The hall was quiet. Too quiet.
You know that feeling when even the birds outside decide to shut up? That's how it felt when I said it.
"Also leave the potion… lest you want the Count to know about it."
The air actually stiffened. Not even joking.
Mr. Butler, usually a walking statue of discipline, just… stopped. His eyes got wide. The look on his face? Priceless. Like I'd slapped him with a wet fish. Maybe seeing the shy, quiet, never-speak-unless-spoken-to child suddenly bark orders like a grown-up shocked him.
He frowned. "The Count must know the happenings of his estate."
"True," I said, calm like cold tea. "But shall he be troubled with matters of that one which already trouble him so much?"
That shut him up. Like, proper mute. Just blinking at me like I was a riddle he couldn't solve.
Cat got your tongue, huh? I thought, secretly grinning.
"Then it's settled," I said before he could gather his noble wits. "Please have it repaired, Mr. Butler."
I pulled out the necklace from my hand and gave it to him. The same necklace I had broken—on purpose, no less. He took it slowly, like it might explode.
He walked away slow, thoughts flying around his head like bees on espresso.
To report or not to report… that is the question, I imagined him panicking in full Shakespearian mode.
Whatever. His mess now.
Now for the real drama.
I turned to the maid. Poor girl was still frozen on the floor like someone hit pause on her soul. Her eyes bounced between me and the vanishing butler like she was watching a ping-pong match.
Time for answers.
I cleared my throat. "And you. Your name?"
She blinked. "Me?"
"No, the ghost behind you. Yes, you."
Her cheeks flushed. "It's Anna, Miss. Anna Beckley."
"Alright, Anna." I sat on the floor. Chairs were too high anyway. "Now tell me everything. No sugar-clotting. No noble-approved fairy tales."
"Well," she whispered, "people say strange things about you."
"No shocker there. What exactly?"
"It's your hair, Miss."
I raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess—too shiny?"
She giggled nervously. "It's… black. Like ink. Like shadows at midnight. And no one in the Count's line has ever had black hair."
"So?"
"Well…" Anna leaned closer, all secret-like. "You weren't born here. Not in the estate. It was at your mother's home. Far away. She went for a visit and stayed."
"With me."
"Yes. She stayed behind—for safety. But then, when the time came, it was a stormy night. Lightning, thunder, trees cracking. It's like the heavens themselves were angry."
She paused. I let it hang in the air.
"She died giving birth to you."
I didn't flinch. But inside, something turned.
"And after that… people whispered. That maybe the child—you—was cursed. That maybe you ate your mother from inside."
"How charming."
"I don't believe it! But the legend had it. And the black hair? That's their 'sign'. Bad omen. Not meant to be. Born from shadow. Bringer of death."
"And the Count?"
"They say he tried to deny it. Some said you weren't his. As rumours rose, a priest was called. He did… something. Tests? I don't know. But he confirmed you were legitimate."
"Then the Count remarried. Lady from the Eastern fields. Elegant like a swan, cold like frozen socks."
"She gave him two kids. Twins. She didn't let you meet them. Said your curse might rub off."
Not every word of her can be trusted. For as I remember, Isha never left her room 'cause of her nature. Then again, her sources are rumours to begin with.
I didn't know what was real anymore.
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows like melted gold. Noon had definitely arrived.
"What was mother like?" I spoke without realising. Maybe Isha wanted to know.
Anna blinked. "Lady Lily? Oh… she was beautiful, Miss. Pretty like the flowers she was named after. She had many suitors. Barons, lords, poets… But her father, the Marquise of Glenshire, chose the Count. No one knows why."
"Did she love him?"
Anna frowned. "I don't think she was given the choice."
My chest tightened.
"She wasn't allowed outside much. The Count kept her like a bird in a pretty cage. The only time she left was when the Duke, friend of Marquise, himself ordered. That's when she had you."
"…And died."
"Yes."
Her words settled over me like dust on old books. I couldn't shake the image of a lovely woman trapped behind locked windows.
" What is the legend-"
My stomach growled. Loudly.
I froze.
Anna looked away, pretending not to hear.
Truth is, breakfast was just some sad potato soup. It tasted like boiled socks.
"Anna," I said, "fetch lunch to my room."
"Yes, Miss!" she said.
Lunch was much better. Like, she really understood the assignment.
Grilled trout. Buttery greens. Soft little bread rolls with jam. A bowl of creamy soup that didn't taste like foot. A lunch fit for a six-year-old queen.
I sat on a tea table, devouring it like I hadn't just been royalty-musing five minutes ago.
Just as I finished my third bread roll, I asked, "Hey Anna… wait. How old am I again?"
She smiled. "You're six, Miss Isha."
"Six?" I blinked. 'That's… criminally small.'
And just like that, my very criminally small body betrayed me.
…I fell asleep.
Mid-bread-bite.
Face half in a velvet pillow. Soup on my sleeve. Crumbs in my hair.
My brain was still adulting, but my body was like: Naptime, idiot.
When I woke up, hours later, on bed under blanket.The trout was gone, Anna was missing, and my dignity was somewhere under the couch.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
"Wait… Did I just… toddler crash?"
I looked around.