Ring.
Ring.
"Ugh." Aina grumbled, gently opening her eyelids.
Ring.
Ring.
The ringing that echoed in the room continued.
'What is... ?'
She squealed, burying her face in the cushion her head was resting on. The mattress was terribly comfortable, and the cold of the room didn't make her want to leave the warmth of her blanket anymore. She yawned, before stretching, cracking the bones in her shoulders and neck. She was still in her gray room, right where Elvan had left her.
'How long have I slept...?' she silently thought to herself.
She had no idea. All she was sure of was that she had had a dream, but it had escaped her the moment she emerged from her deep sleep. She didn't know what it was all about, but she had this kind of strange feeling of uneasiness when she woke up.
'It must have been a nightmare.'
She dreamed a lot these last days, but never remembered anything.
She looked down at the clock that hung just between the two windows that overlooked the backyard. It was rusty and looked almost as old as the mansion. Its silver hands always showed the same time: 03:12 am. The only way to know the exact time was to check the position of the sun and the pendulum of the old clocks which – surprisingly – still worked. This was also one of the oddities of this place.
A house as black as ashes, bathed in darkness and perpetually frozen in time. What could be a better subject of rumors for the nobles of the empire ? Clocks and watches of all kinds did not work in this place. They all ended up stopping when they reached the fateful hour and never started again.
Aina had never witnessed these happenings, but she had overheard the other servants discussing them a long time ago.
Ring.
Ring.
She jumped when she heard one of the bells, which hung on wires next to the door, start ringing. Small gold bells, surmounted by a number, supposed to represent the different rooms of the house where Aina could have been called. Elvan had assured her that he would take care of everything, but she thought he might be busy with something else, given the insistence of the person on the other end of the line. She was almost tempted not to answer, as instructed by the butler, but changed her mind. She couldn't afford to be idle. She was an employee of this prestigious house and had to do honor to this title, especially since she did not know what the masters would do if they learned that she was slacking.
'Bedroom 3 .'
She raised her eyebrows slightly at the sight of this, for the occupant of that part of the house was one of those who was particularly hard to spot other than at the Signavit's weekly family meals. He must have been ringing the doorbell for a few moments already, so she hurriedly got out of bed, to rearrange her appearance.
She stood in front of the large wall mirror, just across from the bed and frowned at her messy appearance. Messy black hair with raspberry highlights, skin as pale as a winter's day and two large light blue eyes, slightly transparent in the center, which reflected nothing but emptiness. Aina didn't think she was very pretty. She didn't think of herself as ungainly or deformed, but she didn't possess any particular trait that would make her remarkable in the eyes of others. She had a pale complexion, cold features and a look devoid of any emotion, like that of a porcelain doll. She was usually not very expressive, so most people had difficulty deciphering her thoughts and attitudes, but that was what made her a competent servant. She didn't mind other people's business, never gave her opinion, and never let her emotions show, except on rare occasions.
The recent events with Master Envie and Elvan were thus rare exceptions to this rule. It was also for this reason that the beginning of this day had been so unsettling for her. She could have thought that she had fallen ill during the night. That could have explained her tormented emotions of the day. Heaving a sigh, she smoothed her dress and her dark locks, as if to restore a little of her composure.
When she was satisfied with the result, she turned on her heels and walked to the door to turn the handle. As usual, the hallway was completely deserted and she didn't see a single soul on her way to the west wing of the mansion, just a few meters from master Envie's bedroom, where she had spent a disastrous morning. A large dark wooden door greeted her and she lingered for brief seconds on the chrysanthemum motifs that were delicately carved there.
She knocked, waited a few seconds before a voice rang out. Sweet and melodious.
"Come in."
She straightened up, turned the doorknob and entered room number three.
'Mistress Chagrin's Bedroom .'
She took two steps into a large room with a tapestry blue like the sea in the middle of the night. In front of the windows, which stretched across an entire wall, stood a tall woman, elegantly dressed in a black dress. The latter consisted of a ruffled petticoat, on which were embroidered a multitude of purple scabious. The pattern continued on the top of the corset, on which were tied two large midnight-colored waves, and up to the Dolman sleeves of the dress, which ran along the wrists of the lady. The lace trimmings of the collar of the dress were particularly delicate and went up to her slender and dignified chin. From the top of her back fell a long black tulle train, like that of a wedding dress.
"Mistress." she greeted her, bowing.
A sweet smell of incense emanated from the room, slightly woody. This must have come from the small wooden altar installed inside the library cupboard. Framed by melted quarter candles, and a jar of smoking red sticks, was a frame covered with a black sheet. The object gave the room a gloomy and almost morbid atmosphere. Aina had very rarely entered the bedroom of the "wife" – as everyone liked to call her – so she was still surprised to discover the dark and gloomy room in which this woman lived.
