I was confused. Who was this stranger staring back at me in the mirror? I poked my right cheek; the figure in the mirror did the same. I pinched my skin; this wasn't a dream.
"What on Earth…?"
"Roberta, who is at the door?"
I turned toward the voice and saw a middle-aged man with blue hair, a cane, and a top hat approaching.
"Huh?"
"Why aren't you opening the door, you fool half-breed? Seriously, sometimes I wonder why I ever fucked your mother! Goddammit!"
"Huh?"
The man strode past me and opened the door himself.
"Greetings, Sir Victor. Please, come in."
"Greetings to you too, Lord Crimsonfield. I must say, Roberta is playing hard to get today! Hohoho!"
"Is that so?" Lord Crimsonfield cast a sneering glare in my direction. "Shall I discipline her for you, Sir Victor?"
"Oh my, that won't be necessary, Milord. Here, my dear Roberta, some flowers for you." He handed me a bouquet.
"Very well. Please, join us for dinner, Sir Victor. Hahahaha."
"Ooh, delightful! This trip took so long, I haven't had a bite of anything exquisite in two days!"
"Is that so?"
"Oh yes! All I had to eat was a bunch of sardines on the way here."
"That sounds dreadful. Come, tell me more about your exploits over a glass of wine."
I remained frozen by the mirror, watching the whole exchange unfold. 'This has got to be a dream, right? There's no frigging way.'
"Roberta! What are you doing? Come here! The guest is here for you!"
I blinked in confusion. Was he talking to someone else? I glanced around, then hesitantly pointed at myself.
"What are you waiting for, Roberta? Get over here, Goddammit!" Lord Crimsonfield barked as he entered the dining room.
I hesitated before finally deciding to follow.
Once we had entered the dining room, I took a seat next to the middle-aged man at the head of the table, as did the blonde-haired man.
"Why are you sitting next to us, Roberta? Do you not know your place? Go sit where you belong," the man snapped.
I hesitated, confused, before shifting three seats back.
"Keep moving," he ordered.
I moved four more seats back.
"Further."
With no choice, I kept going until I was seated at the very end of the table. He stared at me with open contempt.
"What's gotten into you, Roberta? Hm? Why are you acting like such a dimwit today? Hm? Should I cut off your hair again? Hm?"
I felt a shiver down my spine. "Uhm… no."
"No what?"
How the hell am I supposed to know that? I thought. The way things were going, I had to come up with an answer fast. "Milord."
"Milord? Well, that's a new one, I suppose!" The middle-aged man let out a sharp laugh, joined by the blonde-haired man.
"Oh yes, Sir Victor, you said you would tell me about your latest exploits, didn't you? Well then, let's hear it." He dipped his hand into his collar and pulled out a tiny whistle and blew on it. Two maids entered with jugs of wine, pouring the beverage slowly into the cups held by the two men.
"Ah, yes, my journey," Victor began. "On my way here, I ran into a Minotaur. Luckily, my horsemen and guards survived the fray, but my sword was shattered to bits. Nothing left but the scabbard and the handle."
"Oh my, how tragic!"
"Right? So, I had to use my fists instead."
"Oh my! Such is the power of youth! Where did you learn to battle a magic beast using your bare hands?"
"During one of my expeditions to the East, I encountered a martial artist who had the ability to shatter rocks in two using his bare hands by harnessing something known as Chi. I asked him to teach it to me, but he wouldn't," he laughed, swirling the wine in his glass. "So, I told him I would lynch his wife and daughter."
My stomach twisted. He spoke so casually, as though talking about the weather.
"Amazing, Sir Victor!" Lord Crimsonfield praised him. "How long did it take you to master this 'Chi'?"
"About two weeks. If you know how to use magic, learning Chi is fairly straightforward."
"Is that so? You'll have to teach me sometime, Victor."
"Of course. I doubt it would be much of a challenge for you."
"Well then, let's toast to that! Hahaha!"
"Cheers!"
Their cups clinked together. But as Lord Crimsonfield took a sip, he immediately made a face of disgust and spat the liquid onto the floor. He wiped his mouth furiously.
"Why the fuck did you pour me red wine instead of rosé?" he growled.
One of the maids stiffened, lowering her head. "My apologies, milord. I will fetch the rosé immediately."
