Pinocchio Antiquariato

X. Nursemaid's Songs

Heart of mine weep not, for ages fade away,

The flaxen threads your fingers combed,

And freesia scents your nostrils longed,

Will melt into a pot of gold,

Of memories far away.

... ... ...

Singing lullabies to the lord was the last thing on Nicole's mind until after Mrs. Ashfield shocked the whole household to wakefulness with her banshee scream. The servants should really be more considerate of her being the smallest and most sensitive of all mythical creatures occupying the manor! Not that she did not enjoy Lord Mircea's company, of course—she treasured every opportunity she got close to the lord. The man was a looker.

And it had been so long since she'd had the opportunity to be alone with the centuries old bachelor. Nicole was witness to his many transformations, posing different guises as an illusion of his lineage. When Mr. Matthews met him, he was Lord Cassius Mircea. When Mrs. Ashfield met him, he was Lord Lynch Mircea.

When Nicole met him, he was Lord Adrian Mircea. And she was his 'wife'.

Nicole recalled how the lord needed a ruse to stay in his earldom for so long without society knowing about his immortality. During the wake of the 19th century when she first met him, people were already beginning to speculate of his unnatural youth and mysterious ancestry. It was she who suggested that she pose as his wife for a time, and Nicole would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the lord's eccentricities and attempts at public displays of affection. England society had never been so livid since Lord and Lady Mircea graced the courts with their impropriety.

Those had been good times. And Lord Lucian Mircea as the dashing, blonde Adrian was a gorgeous man.

But even the most gorgeous of men would not be enough to part her from her bed. She wished she could say the same for Mrs. Ashfield though. She would rather not risk the scolding she'd receive if she attended to her duties too late.

She was summoned to the lord's chambers before she had the opportunity to select her most fashionable evening wear. Nicole valued how she was presented to the lord so much that she decided only the best nighties suited the man's vision. But Mrs. Ashfield had explained that the lord was excessively bleeding as a result from a clash with Allen and there was no time to lose. So Nicole did the next best thing by transforming into her true form: a solitary sprite the size of the lord's palm.

She zoomed past the empty corridors, ignoring the way the pines cast ominous shadows through the window, filling the halls with the contrasting moonlight and gloom of the manor. Nicole was not afraid of the dark, but she wasn't very fond of it all the same. Strange creatures hid within the shadows, most likely solitary imps the lord picked up from his travels. The soonest her light touched even a smidgen of their darkness, the pesky things latched onto her like leeches. With that in mind, her wings fluttered furiously while she sped through the hallways, eager to meet with the earl.

When she turned the corner, she came to a full stop at the sight of the doll standing in the middle. She was dressed in white robes, her flaxen waves like silver threads of silk pouring over small shoulders. Soulless blue eyes stared back at her, expectant and unblinking.

Nicole rubbed at her eyes to make sure she wasn't imagining what she'd seen. When she opened them, the doll was gone.

"I'm probably just fibbing," she murmured to herself before she continued on her way.

Even when she told herself it was a mere apparition, Nicole could still feel the doll's eyes on her. She hurried her pace.

... ... ...