She spent her days almost like a Hermit, locked in a large room, camouflaged behind thick black curtains with only a small yellow baby bird imprisoned in a golden cage for company . Anyone who saw her said that something unhappy emanated from her, as if she carried the weight of the world on her frail shoulders. She was the wife of Rage Signavit, who had – it was said – taken her away from her family and her country after he fell madly in love with her. Despite everything, the couple did not seem quite "harmonious". The patriarch was a cold and distant man, who rarely had the opportunity to pay her the slightest attention. Thus, she spent most of her time alone, reading books or doing embroidery for her children.
Aina also noticed the book she held in her hand and whose pages she touched with her long and delicate fingers.
'Hamlet .'
She seemed particularly fond of the theater, given the large amount of stories with which her library was filled.
"Aina." she greeted her in return gently, before closing the pages of her book and placing it on the edge of the desk, where she had scattered some flowered stationery and several silver fountain pens.
She looked embarrassed by the mess, for she hastily gathered up the scraps of paper and slipped the pens into the small black earthen pot placed right next to the candlestick, under the pine shelf on which was placed a yellow clay vase. This object was certainly precious and must have been offered by the head of the family to his wife, given the little note which was slipped inside and which bore the family emblem. It represented a woman covered with a brown toga and whose long black hair fell in cascade on her shoulders . She seemed to be traveling in a winged chariot, a stone box under her right arm and a book titled "Metamorphoses" in her hand. The legend of this work was written on a small sign, stuck on the foot, but she could not manage to read the contents from where she was.
Not that it interested her more than that. Aina liked pretty things and was sensitive to art, but she had to admit that she didn't know much about it. She wasn't very knowledgeable, since she was only a servant and didn't allow herself the right to be curious about this sort of thing.
"I apologize for disturbing you in your work."
Mistress Chagrin was a gentle and delicate woman. Like an orchid, she was particularly sensitive to her surroundings and could feel bad at the slightest sudden change in her living environment. She was one of the only people in this mansion to address her that way.
Chagrin Signavit was the mistress of this place, but she almost always behaved towards servants and other family members as if she was inferior. Thus, she who, like Master Envie, should have had no respect for Aina, flatly apologized with an embarrassed look to a servant, as if the harm she claimed to have caused could earn her the slightest remonstrance.
"It's my job madam." she tried to reassure her as best she could, as the woman finally turned in her direction. "I'm sorry for being late."
Her mistress shook her hand, her golden-brown pupils arching through her mask in what seemed like a smile.
"Don't worry about it." she breathed, straightening up, her hands resting on her stomach as if to show her obedience. "I called you suddenly, when you must have been busy."
Aina nodded, sliding her eyes to Lady Chagrin's mask. It was different from the one Envie owned, though many of the details indicated that it was the creation of the same craftsman as her son's. This one too was white, but not cut in half. It represented a smiling face, but on which were drawn two drops.
One under each eye. Like tears of joy or sadness, she wasn't sure.
"Not at all, madam." she assured her. "I was done taking care with Master Envie."
Aina saw Lady Chagrin's shoulders twitch slightly at the name, but it was so imperceptible that she doubted she had even seen it. Her fingers gripped her dress, and she bent forward delicately, like a reed in the pouring rain.
"It must not have been easy for you." she noted with a sigh.
Aina didn't say a word in front of her mistress' obvious thoughtfulness. If it was difficult to deal with Master Envie because of his bad temper and his tantrums, it was not easier to interact with Lady Chagrin, whose attitude almost always puzzled her.
With the young master, the process was simple. She just had to remain silent and endure everything, whether it was his insults or his violence. With her mistress, on the other hand, she was never really sure which foot to dance on. She wasn't particularly used to kindness and gentleness, considering that Master Envie and the Patriarch were the family members she interacted with most often. So she had no idea what kind of response was expected in such a situation.
She thus almost always opted for silence, even a nod, which did not fail to put her mistress, or she believed so, in a certain embarrassment. She was, however, slightly more comfortable and less guarded with her than with the other family members, which made it much easier.
"I'm used to it, madam."
Her mistress didn't seem happy about it, given the slight frown that Aina detected from where she was.
"Why was he angry this time?" she asked, a hint of what sounded like spite in her voice.
The young woman hesitated briefly, unsure of what to answer to the wife, before changing her mind.
'I have not been ordered to keep this a secret.'
"He asked to see the Miss."
Almost immediately, a dark veil covered the clear and almost trembling eyes of her mistress. The latter clenched her fingers on her dress and turned her head towards the gray marble chest of drawers, on which was placed the photo of a young woman in a field of sunflowers, her face covered by a large straw hat.
She seemed to hesitate. "You refused his request, didn't you?"
Aina noted the menacing look that pierced deep in her irises at these words but was not surprised. If Madam was most of the time as gentle as a lamb, there were situations like these where the wild and cold side of her personality, usually well camouflaged deep inside her, came out into the open. For some reason that Aina found difficult to explain, this woman always seemed animated by a mysterious force, whenever the discussions concerned the miss and the other young masters and mistresses.
