The Knight Serves the Little Princess – Part 03
As the new year arrived, the snow grew even deeper.
Castle de Blois resembled a miniature, sugar-coated candy castle decorating the top of a frosty white cake. The cold permeating the inside of the stone structure made it feel like being in a castle made of ice. The maid shivered.
Something was happening in the stone tower. The maid didn’t know exactly what it was. Marquis de Blois and his subordinates were going in and out incessantly. The butler explained to the head maid that they were employees of an organization called the Ministry of the Occult, which operated in Saubreme, but lower-ranked staff did not really understand.
The only time the maid was told to boil more and more water was on that Christmas night. She surmised that there was someone sick in the tower. They were kept in the dark, and the lord’s wife and son, who spent their time in the spacious and luxurious rooms of the castle, stubbornly avoided any mention of the tower.
After a short break with her poor family, the maid returned to Castle de Blois a few days later, riding in a shabby carriage. Her lively siblings, the vegetable soup her mother made, and her father’s silent concern about her work fueled her determination to give her best for another year of service and support her adorable siblings. Lost in her thoughts, she alighted from the carriage, when something resembling a bright red flame caught her attention, and she nearly stumbled.
Outside Castle de Blois, beside an old fir tree, stood a young man wearing an urban-style coat and boots that were not common in this area. His hair, hanging down casually, was as red as flames. The snow accumulating on the top of his head said he had been there for some time now.
He glanced in her direction. His cat-like green eyes flickered with anger, and his eyelids quivered.
“Um…”
The maid set her suitcase down. Following the instructions of the head maid, who was several years her senior, she grabbed the edges of her heavy black cotton skirt and bowed. She had been taught to do so whenever addressing a gentleman.
The young man stared down at her petite figure, as if observing something peculiar.
“Do you have business at the castle, Sir?” the maid asked. “If so, please don’t hesitate to inform me.”
His thin lips twisted slightly at the rigorous speech coming from the mouth of a child no older than twelve or thirteen. It looked like a smile.
Pointing casually towards the castle, he asked, “Are there any guests here? A young woman. She’s my lover.”
“Do you mean a lady?” The young maid tilted her head. Bewildered, she answered, “In this castle, we have the Marquis and his wife, their son Master Grevil, who is on winter break from boarding school. And then there are us, the humble servants.”
“Hmm. Then among the servants, is there anyone about this tall?”
The man held his hand parallel to the ground, indicating a height much shorter than that of the maid.
His fiery red hair flared like a torch in the winter wind. However, the flame somehow felt cold, devoid of any warmth. The maid shivered and hunched her shoulders.
“Is there a lovely woman with golden hair and green eyes here? I’ve searched everywhere for her and my search has led me here. If she’s not here, then who took her and where did she disappear to…”
“A woman with golden hair?”
“My Cordelia…”
“There is no such lady here.”
The man’s shoulders slumped. As he turned to walk away, the maid’s breath caught in her throat.
“Oh, come to think of it,” she muttered.
The man glanced back. His eyes were cold and burning with rage. The maid grew even more frightened.
“In the tower,” she said, pointing at the structure.
The man looked up. “What about the tower?” Then, he seemed to realize something.
“Um, I don’t know who it is, but it seems there is a sick person in there. On Christmas night, I boiled a lot of water, which was carried to the tower.”
“I see. The tower, huh? No, it can’t be. However…”
The man clenched his teeth tightly. A foul, animalistic breath spilled from between his teeth.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said briefly, then leaped with surprising agility, extending both arms.
He placed his hand on the maid’s slender neck. Green, sorrowful eyes, devoid of humanity from extreme anger and resentment, drew closer to her. Startled, the maid’s eyes snapped wide.
The snow started falling more heavily.
“I need to silence you. It’s nothing personal. If Cordelia is in that tower, I don’t want Marquis de Blois finding out I was here.”
“No, please don’t kill me.”
The man snorted. “Why not? How can a skinny little kid like you beg for your life from a grownup like me? Show me how you’d do it.”
“My younger brother and sister will starve.”
“…”
As though suddenly feeling pity, the man stopped his hand.
The snow intensified, creating an icy curtain between them. The maid’s eyes remained wide open as she made the sign of the cross repeatedly.
The man sighed in resignation. “Can you keep quiet about meeting me, then?”
“I didn’t meet anyone.”
“Not the Marquis, the butler, the head maid, the servants, not even family or friends. Can you keep it from everyone?”
“I-I didn’t see anyone.”
Tears began to stream down her face.
The man glared down at her for a few moments, then shook his head and patted the head of the fragile girl.
“Go, before I change my mind.”
“Um…”
“Go, you worthless, skinny little runt!”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
“Damn it… Why would I even do that…?”
“Goodbye, mister!”
“What did you call me? Hey, come back here!”
The maid darted at full speed into the castle, as if being pursued by a beast. Breathing raggedly, she looked out the window. The man was nowhere to be seen.
Late that night, the faint sobbing of her fellow maid in the adjacent bed woke her up. She was feeling homesick as she had just returned from a trip to see her family. Whispering words of comfort to her companion, she reached out into the darkness to light the candle, illuminating the space beside the bed.
“Ah!”
The young girl blinked. The worn-out suitcase she had left behind because of the strange, red-haired man—originally her father’s—now rested next to her pillow.
The man, whose hair billowed like a rage-fueled torch, must have brought it in silently.
She rose quietly and checked the door. It was securely locked from the inside. The windows, too, were tightly shut.
“Incredible… He’s like an illusionist… No, a magician.”
She touched her own neck. If he could come and go as he pleased, he could have easily strangled her in her sleep to ensure her silence. She shuddered at the thought. Her fellow maid in the adjacent bed had been awake and crying the whole time, yet she didn’t notice the intruder.
The girl cast a glance back at the soaring tower outside the window.
Terrified yet filled with curiosity, she murmured to herself, “Who could be in that tower? And who is this golden-haired woman that the red-haired man is searching for?”
This, too, was an event from the distant past.
The young maid would never meet Brian again or uncover the truth of the matter.
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