Walking was peaceful. I remember my best days, wandering through the Ducato with Monica holding my hand. I would explore the little corners, searching for some surprise, some adventure. Those were happy days for me, moments when I felt loved in some way.
Despite being just a maid, she was my best friend, the only one I had to talk to, have fun with, to live a little outside the small bubble that was my house, that cold house that always scared me at night.
I remember the garden, the colorful flowers that Monica tended to with so much care. I would always help her water the small sprouts she planted. We both sat in the shade of the big fig tree, she braiding my hair while telling stories of distant kingdoms, brave knights, and evil demons.
The gentle breeze touching my face, her laughter when I asked if there was ever a knight who had saved a princess like me.
