I didn't know how long I cried. But gradually my tears stopped and I wiped my eyes, slowly getting to my feet. I heard Caio's footsteps approaching from behind but I didn't turn towards him. I knew I looked like a mess, with my tear-streaked face and my dress stained with dirt. He reached my side, but thankfully he didn't say anything. Instead, he just put his jacket around me.
It was the first act of kindness I had received when I had found myself in this strange, foreign place. The same gesture he did when he had rescued me. And it was so comfortingly familiar that I felt the tears start again. I closed my eyes as the tears flowed, and I leaned against his chest. Still without saying anything, Caio put his arms around me and patted me soothingly on my back, and we stayed like that until I felt steady enough to stand on my own again.
Stepping back a little, I mouthed my appreciation to him. 'Thank you.' I didn't have enough energy to get my slate and have a proper conversation just yet. That would have to suffice in the meantime.
Caio smiled in answer, using both of his hands to wipe my tears. Suddenly, the loud growling of my stomach broke the silence. I gasped in embarrassment and held my stomach, as if that would stop the sound. "Would you like to have dinner?" Caio asked. I looked around to see that it was getting dark already, and I realized that I only had one meal that day. I nodded, feeling my cheeks flame in embarrassment even more, and I followed him back to his horse.
*****
The girl finally stopped crying. Or rather, Alessandro couldn't hear her anymore. That was the first time he had heard her that long – about 10 minutes or so – and his expression darkened when he thought of the infinite number of possible reasons why she was so sad. Of course he wanted to hear her more. "But not like that," he said.
He called for the meeting to resume, his attention only half on it. Every so often his mind played back the sound of the girl's sobs, and he frowned. He wanted to know why she was crying. He wanted to know how he could help her. He wanted to know her.
Caio and I arrived in town and I marveled at the brightly lit street lamps hanging on posts and at the line of shops on both sides of the cobblestone road. People were walking about everywhere – couples holding hands, parents with their young children in tow, and old people flocked in groups. Caio stopped by the fountain in the middle of the town square and got off the horse. "What would you like to eat?" he asked when he had helped me to my feet.
The question got me excited. There were so many things I wanted to eat, so many dishes I'd been missing – where did I even begin to answer that? Of course I'd kill for some Korean food. But there was also Japanese, Chinese, Thai. My list could go on and on. 'Can we have pasta?' I finally decided. I doubted I could get Asian cuisine. At least, I hadn't heard of anything similar served in the palace in the time since I started working there. But maybe, just maybe, there was pasta.
"Of course, we can," Caio replied, leading the way.
When I saw the restaurant, however, I grabbed him by the arm and hastily scribbled on my slate. 'Are you sure it's all right for me to come in?' I asked hesitantly.
"Why wouldn't it be all right?" Caio said, turning to me and ignoring the waiter who had opened the door for us.
Even from outside I could hear soft music playing, and occasionally there was the tinkling of glasses. It was definitely a fancy looking restaurant, and aside from Caio's jacket still draped over me, I felt I was dressed so shabbily. 'I don't belong here,' I replied honestly. It was like that time several years ago when I had just gotten my first ever paycheck from my part-time job in a convenience store. I put on my best jeans and a new blouse I had gotten on 50 percent discount, and I booked a table at a nice Italian restaurant in Gangnam – only to find out that all the women were dressed to the nines, and the menu cost almost half of my minimum wage.
"You're with me," Caio said, putting his hand on my back and gently guiding me forward. "Don't worry about it."
As we walked into the restaurant, I could feel all eyes turn towards us. The only reason they were trying to be as discreet as possible – although that was miserably failing – was because of Caio. If it wasn't for him, I knew everyone would be staring at me blatantly – and perhaps condemning me to the stakes with their eyes.
As soon as we were seated, a waiter came to our table with the menus. "I'd like an order of potato soup," Caio said. When the waiter had left to see to it, Caio turned to me, "It's for you." At my questioning glance, he continued, "You need something light first when you're hungry, so you won't upset your stomach." I smiled at him, touched at his thoughtfulness. But then again, he had always looked out for me since we first met. It shouldn't come as a surprise by now, but it always did. After all, no other guy had ever shown that kind of genuine concern towards me, except my older brother. Not even Bong-su.
"What would you like to have?" Caio asked as he looked at the menu.
Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I turned to the menu as well. But everything sounded unfamiliar to me. 'I don't know,' I said, looking confused. 'But I'd like cream pasta, if they have it here.'
"They do," Caio confirmed. "And it's also very good."
I had cream pasta that reminded me a lot of carbonara, with rich white sauce generously served with slices of pork and mushrooms, and a smothering of cheese flakes of top. Caio had decided on tomato pasta with a hefty serving of seafood, and the dish looked quite like marinara. "How about dessert?" Caio invited after we had finished our meal.
I clapped my hands and grinned at him, and he laughed. I guessed I didn't need my writing slate to answer that question.
*****
The moonlight streamed from the open window, making the bed sheet gleam. I was back in my room again. After Caio had dropped me off at the entrance of the servants' quarters, I headed straight to my room. There were so many things that happened today that I needed time alone to properly process everything in my head. Goodness knew that I wouldn't have nearly as much opportunity to do so tomorrow – what with the long queue of chores to finish and the constant chatter of the other servants during mealtimes.
I took out the writing set that 19 had given me from my pocket and carefully placed them on the bedside table. Starting tomorrow, I was going to use the writing materials from Caio. 'I wonder what she will say,' I smiled widely. I was willing to bet that 19 would notice the new slate, and she would definitely comment on it.
I felt something else in my pocket, and I took out the bloody handkerchief. When I had first found it, I had brought it with me as I worked, intending to wash it along with my usual load of laundry. But after I had forgotten to do so in the first few days, I had decided to keep the stain as it was. I still carried the handkerchief with me almost everywhere, but I just let it be. There was something so comforting about the luxuriously soft fabric, and I found myself taking solace in it, especially on the occasions when I was too tired or upset over something – which happened quite often.
I ran my thumb over the course stain, and I thought back to the abandoned battlefield I had visited that afternoon. The blood reminded me of the war I had unwittingly witnessed, and I felt an affinity towards the owner of the handkerchief. Did he also lose important people in his life that night? That was a fairly safe assumption, but maybe it wasn't as bad as my situation, because I had lost everything. I sank to the floor at the foot of my bed and gave in to the urge to cry again, holding the handkerchief close to me.
"What's the matter with her?" A guy's voice. From out of nowhere I had suddenly heard a guy's voice, and it stopped my tears on their track. I briskly dabbed my face with the handkerchief and looked around the room, but I was alone. 'Who is that?' I asked, my heart jumping to my throat in fear.