Resident Evil Village - Maiden x Female lords: Maidens Revenge

21| A ruse

Chapter twenty one

Across the room, a woman stood, with eyes wide and red around the corners and ducts. Her hair was long and the lightest of blondes. It lied stringy and wet, sticking to her thin, pale and grey flesh that gave way to her dark veins, leaving hues of yellow and purple bruising.

The slight creases of age across her forehead, eyes and mouth, presumed her middle aged.

Her frame was near scarcely thin in form, and she wore soiled, beige rags and a jacket instead of the uniforms kept for maidens in their usual chambers. Clothing from ones own home, presumably.

A dull-yet sharp-kitchen knife was in her firm grasp. Even in the fair distance you held from each other, you could see her trembling, her face folded into a sneering glare.

You looked the woman over, your expression now falling null at the familiar sight. She was a woman shaking in fear, ready to defend herself as you had when you were taken to the castle. Little did you know-like she-your defense remained blind, good for a moment to run to the nearest hiding spot at best, only to be be found once again.

And even then, a woman in fear was also one to lash on impulse because of it, sparing no mercy most of times, until she broke free or had grown tired, or was stopped. Because of this you remained alert, yet calm with this understanding.

Carefully, you took slow steps towards the wooden table in the middle of the room, turning your eyes towards a large spreadsheet with recipes listed. Above them read..

Mother Miranda ~ Pork Goulash
The Dimitrescu women ~ French Coq au Vin
Karl Heisenberg ~ Mititei
Donna Beneviento ~ Pork Goulash
Salvatore Moreau ~ Pork Goulash (bloodworms added)

Your fingers and pupils trailed along the words, just before your eyes darted towards the knife that twitched with every burst of harsh shudder drawing from the woman's hand.

"Who are you?" you then questioned.

You raised the list of recipes, scanning over what needed to be done first.

"I could ask you the same, miss." immediately scoffed the woman.

Her rotating the blade made you cast your attention back on to her quick hand. Her fingers were coarse from what had to be years of labor. Grime hid in the crevices of her frail nails.

You looked the woman in her dark, restless eyes, "Fair."

"Well, I promise whatever you plan to do with that knife will only cause you more problems. Lady Dimitrescu assigned you as my helper, so inform me on what it is you're doing and I'll chime in."

With caution, you walked around the table to the opposite side of her, glancing into the sink to see she had already begun to wash pots and pans before you arrived.

The woman hesitated before setting the blade on the counter, her hand close within it's reach still. With her other hand, she gripped the top of her messy hair that was coiled into and tied back with a hair tie.

"Here," with immediate speed, she gripped a rather large pot off the counter, slamming it into the nearest sink to you, causing the low pool of sitting water to spatter all over you and your uniform.