Chereads / A Saga I Don't Want To Be In / Chapter 9 - Ch. VIII: the rodless man

Chapter 9 - Ch. VIII: the rodless man

Song Playing: Fearless by Le Sserafim

Naira woke up in her bed back in her room which was still dark. She couldn't remember when she went from the rich people's living room to her room or how she managed to close the curtain. She could remember distinctly that the curtain was quite heavy yesterday when she attempted to open it fully to see where she was. But her memory wasn't that bad. She remembered she had definitely opened it a halfway.

She slowly sat up with the pillow she was hugging. Maybe she had been so tired that she didn't remember that she managed to walk up and miraculously find her room. And somehow closed the curtain.

Her stomach grumbled interrupting her sludgy thoughts. She sighed as she realized she never had a proper meal, minus the mini cookies and few sips of tea from yesterday.

Naira looked blankly around the room. It was a bit dark for her to make anything out. She got slowly so as not to knock anything (or worse, trip over anything) so she could try her hand at opening the curtain (again). Getting the curtain halfway open, the light flooded the room. Upon turning to walk back into bed still sore from yesterday's cardio, she noticed that an envelope was under the lamp.

Her mouth was still open in a mid yawn. She stifled it quickly. Letting go of the pillow in her other arm, she lifted the lamp to take the envelope out. The lamp was an electric lamp for some reason. The cord snaked behind the bedside table plugged into a power socket near the floor.

She duly questioned if the writer of this book had even done their research on the 1850s.

She focused her attention back and carefully pried the wax seal. Three pages were inside of it. On the first page, in big capital letters, it was written:

"MAP OF THE HOUSE."

Naira chuckled a little at the little period after the words were written. Maybe this was another type of magic. Naira realized that she was saying maybe in her head a lot. Unfolding the paper, a layout of the ground floor was drawn on it. There were 3 more papers and each had a layout of the other two floors and one of the basement

The basement was mainly full of laundry rooms, a kitchen, pantry, Head Butler's office and servants' quarters.

The ground floor had the living room where Naira fell asleep, a music room adjoining the living room, dining room, a place to entertain guests near the dining room, a coat room, one big hall leading from the front door to the stairs and a ballroom.

The next page was titled "SECOND FLOOR." and held scattered storerooms and one big space titled the attic.

The last page which was labeled "first floor" had some empty rooms (probably for the rest of an actual duke's family), a library which could be in competition with the living room to see who's bigger, guest rooms, a playroom, a smaller version of a living room (for a mansion at least) and some small storerooms scattered between guests rooms, probably to hold stuff for the various things needed for any guests if there were any. Naira's room was on the 1st floor which was labeled with "YOU ARE HERE." and lastly the room that caught her attention the most:

"MY ROOM."

The blood drained from Naira's face. She blinked, questioning if she had somehow lost her reading abilities

The "MY ROOM." was the same room that was facing her room. Naira's imagination kicked in high gear which mainly included every worst case scenario starting with being taken advantage of and ending with brutally beaten to death.

In different formats of course, because there are only so many ways one can be brutally beaten to death.

She looked at her door that led to the hall. She threw the sheets covering her and checked herself for signs of tampering.

She was still in yesterday's clothes. The only difference she could find was that was not wearing her shoes and the jewelry she put on yesterday was gone. She looked around the room and saw the shoes were put neatly into a corner near the vanity. Her jewelry was also there tucked into a little bowl that held hair clips.

She touched her hair and realized that her hair was open too. She had put her hair into a bun. When she had randomly opened a drawer, she had found a little flower ornament that she decided would look good in her bun. It was now glittering at her from the little bowl with the rest of her jewelry.

She pulled the neck of her gown to see inside to see if anything else was missing. Nothing was.

A very thorough inspection later which involved locking the door and checking every inch of her body in the mirror, she had to finally accept that she was not tampered with in any way.

That still didn't ease her mind.

She walked to the door. But quickly took a U-turn back to her bed. She clutched the wooden pole of her bed's canvas and a little whiny noise escaped her lips.

She walked back to the door and stood in front of it. She stared at the doorknob.

And she stared.

Stared a bit more.

Even more staring.

It was a staring contest between her and the doorknob.

Blinking fast, she unlocked the door at lightning speed. Then instantly regretted it and locked it again.

Another staring contest started.

This happened quite a few times. Unlocking and locking the door and then lots of staring at the doorknob like it'll magically decide what to do for her.

After the 2000th time of this, puffing her cheeks at her stupidity, she unlocked the door finally and opened it a crack wide enough for her head to look out in the hall.

"So, have you learned to use a lock or is this something else?"

The door banged shut again and locked for the 2001th time. She threw herself in bed and hid under the blanket.

The man outside her door looked at the 2001 times locked door. He chuckled deeply at her reaction as he turned and went into his room, closing the door softly behind him.

~

Naira eventually did venture out when she was certain that that man was not to be found. Not found at least outside her door. Hunger can do things to a person. She slowly opened the door and tiptoed out holding a fire grate iron rod over her head. She walked like she was in a poorly directed spy movie just to get to the stairs.

She managed to escape to the kitchen and slammed the door shut. Her body fully facing the door, she did not notice the man sitting behind her looking at her with interest as his toast was paused halfway to his mouth.

Naira straightened as she thought she escaped the man upstairs. She turned around and shrieked while casually falling to the floor as she tripped backwards. Fumbling a bit, she got up from the floor and raised her iron rod above her head again.

"I have a rod and I'm not afraid to use it."

"I can see that." Naira duly noted the British accent.

"Who are you?"

"Definitely not the one with an iron rod."

Naira's eye twitched a bit. She couldn't tell if he was an enemy or not but she knew better than to trust random men that just conveniently live in the room across from her.

He had continued eating his toast and was still looking at her with interest. Curiosity filled his eyes instead of fear or anger which confused Naira.

"Aren't you scared?" Naira asked exasperatedly at him.

A mouth slightly full of toast, "of wha'?"

"I have an iron rod in my hands and I'm about to hit you! Why aren't you at least trying to calm me down like in the movies?" The man looked at her, blinking a few times. "Does it look like we're in a movie right now?" The deadpan in his voice wasn't missed but she chose to ignore it.

"I really will whack you. So- so don't think I wON'T!"

"I never underestimated you, don't worry about that. I just really really don't care."

"Fine then. I won't hit you." She said as if that was reason enough to lower an iron rod against a potential serial killer. Her grip was still strong on it even though her arms were no longer above her head.

She took a deep breath, "Who are you?"

She saw him open his mouth and said in a haste, "And no jokes! Like um… your name. And basic info. Preferably."

He looked at her with an expression she couldn't understand. He nodded a bit, "My name is Amias. Last name Chantel. I'm about 26. Doing my masters. I have a fancy accounting degree. I study in NYU. Rich family. British which you probably already guessed."

She blinked a few times, "Ah-my-us Chahn-tell?"

"Yes that is my name, thank you for repeating it. Now your turn, love."

Naira closed one eye for a second and looked up as she thought, "I'm Naira Moon. I'm like 23. I'm studying at the University of Houston and doing a major in Angel Management. Normal family. Or like middle class, whichever you wanna call it."

"Na-e-ra Moon. Fascinating." He mused.

"Thanks." She frowned a little. "I think."

Amias clapped his hands, "So now that we know each. Let's talk about marriage."

Naira froze with her arms folded. "Wh-what-"