Erin’s sleep was heavenly, and the new day was young. Or at least to Ezra on the former, the day was young and his new mistresses appeared to be enjoying some form of divine activity through her lapse in consciousness.

He stood by her bedside, watching the snoring girl with jaded interest. Despite the tear streaks on her inflamed cheeks and her sealed eyes displaying slight puffiness, she appeared to be sleeping as the phrase would entail, like a baby; a sleep uninterrupted and too refreshing to leave.

It was then, and only then when she was asleep, she exuded a glowing bright peaceful, heavenly aura. She was a sleeping beauty at that moment. Rays of golden morning light delicately caressed lovely features, short kinky obsidian shiny black hair coddled her feather pillow, and her delicate curves snuggled in the comfort of her sheets. It was certainly true that in those few brief lapse moments she may have looked like an angel. But when she awoke, every comparison died with it.

But he was hoping she would not yet wake, he turned away from her and resumed his exploration of her quarters he had only been shown just the day prior.

The quarters were massive, and it was a palace of luxury with its velvet carmen carpeted floors, intricately patterned walls, and expensive expertly crafted decors and furniture. There were various strategically placed couches, lounge chairs, and petite round tables that matched the deep pigmented shimmering color schemes. And from the glass windows, morning sunlight rushed in, working to illuminate the room's glamour and grandeur.

Despite the room's elegance, he was more focused on surveying the personal possessions of the room’s owner. He quietly pulled open dresser drawers, examined the makeshift trinkets and objects on her vanity desk, and flipped through incomplete diary entries poorly hidden in garter and stocking drawers.

His eyes probed and combed through every inch of her belongings and every corner of the floorboards and walls before his scrutinizing sight landed on one inconspicuous bloated leather satchel bag. It sat atop the bed chest that was positioned at the foot of her bed. Deep dark bold words in proud capitalization were stamped onto the bag; MAIDS, BUTLERS, AND ALL SERVICE DOLTS ALIKE DON'T TOUCH UNLESS REQUESTED.

He looked back at her. She was bundled up in her covers muttering nothings in her sleep, so his attention landed back to the large satchel.

"How could I not accept such an invite?" he murmured to himself, striding to the foot of the bed.

It took little effort before he untied the complicated knots on the satchel handles, opening it to find a mass of letters stuffed inside. Hundreds and hundreds of them were ready to explode from the bag. Some of them were in pristine condition while others were crinkled, crumpled, and worn. He carefully and quietly plucked one out. Slowly, he read disorderly, sort of blotchy, and bold lettering and cursive words.

'Dear Saby,

It's me again. You know, Erin, your niece that you most certainly haven't forgotten about, right? I'm writing to you because I was wondering how you were doing? Are you well? Are you unwell? I would know if you penned me back any time soon. I'm worried about you. I've asked Davyid and Anya if they received anything from you, but they tell me the same thing. You how much that worries me---worries all of us. Please write back soon. I miss you.'

He picked up another letter.

'Dear Saby,

Nier---that grand arse, wrote back to me. He says that you are unwell. He asked me not to write to you, and he said that you don’t want to left alone right now. Is this true? Please, if this reaches you, write back to me soon.'

He read through the letters without swift precision before moving onto the next.

'Dear Sabina,

I will be leaving soon for a short time and I have tried visiting you again, but they only say the same thing. Please, what is this about? You no longer write to me? You no longer see me? I worry so much about you and yet it’s like you’ve just disappeared. Please, write to me. You have to because I cannot do with the uncertainty, it hurts me more than you know. I’m so worried about you. Tell me you're alright. Write back, soon, although I’m not sure I will be able to reply as I earned the ire of Davyid again. Wherever he’s sending me it’s awfully far, and awfully secluded. I don’t have much time before I go, and I need you to write me. Please, I know I may have said some harsh things on that night, but you were scaring me. I realize now I shouldn’t have let fear take me over. I really am sorry about that time, and I know you may not fully forgive me, but I promise you, I will never ever doubt you again. Write back to me soon, please.'

He found another letter, and recognized the familiar crumple to it from last night. It was the same letter Lord Sutherton had thrown to Erin before she took it fled.

‘Dear Daviyd and Anya,

I am well. Do not worry. I do not wish to see anyone. I am staying at a retreat away from the capital.

Do not let Erin see this other page.

