[I will wait for you as long as it takes.]
Aina opened her eyes to the sound of a distant voice, slightly muffled by the sound of her breathing.
'They are becoming more and more frequent.'
These strangely familiar voices, but which she nevertheless couldn't identify, which occasionally resonated in her mind like echoes reverberating against her skull. Those which tormented her and seemed to speak to her, even in her sleep. She had no idea who her mysterious nocturnal companions were, but she noted that their words left only a deep feeling of emptiness, mixed with sadness, within her when she woke up.
Any normally constituted person would probably have panicked knowing they were subject to hallucinations of this type, but not Aina. She saw in them only a simple disturbance and even found them occasionally comforting, like old childhood friends with whom she would have grown up. After so many years, they were almost part of her and she found herself feeling an unpleasant feeling at the idea of them disappearing.
Her gaze stopped on the window of her room overlooking the garden, the one that the gardener took care of diligently and yet which still had the appearance of a plain that had been ravaged by flames. Even today, she did not see the golden sun shining above the village and the capital. She saw only a crimson crescent in a sand-colored sky, which gave her the impression that day had not really dawned.
Like a cat waking up, she stretched, yawning, and peered at the clock, which hadn't moved a bit since her arrival here. Given the position of the sun and her tendency to have particularly precise and timed sleep, she deduced that it could not be more than eight in the morning. Her mind still foggy with fatigue, she placed her feet on the floor and staggered, rubbing her eyes to the white marble sink that sat on the wall opposite her bed.
She wordlessly scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. She had messy hair, slightly dark circles under her eyes, and pale skin. She had a strange feeling of deja vu at the thought... As if she had already experienced this moment before, but not within this mansion. She racked her brain, trying to bring out the slightest memory that would confirm or not her feeling, but nothing came to her, apart from a deep feeling of frustration, which was very familiar to her.
[Take your time.] she remembered the words Elvan had said to her a few days earlier and almost simultaneously, about the events of the day before.
Embarrassed by the memory of her superior so close to her and her beating heart, she brought her hands to her cheeks, biting her lips. She still felt so emotional just thinking about it...
She had to pull herself together and stop telling herself stories, because what she imagined would never happen. As considerate and welcoming as this family was, it was not hers. Ultimately, Aina was alone. She had no one to rely on but herself, and although Elvan was the closest to what she could consider a friend right now, she realized that he was after all only her superior.
[I'll wait for you.]
She thought back to the voice she had heard a few minutes earlier and wondered if it was addressed to her.
'Wait for me...'
Maybe she had someone she cared about after all? A person who cared about her, like Elvan, but not simply out of professional obligation. A person who had haunted her thoughts and her nights for more than three years, one of those whose existence, even forgotten, remained ingrained in her like a mark made with indelible ink.
'A loved one.'
She wondered what it felt like to love another human being. To adore, with a love so strong that one would forget oneself, one's own desires.
'A bit like Rage with Chagrin.'
Because as cruel and cold as the patriarch was, it was clear that he was irremediably in love with his wife, to the point of becoming completely obsessive. He would never have tolerated the matriarch walking away, or deigning to look away from him, even when his violence overwhelmed her so much that she wanted to die.
She had never loved anyone or simply didn't remember them. Affection, tenderness and passion were feelings that were foreign to her. She recognized them without difficulty when she observed them in someone else, but she could not describe them, or even imagine them. Sometimes she didn't even understand the meaning. Also, she did not understand her master, who seemed to be trying to completely erase all presence of his wife through his words and his attitude, without however succeeding in separating from her.
This passion mixed with hatred made her strangely think of the memory of her parents. The one in which she remembered having witnessed the silent exchange of her father and mother, who seemed ready to jump at each other's throats, but nevertheless unable to look away from each other. This inexplicable contradiction was a real mystery to her, an insoluble enigma. Human relationships were generally difficult to understand for her, who most of the time felt very little and whose entire being was only the result of 4 years of life. The only ones she remembered.
'Well, that's not entirely true.'
She had noticed for some time that certain family members seemed to provoke feelings in her that she thought she could no longer feel. She sometimes had the impression that the void that constantly inhabited her was closing little by little, the more she was around the Signavit, as if their simple presence was enough to recover fragments of her lost soul.
'Like Elvan, or Chagrin.'
When she thought of her mistress, discomfort twisted her stomach. She knew she had to go take care of her, right after the young master. She, who was usually reluctant to visit Envie, now felt more inclined to serve him, than to see the wife again who was nevertheless so gentle and caring. She also noticed with this thought, that her hands slowed down, while she prepared herself, as if her whole body refused to face the mistakes she had made the day before. However, she had no choice, she had work and she did not have the leisure to worry about her feelings.
So she resumed her preparation with a sigh and quickened her pace, aware that time was passing and that she was going to end up being late. After a few minutes, she finally finished her preparation and put on her uniform one last time, before approaching the door to rush into the corridor.
It was at this moment that a noise, like the rustling of paper on wood, drew her attention to the floor. In response to what she saw, her lips parted in surprise and a vague gasp escaped it.
On the dark wooden floor was delicately placed a small card, like the one she had already found before and face down. At the sight of it, the young woman's heart began to pound in her chest and a vague anguish passed through her.
'A message... Like last time.'
She realized with amazement that her hands were starting to shake and wondered what to do. Last time, someone had warned her that something strange was happening in the mansion. What would it be about this time? Perplexed and in doubt, she hesitated, torn between the desire to satisfy her curiosity and the desire to simply act as if nothing had happened. Yet she bent down and slid her fingers across the piece of paper before realizing it and bringing it up to her face, as if in a mechanical movement motivated by an invisible force other than her own will.
"They lie. Go back there." she read, in a whisper, listening for the slightest noise that could indicate that she was not alone in the corridor.
They're lying... But who was it? Signavit? From someone else she wasn't thinking of? The first thing that came to mind was Désespoir's disappearance, which everyone seemed to vehemently deny, almost convincing Aina that she had been hallucinating. But she didn't really understand why everyone would want to deceive her, nor why someone would leave her this kind of enigmatic note. She was, after all, just another servant.
Despite everything, the words that she reread again and again left a strange aftertaste in her mouth, like a touch of bitterness that made her grimace with displeasure. She had the impression that someone was playing with her, her condition and the events that had just happened, like a puppeteer with his wooden dolls.
'Go back there.'
But return where ? She wanted to think about it more, but suddenly jumped when the chime of the hallway clock resonated between the walls, bringing the young woman back to reality. She didn't have time for that now.
'I need to go back to work'. She thought as she slipped the piece of paper into her dress.