Who Am I
Anyways, that hot-tempered girl came at just the right time. Otherwise I'd had to take some rather forceful measures to explain myself.
The interior was very pleasing to the eye. In front of me was a hallway embellished by colorful stones that I didn't recognize.
The ceiling was unusually high and the walls were thick. What I especially like was the artistic choice on using the tinted windows to create a mirage of rainbows fluttering in the air.
"Agnes, is that you," someone suddenly asked.
It was a woman, leaning towards the slightly older side, who had uttered my name. Her original brown hair already began turning into a smoky grey. Her blueish eyes, even though cloudy, failed to conceal her surprise. With a slight hunch, she looked older than she actually was.
She wore a servants uniform and held onto a tray.
"Oh dear, it really is you. I see that you have returned," she said and stroked her chin.
"It's not like I have any choice," I answered.
"Nevertheless, I thought you wouldn't want to come back," she tilted his head, "this isn't a place for you after all."
I somehow didn't feel welcomed. Like everyone here was out to get me. From the upper echelon, down to the bottom barrel.
"Don't you think that you are being a tad bit rude here?"
"Wait, I think you got it wrong. Don't you remember? it's you who said this a long time ago," the woman shook her hands.
"Did I, I can't really tell," I closed my eyes, pretending to think.
Maybe that servant did not harbor any ill intent. It was just due to every person in this household being so toxic, that I had mistaken it for slander.
The woman clutched her wrinkled clothes, with a raspy voice she told me, "I once overheard you say, since you do not have a home, it didn't really matter where you went."
"Oh, did I really? But more than anything, were you eavesdropping?" I chuckled, I really couldn't imagine the original body communicating with anyone.
She suddenly went on one knee, and lowered her head.
"forgive my impudence, it's just a long time ago, I had walked past your room when I heard you whisper it."
"No, no. More than anything, I find it quite interesting. Do you recall anything else that I have said?"
"I must apologize, I was merely acting on a whim when I said what I just said."
"Raise your head," I told her. As she did that, I stared her in the face, "tell me a bit more about me when there's time."
She didn't answer me, instead she kept looking at me in wonder.
Feeling a bit weirded out, I asked her, "is there anything wrong?"
She snapped out of her trance and mumbled, "ah, no, I was only a little surprised. That is the first time that you had looked me in my face. It seems that you have grown a bit on your journey."
Well, it looked like I was wrong. Not everyone here hated me after all.
A gentle smile appeared on her face, "I hope one day that you can also tell me something about yourself," she uttered and with her head lowered, she went off.
Puzzled by the short exchange I only stood there as she walked away. Only when she had left my sight, did I decide to move around.
I was very interested in what kind of environment the original owner of this body grew up in. Thus I began walking around the estate and barged into different rooms.
The first room I went into was an entire wing of the building dedicated to cooking. It was right next to the dining hall and separated by a door.
Within the room was also an open pantry and a larder, where food and provisions was stored.
In the kitchen, many servants were shuffling around, with cooking utensils such as a pan, kettle or a pot. Some cooks had knifes and ladles in their hands, while their helpers held onto a mortar and a sieve.
The walls were stained a dark brown, as the accumulated fat and dusty air had changed its original color. Smoke could be seen at different places, some white, some grey, but never black. The sound of chopping and sizzling resounded through the whole place. The faint smell of roasted meat and the the odor of fat wafted in the air. It was as if I could taste the dishes that were being prepared.
The moment I went inside, someone from the bustling crowd approached me.
"Excuse me, I don't think I've seen you here before, how can I help you?"
"Right back at you, who are you?" I replied.
He was a plump man with a mustache wearing a typical servants outfit but it was adorned with an extra apron and hat.
"I am the chief baker, Aldwin, Pleased to meet you," he said and bowed.
"I am the Dukes granddaughter Agnes."
For whatever reason, he was very surprised to hear me say that and even his mustache shook a bit.
"You? Who would have thought that you'd ever come back."
"Oh, why?"
"I mean, after all that had occurred," he said and looked downcast.
Really, what happened before she left this household?
"Well, too bad. I've returned," I told him with a grin.
