The next morning, Zafron woke to the soft chiming of the clock in his room. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, remembering his musings from the night before. Shaking off the lingering questions, he focused on the day ahead.
He quickly dressed in his uniform and made his way through the bustling corridors of Blackthorn Mansion. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and the chatter of servants starting their day.
"Morning, Zafron!" called out the cook as he passed the kitchen.
"Good morning," he replied with a smile, grabbing a piece of toast on his way. He was sure she wouldn't mind as she had asked him to pick one on his second day. Plus she looked like the type that enjoyed when everyone enjoyed her cooking.
He weaved past the barrage of women in the kitchen with her assisting in one thing or the other. Although the mistress was the only one in the house who was being catered for, the hands in the pot were more than what Zafron could even qualify excess. However, who was he to tell the rich how to live their life?
As he approached Lady Matilda's chambers, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the morning routine. He knocked gently on the door.
"Come in, Zafron," Lady Matilda's voice rang out.
He entered to find her already awake, seated at her vanity. Lady Matilda's hair flowed in soft waves, already styled to perfection even in the early morning light, framing her face with a natural elegance. As she sat at her vanity, her posture graceful, a subtle hint of excitement sparkled in her eyes.
Her nightgown, crafted from sheer chiffon, revealed a hint of cleavage that seemed to promise a lot more than they revealed.
The neckline was adorned with a lace that added a touch of allure to her beautiful curves and skin. The fabric draped softly over her thighs, its gentle flow accentuating the slender curve of her legs, hinting at the beauty hidden beneath its translucent veil.
"Good morning, my lady. Are you ready to begin?"
Lady Matilda nodded, a hint of excitement in her eyes. "Indeed. Let's begin with the Morning Ritual of Rejuvenation!"
Zafron suppressed a smile. Lady Matilda's morning routine was as elaborate as it was peculiar, but he had quickly learned to appreciate its eccentricities.
First, he helped her into a silk robe embroidered with peacock feathers. Then, he carefully arranged seven different kinds of flowers in a circle around her as she sat cross-legged on a plush cushion in the center of the room.
"Now, the chimes, if you please," Lady Matilda instructed.
Zafron gently rang a series of crystal chimes in a specific order, their tinkling sounds filling the air. Lady Matilda closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
Next came the "aromatic awakening." Zafron lit incense sticks of sandalwood, rose, and jasmine, wafting the smoke around Lady Matilda in figure-eight patterns.
"Ah, delightful," she sighed. "Now, for the elixir."
Zafron mixed a concoction of herbal teas, fresh-squeezed citrus juices, and a dash of honey in a silver goblet. Lady Matilda sipped it slowly while Zafron read aloud from a book of ancient poetry.
The final step involved Zafron helping Lady Matilda apply a series of colorful face masks, each left on for precisely two minutes before being replaced by the next.
As peculiar as the ritual was, Zafron had to admit that Lady Matilda always emerged from it looking refreshed and radiant.
"Wonderful, Zafron," she said as he helped her to her feet. "Now, I have a few errands for you. Please take yesterday's gowns to the laundry. Oh, and do remind Cook that I prefer my afternoon tea with a hint of lavender."
"Of course, my lady," Zafron nodded, gathering the gowns.
As he made his way to the laundry room, arms full of silk and lace, he couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between his current life and his past. The morning's ritual, as odd as it was, had become a comforting part of his new routine.
He passed Mara in the hallway, who raised an eyebrow at the pile of gowns. "Busy morning?"
"You have no idea," Zafron chuckled, continuing on his way, ready to tackle the day's tasks with a sense of purpose and belonging he was still getting used to.
********************
Late afternoon, Matilda enjoyed taking leisurely walks around the city, especially in the serene gardens. Today was no different, and as she strolled, she called upon Zaphron to join her. He gladly accepted, falling into step beside her as they wandered through the pathways adorned with blooming flowers and tranquil fountains.
As Lady Matilda and Zafron strolled through the lush gardens, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns. Lady Matilda paused to admire a particularly vibrant rose bush.
"You know, Zafron," she began, her voice tinged with nostalgia, "I first met the master of Blackthorn Mansion at a garden party much like this one. He was so charming, so full of life and ambition."
Zafron listened attentively, sensing a rare opportunity to learn more about the elusive lord of the manor.
Lady Matilda continued, "We were married within the year. Oh, how grand the celebration was! The entire town turned out to witness our union."
Her expression darkened slightly as she resumed walking. "But things change, don't they? The years pass, and people... well, they change too."
Zafron carefully ventured a question. "Has the master been away long, my lady?"
Lady Matilda's lips thinned. "Too long, I'm afraid. Always on business trips, he says. Expanding our interests, securing our future." She sighed heavily. "But a future for whom, I wonder?"
"A woman..." Matilda began, stopping to look at Zaphron, "I have needs that neither his money nor absence can meet. But of course, you..."
Realizing she had perhaps said too much, Lady Matilda quickly composed herself. "Oh, but listen to me prattling on about such matters. It's hardly appropriate conversation, is it?"