the candle she set downstairs. It was still burning despite the strong wind that was intruding inside the house.
Making her way downstairs, Rose forgot all her fears and went to check if something of her possession was stolen.
She first went to close the door, checked the dark living room that was almost never received any guests for more than a decade, and when it was the kitchen's turn to be checked, Rose noticed something that she missed earlier when she was checking.
There was some marks on the cobblestone floor.
It was blood.
Rose didn't want to see where it came from and whose blood it was, but her feet thought otherwise as it brought her to the kitchen.
Since there was no need for her to cook at night, Rose left the candles in the kitchen unlit. Only the light rays coming from the moon enabled her to see what was inside the kitchen.
However, she could clearly make out the figure sitting in the farthest corner and had his back against the wall.
It was a man.
And he was bleeding.