To be clear, I do not want to see her, nor do I want to speak to her. I would like to be left alone. Please ensure she does not bother me. I know she will worry, but this is how it shall be. I need time.

Goodbye.’

The sound of rustling interrupted his reading.

Erin rolled onto her side, rising slowly from her rest like the undead raising from the grave. Her eyes fluttered open and she yawned to life. Groggy, she sprouted her arms up and stretched out like a cat. Turning to her bedside stand, she leaned over the waterbin and splashed water on her face. Patting her cheeks with a bedside cloth, she tried to shake off the drowsy pinch of sleep weighing on her fluttering eyes.

Groaning and cracking her neck, she forced herself out of her bed. She only made it a few seconds on weary legs before she plopped back down to her bed. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tiredly reached for the water cup on the bedside stand. After a few gulps, she sat the cup back down and sharply exhaled.

"Heaven’s mercy,” she said, touching her puffy cheek. “It still hurts.” She stood from her bed, wincing.

Sighing, she opened her bedside drawer plucking out a quill and paper. Drawer still opened wide, she bent down inspecting for an ink pot.

“Ink…ink…ink.” she muttered, pushing aside loose paper and ink blots. “Where did I put the ink?” Shutting the top drawer closed, she took a step back with a huff. Placing her hands on her hips, she rotated around. “Where is my ink---bloody bumbling blight!” She jolted at the sight of the stranger in her room. Her back thrust into the drawers, quill and paper hitting the floor. Shock numbed her.

“Good morning.” Ezra smiled. “Have you tried checking the bottom drawer, they say a forgetful mind always leaves it nearby. Or it could be---Oh?” He inspected her. “It seems your left cheek still appears tender and your eyes hint of irritation and puffiness. It’s my understanding that a night of heavy crying can cause dryness that can affect your eyes and sustaining physical injuries, even if only to the face, can cause emotional distress. Are you not feeling well? I can seek out the health aids to tend to you this morning.”

“Night of crying? Who says that I was crying?”

“Were you not?”

"It’s irrelevant." She defensively folded her arms over her chest, suppressing the emotions that pricked her chest.

“I've brought the healing skin balm. Would you like me to request your handmaid to apply it?" He suddenly revealed a small jar container in his grip.

Irritation burned in her snarl. “Never mind that!” She paced over to him, snatching the jar and chucking it to the side. “What are you doing in here?”

“Your parents have just recently departed. Your mother personally requested that I let you know. I also have a letter that your mother requested I give---.”

“---I don’t get it,” she said, cutting him off. The grip of surprise and annoyance gradually released her as she stared incredulously at him. “Are you lost again, dullard?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“You are clearly lost.” She scoffed. “You should have waited by the doors until I awoken, not haphazardly make your way inside of a room you were not requested to come in to!”

“You are absolutely correct, my lady, and I would not have if I hadn’t heard noises through the door. I needed to confirm your safety.”

“Noises?” Her eyes scrunched and the corner of her lips tugged into a sneer.

“You talk in your sleep, my lady.”

Embarrassment momentarily appeared in her warming cheeks. “I don’t talk in my sleep.”

“I’m certain I heard mutterings.”

“I don’t talk in my sleep,” she firmly pressed. “Anyone who has the least bit of brain would know that.” She locked an iron gaze on him.

In response, he smiled again. “Well, I have a letter that your mother requested that I give to---.”

She cut him off again, speaking with curt speed. “My quarters are personal and I don't want to see your unpleasant face when I wake, so don’t you ever make the mistake of coming in here uninvited, clear?"

"I apologize, my lady. I am just so eager to serve your family in every way I can."

"Oh?” She unfolded her arms. “You’re eager to serve me?”

“To perform my duties as a Sutherton butler? Yes. Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Ah, alas, it is your first day.” She nodded in tune with her words, her demure shifting. “I understand now. You just wanted to make first day impressions, impressionable.” An unnaturally curved and sudden smile slithered onto her face.

“Yes.” His smile endured.

Light laughter came up her throat. “Of course, you do.” She sat down on her bedside and crossed her legs, examining him. “I suppose now would be a good time for me to lay the groundwork expectations I have for you.”

“Excited to hear it.” His voice sunk into monotony.