"You made me look like a fool, you stupid bitch!" Abruptly, he struck out at her with his cane. She shrieked, dropping to the floor and curling into a ball like a cornered animal. But he was not through.
Victor, still seated, sipped his wine. "Could I have some more, sweetheart?" he asked the other maid. Her hands trembled as she tried to pour his drink.
Anger boiled through me. In an instant, I lunged forward and threw myself between them, standing over the maid as I held her in my embrace.
The cane struck my back.
"AAAH!!" I cried out.
Lord Crimsonfield's expression darkened. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Roberta? Are you stupid?"
I clenched my fists. "I should be asking you the same. Who do you think you are, hitting this woman over something as trivial as wine?"
His eyes blazed with fury. "You're really starting to piss me off, Roberta. Get out of my sight. Now…" he turned to one of the maids. "Stella, lock her in her chambers."
The maid I just protected stood up as if nothing had happened.
"Yes, master," she bowed.
I had no choice but to follow her.
As we walked down the hallways, I absorbed the spooky atmosphere. The walls were covered with portraits, each one of which showed men who were identical to Lord Crimsonfield. Yet one of the paintings made my blood run cold. A tiny, desiccated paint droplet clung to the canvas like a tiny, wrinkled sweat droplet on the subject's face. The paint around it appeared to shimmer ever so slightly, giving the effect of dampness. The painting itself seemed to be perspiring. I hastened my step, a feeling of intense uneasiness washing over me.
"Thank you for trying to protect me, Lady Roberta." Said the maid.
"Hey, no problem. We sistas outta look out for each other. Right?"
"Huh? But I'm not your sister."
"It's a figure of speech."
"R…right."
"Hey! What's with that look on your face?"
"It's just that, you seem to be acting a bit out of character today, Lady Roberta."
"I mean, it's cos I'm not this Roberta y'all keep talking about. My name is Amaka."
The maid walked up to me and placed the back of her hand on my forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever. You must be tired. Try using your time in the chamber as a chance to rest."
When she mentioned the word 'fever', I realised that I didn't feel sick. I could walk and breathe without any chest pain.
"Milady, please, enter your chamber," she said as she opened the door to "my" room.
"R…right." I entered the room. The room exuded Gothic grandeur, with soaring ceilings, dark wood panelling, and stained-glass windows that cast a dramatic glow. A majestic four-poster bed, draped in velvet, stood prominently, adding a touch of luxury. Ornate furnishings and candlelit shadows completed the picture, evoking a sense of history and elegance.
"I'm sorry, Milady," she said as she locked the door. All that was left was me, in this gigantic hall of a room. I decided to sit on the window bench in order to take in some air as a form of escapism from this prison of a mansion. I opened the window to be greeted by a mild breeze of air carrying the smell of flora in its flight. "Looks like there's no snow."
I decided to sit there for a while, as I took in the scenery. I got absorbed into a trance as I gazed upon the sky. My mind felt empty. After a while, I heard some strange murmuring. Eventually, that murmuring turned to words. "Roberta! Roberta! Oii, Roberta! Hey! I'm calling you!"
"Huh?" I realised that this voice was calling out to me. It's to be expected, I was not used to being called Roberta. When I came to, I noticed a young man with brown skin and blonde tipped dreadlocks standing on a branch of the tree outside the bedroom window. He held a bouquet of flowers too. I was so confused. Strangely enough, he looked somewhat familiar. I couldn't put my finger on why that was the case.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"What do you mean? Idiot." He chuckled. "Hey, can I come in?"
"No… who are you?"
"What do you mean who am I? You're the one who asked me to come here!"
"When?"
"Just let me in before the servants catch me!"
"Uhm… okay."
"Thank you!" He then jumped into my room. The moment he landed; I went towards the window. I
stuck my head out to see if anyone had noticed him. However, I realised that my room was four stories high-- meaning this dude casually climbed all the way up like it was nothing. I was in disbelief.
"Who the hell are you?"
"It's me, Ragna… Hello? Are you okay? You weren't gone for that long, you know."
"Oh… uhm… yeah. Ragna of course," I paused for a bit. "Why are you here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I came for you. Roberta." Said Ragna as he lifted my chin and closed in on my face.
'Wait…wait…wait…wait…wait?! What the hell is going on here?!!'