"I see, I see. I'm glad that you are," he squatted down so we could be at eye level, "to commemorate, would you like some bread?"
"Sure."
He rolled up his sleeves and revealed his brown tan.
"Good I will prepare some."
Immediately, he went to the pantry and rummaged through the shelves. After searching for a while, he came back with a loaf of bread.
In comparison to the flaky bread I ate while traveling. The one he brought was squishy and warm. I took a bite into the leavened bread, and immediately a sweet dairy taste filled my mouth. The crust was toasty and the crumb had a nutty flavor.
Unlike dark rye, the bread I ate was soft and fluffy.
I took another bite and the complex flavors assaulted my tastebuds.
"I'm sorry that I have nothing to serve the bread with, but I hope you still like it."
"It's pretty good, thanks," I tore some of the crust and stuffed it on my mouth, without swallowing first, I said, "I'm going to leave now, nice meeting you."
"Of course, take care," he replied and waved his hands.
With the white bread in my hands, I made my way towards the door.
Before I left, I was able to barely hear the baker mumble, "I'm sorry for everything," but when I turned around, he was already back to working.
I kept strolling around the estate in hopes of finding something notable. As I was staring at everything, I had met some servants that looked confused about my identity and some that were curious. I didn't meet anyone from my family, though.
The next room I went to was hidden behind a carved wooden door. When I entered, I saw many bookshelves adorned with different books. Although they weren't as big as the public libraries in my own world, it could still hold its own weight. The shelves were placed in a symmetrical pattern with ladders leading up to the higher spots making the books easily accessible.
Just like in the kitchen, another person had approached me.
The person was a male in his mid-twenties with long black hair reaching his waist and droopy eyelids. He was holding onto a book and wore white gown.
"How may I help you," he asked, "rather, who even are you?"
It would seem like nobody here remembered me and I'd have to introduce myself every time. What a chore.
"Agnes. Dukes granddaughter," I choppily replied.
He moved his head in a circle, causing it to crack. He let out a small groan.
"Oh, what a surprise," he said monotonously. Hearing him talk somehow made me feel sleepy.
"A lot of people are reacting that way today," I confided in him and sighed.
"That's 'cause if I remembered correctly, you were always coped in your room," he massaged his neck, "it's still easy for me to recognize you, though. Since you came here quite often when you were small."
"Sorry, but I don't remember who you are," I told him apologetically.
"No prob', it's been a while after all." Without showing any emotions he began dancing around, swirling left to right, until he came to a stop and held a peace sign up his head, "it's me, Dara the librarian."
Wow, he had a strong personality.
"I see. I think I have seen enough," I said, and promptly turned around.
"You are leaving already? What a shame, just when I thought we could talk about each other."
My left foot had already stepped through the door. I was just about to make it out completely, when he whispered, "have you still not forgiven everyone for what happened?"
I faced him again, only to see his hands cupped to his mouth pretending to shout. Like a true librarian he had kept his voice at an acceptable volume. He continued whispering, "I like your new hairstyle, it doesn't cover your face anymore."
I brushed my hair past my ear, "oh? Do you mind telling me more about that?"
"Sure, but how about you take a book first?"
"Ok, what would you recommend?"
"That depends on what you like."
"Anything's fine."
He made an ok-sign (did they really do such things in the medieval ages?) with his hand and began rummaging through the pile of books (was the meaning the same as it was in my own world?).
He came back with a thick book. The cover was red and depicted a knight holding onto his sword. The drawing-style was like those old tarot cards used for divination.
"This book is called
Uwah, he just gave something that really wasn't my style.
Rather, wasn't I collecting more and more stuff?
However, I still took it, because I felt like he'd insist on it.
"So, back to the topic, what exactly do you mean?"
"Oh, but I wasn't working here yet when it happened so maybe you should ask someone else," he replied and pretended to hit his head. I almost threw the book at his head, but felt that it was unwise to do that in a library. I planned to do it when he came out then.
"Seeing that you found a book now, I have fulfilled my job. Please leave now, I'm not good at dealing with people."
Thus he promptly closed the door. "Leave a review when you are done reading," I heard him say through the walls.
It looked like it was time for me to go somewhere else. Just like that I kept on exploring.