Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Weeks ended, and soon after, months. Time felt as though it was flying by; every day was the same as the one before, with little variation. The same routine: wake up in a cold sweat at dawn, take breakfast and tea to the mistress, do chores, go to the market, and help make dinner. It was considerably simpler compared to the life I had led before, with a lot less violence to start the list.

The city lulled itself into a new day as the sunlight flooded the skyline. Running a hand through my (H/c) hair, I sat up and yawned. I slipped my brown dress over my head, securing my white apron around my waist, and bent down to slip my shoes onto my feet. I lifted my foot from the floor, only to wobble onto the ground from a lack of balance. The chains hit the floor with a sharp thud. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. On the cold floor, I slid the black shoes onto my heavy feet, attempting to simply be grateful I had been provided them in the first place.

I swayed around the kitchen, my left foot crossing over my right. I had just finished up the leftover dishes from breakfast and was now making Cordelia her teatime snack. After cleaning a platter, I set down a cutting board and twirled a knife in my fingers. Humming along to the song in my head, I began to chop away at the fruit left by the door by the delivery man. I sliced and diced, placing a vast array of produce onto the silver tray. My knife skillfully cut through the vibrant fruit, pushing it aside to cut more. I quietly sang the few words I remembered from my childhood tune.

It was the song of my mother; a song of my people. She had taught it to me when I was a child. We'd sit together under the tree by our home and sing it together. There were more words to it, but as time moved on, they were left behind. I smiled at the memory, focusing on the tune rather than the forgotten lyrics. I continued to balter, 'Oh, how I wish I could dance without these chains . . .'

I continued my task, lost in thought. "I've never heard a tune quite like that." A sharp voice spoke behind my ear. I whipped around at animalistic speed, my ankles twisting into each other. I squeaked in surprise, finding the haughty face of an amused Dolus Zenon.

"I— Sir!" I dropped my head and bowed sloppily, my heart jumping out of my chest.

He chuckled, "Where did you learn that song? I've never heard anything like it."

I rose, hesitantly answering his question, "It is a song my mother taught me when I was little," I stammered, "I have long forgotten most of the words, and the title eludes me." I felt my head begin to pound with anxiety. "It is a very old song of my people, sir."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his hand rise as I spoke. My feet shuffled back anticipatedly, and I felt my back meet the counter. Flinching and bracing for impact, he reached past me and picked up a mango slice, popping it into his mouth with a hum of delight, "Interesting," He chuckled, "How exotic."

Watching as he walked away, I shook off our encounter and finished tea-time preparations. I walked down the hall alongside a few other servants carrying my tray. We entered an outdoor garden with large trees and bright flowers. Vines crept up the walls and stone adornments, amongst the leaves fluttered a spare few insects.

Walking to the table, I set down the tray, attempting to keep out of Cordelia's conversation with Dolus. I shuffled away quickly, anxiously waiting for permission to leave.

"Thank you, (Y/n). Now off with you." Cordelia commented, waving her hand while grabbing a few strawberry slices with her other hand. I walked out of the garden, but upon hearing my name and a deep chuckle from Dolus, I hid behind the door and listened.

"-Ah, yes. She has been very useful here;" Cordelia's bright voice spoke, "Thank you." She paused, "So, why exactly are you here, Father?"

He laughed, leaning his chin on his palm, "Can't a father be allowed to visit his daughter?"

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⏰ Last updated: May 11 ⏰

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