“Obviously, since my parents are away and I am bound to the house, I will be whom you can take direct Sutherton commands from. And, as the Young Miss of this residence, I have a few things I will need you as a caretaker of the Sutherton family to be cognizant of. Following me?” Her foot slightly bounced in jovial fashion against her crossed leg.

“Yes.”

“I will request you when I need you. Among your other responsibilities and duties, you will make me priority. If I request something, do it. If I don't request you, don't even think to bother me. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand, but forgive me, I have a question. I am noticing a trend of the word 'again'. May I assume yesterday night’s encounters may be ignored?”

She stopped the lively pep to her bouncing leg, glare inflaming. "Are you being smart with me?" she said, scowl imminent.

"Not at all. I was just curious, based on your prior behavior and comments, you seemed bent on being rid of me in an expedient fashion, and of course it is well within your reason to. Though, I would like to emphasize that however you think of me, I will prove my dedication to the Sutherton crest."

She stared at him once, lips pruning as she pondered once over a thought. Following that thought, wordlessly she stood from her bed sauntering towards her balcony doors.

“Come look at this look.” She beckoned him over. “You see this?” She gestured towards the glistening glass door.

He stood beside her. "What about your balcony doors?"

"Not the balcony doors.” She cut her side eye. “There was a storm a few days prior. I think some of the leaves were caught against the roof. The leaves are falling onto my balcony.”

“And what would you like me to do?”

“Don’t you think someone ought to fix that?”

“I see. I’ll have someone take care of it.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I need someone who wants to do it right, without any mistakes. You can handle that right?”

Momentarily, his brows faintly crunched together and the locked composure of his flat smile almost broke. “I see. I’ll take care of it.”

“Yes, you do that. Also, someone ought to give that roof a clean while they’re up there. I don’t want the dirt and grim getting onto my windows. Speaking of windows, I think they too could use another clean. Oh, but don’t assign that to the maids who did it last time. Whoever they were, those sloppy maids left a few spots. Also and also, that means I’ll need you to confirm that they were properly cleaned this time around."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"Yes." Her smile was liquid. "My slippers," she poutingly jeered, pointing at her bare feet.

"Your slippers?" He peered blankly at her. "What about your slippers?"

"I'm feeling in the mood for some new slippers. Those just don't do anymore." She pointed to perfect satin slippers neatly awaiting her by the bed. "I want some new ones. Preferably one of my winter ones because it's so cold."

“Alright."

"But there's a problem." She puckered her lips. "Last I recall, my winter shoes were packed away in my storage wardrobe. My storage wardrobe is the room downstairs with the 4 doors and all the boxes stacked to the ceiling?"

“It is?"

"Yes.” She smiled. “It might be a bit hard to find my winter sippers when everything's been packed away possibly unlabeled. You may have to unbox it all to find it."

"Unbox everything?" He craned his brow.

"And don't forget to box it all back up," she added, her twisted smile growing from ear to ear. "Also, just to be even, why don't you reorganize and make sure to label the things there? I'm thinking winter apparel should be neatly organized at the far right of the room, mid-winter apparel to the left, and so-on. I don’t need any of the lower maids getting confused where to storage my out-of-season accessories. You're getting me?"

His smile was unchanged. "If you’d like me to be. Anything else?"

"Anything, else?" she regurgitated his words with a contemplative hum. "Hmm, I think we'll have to see. Now, hurry along. I don't like waiting." She happily waved him away with a wag of her wrist.

"Understood." He folded his hands behind his back. The soft reserved smile plastered on his face didn't budge but there was an unreadable look in his eyes brewing. "I'll do as you wish, my lady."

"Ah-ah-ah," she mockingly tutted. "You should be saying as I want because wishes are promises but what I want is a must."

“Ha.” He tautly laughed. “You are exact in your rhetoric.”

“I know I am.”

“Right, you are,” he coarsely replied. “Right you are.”

Click!

The moment he left; her smirk shrunk.

She paced back over to her bedside, and noticed Sabina’s crumpled letter on her bed chest. She picked it up, trying to remember if she left it out.

‘I do not want to see her, nor do I want to speak to her.’

The words from the letter pierced her chest. Left alone? Needed time? What did that even mean? She wondered, clutching the worn paper. No matter how many times she read it, the truth would not reveal itself, and maybe that’s the way Sabina wanted it.

She slightly crumpled the letter, looking up to peer distantly.

No matter how Sabina wanted it. It hurt. So? Why not make someone else suffer for it?