'Like a lioness with her kids.' She noted silently, not taking her gaze away from her woody irises.
She nodded without a word in response. Despite what one might have thought, madam was the second highest hierarchy in this place after the patriarch. Her orders therefore took precedence over those of other family members, whatever might happen. Aina thus owed her obedience, as long as the leader of the Signavit did not decide otherwise.
"Of course, Madam. According to your orders, I told the young master that Miss was ill."
The shoulders of the latter fell and a sigh escaped her lips, leading Aina to conclude that the wife was relieved by the news.
" ... Good." she breathed after a few seconds. " It's perfect."
As if all her energy had left her, she leaned against the wall, before practically dropping into one of the chairs in the bedroom.
[ If Envie asks to see her, tell her she's ill, do you understand me? ] she recalled being pressed by Lady Chagrin after she entered the manor.
Obviously, her mistress wanted to avoid at all costs the meeting of the miss with the eldest of the Signavit, although she didn't know for what reason.
She looked scared.
"I'm sorry you had to put up with his behavior because of my order.'
'Again, this unfounded consideration.'
"You don't have to apologize ma'am," she replied almost mechanically, devoid of any emotion.
The interested party readjusted her hair resembling golden threads and straightened up, her hands resting on her knees. Aina found herself admiring once again the beauty and elegance of this woman, who seemed to come out straight out of a painting. The look she cast outward made her look melancholy and almost vulnerable, which shook something inside the young maid. She, who usually felt nothing, was surprised to feel somewhat disarmed, faced with the attitude of this seemingly simple and yet enigmatic woman.
She had trouble understanding what drove the wife to these choices ... Her goal.
"Have you seen my husband lately?"
Lady Chagrin's words brought Aina back to reality, though she still noticed the hint of distrust that pierced her voice, the same one she expressed when talking about the young master Envie.
The young woman nodded.
"I'm sorry ma'am." she apologized. "I didn't see the duke."
Madame Chagrin narrowed her eyes, an indescribable expression dancing in the back of her eyes. Aina couldn't say what this news provoked in her mistress.
She saw her get up and walk to a large vase in which were arranged eleven red roses , surrounded by a ribbon of the same hue. The wife admired them, inhaling their scent in silence.
Master Signavit had offered them to her at their last meeting, as a pledge of his affection for her and his consideration. Rage Signavit's attitude, however, could not be more disconcerting, considering that he hardly ever visited her because of his work.
'And yet it makes her happy.'
Aina didn't understand her very well. She couldn't understand how this woman could still look so peaceful when her husband was leaving her behind.
'I imagine it's love.'
This emotion was a mystery to her, much more than the others. She didn't understand its origin, or even its meaning.
"He must be busy with his job." she breathed absently.
'Like always.'
Aina observed her mistress in silence. She gave her the impression of being crushed under the weight of sadness and crying invisible tears. She tenderly caressed the petals of the flowers she held against her heart and seemed lost in thought. The young woman wondered for a moment if her mind had simply left her.
"Could you go see how the kids are doing?" she finally asked, not looking up from what seemed to be her treasure.
Aina raised her eyebrows imperceptibly at her request.
It was rare for her to be assigned to look after the younger members of the family, who were usually Elvan's responsibility. She had been there for many years, but she thought she had only seen the children once or twice since her arrival. She had already seen their silhouette from afar, during the family meal, but she had never really spoken to them before.
'Maybe Elvan is busy...'
She was curious to know what could have caused such a situation, but was careful not to ask questions.
"Alright ma'am." she nodded obediently.
Perhaps the butler was still in the grip of the young master's fury, which did not fail to sadden her. Elvan was a capable man, who almost always knew how to deal with family members, but she couldn't help but think of what might happen to him, if Master Envie finally made up his mind to cross the invisible boundary he had settled down.
"Before that, take the letters to the village." Lady Chagrin added, turning her back on her again. "Those are on the fireplace. »
She complied and grabbed the envelopes, before turning on her heels and heading for the door. She left the room and heard, through the half-opening which disappeared, the soft voice of her mistress which pierced in the distance, like a whisper. In that moment, she realized that she was humming.
"Don't cry Odette ..."
Then she hummed a perky tune, which denoted with the deep emptiness she discerned on her face, giving the little song an air of requiem. The sight of her mistress left her speechless and a deep pain stirred her insides, before a lump formed in her throat, as if she was choking. Aina mechanically held out her hand towards her, as if to hold her back – without really knowing why – but didn't hear the rest, because the door closed behind her, before the silence enveloped her again.
As soon as she found herself alone, her confusion faded and calm returned to her, as if it had never disappeared. She stood there for a few moments, as if frozen in front of the door, before turning on her heels and disappearing, without a sound.