" Milady, can I get a leave on 25th of this month? My cousin died so I need to attend her funeral. ", Liliac, Sarang's handmaiden asked her while combing her hair.
" Yes you can, but how old was she? ", said Sarang while holding her silver mirror.
" She was just nineteen. Actually - " , she made a quick glance around the room to make sure that no one was present there and continued, " She was a maid in Count Haebar's mansion. That Count's son raped her a month ago. She tried to make a stand for herself and report him, but was eventually suppressed. She could no more bear the pain of humiliation and chose to end her life." , she took a sigh.
The mirror fell from Sarang's hand.
"Milady, Milady. ", Liliac shouted as she shaked her but no response was found.
Her face became pale as if she saw a ghost.
'What have I done? Only if I did not forget the faces, only if I made a move... She would be still be alive. Did I just kill her with my own hands? '
Sarang, the only child of Baron Cristopher de Grace was a water mage who just turned eighteen. She was a beauty with gunmetal silver hair and hazel green eyes. Very few people from nobility were aware of her appearance as she rarely attended any balls and banquets. She was a homebody.
From childhood, Sarang used to get dreams. Dreams where there were spoilers of her favorite novel or a dish the chef would make the next day. Though it happened handful amount of times, she just passed it by tagging it as " A cause of overthinking".
Exactly one month ago Sarang had a dream where she saw a man dragging a lady into his room. By the looks of the infrastructure it looked like a room of a nobleman. By the time she woke up she forgot the faces, it was like a faint memory lingering in her brain.
From that day onwards she started finding the dead lady whispering in her ears. " You killed me. You are a criminal. " That incident started eating her soul from within.
' I can not live like this anymore. I must do something. '
" Liliac, bring me a pen and a paper. I am going to attend the ball of Countess Rosela de Augustus. "
Never in her dreams she would have imagined, that this step would whirl her whole world.
To be continued ~