I'm Sorry, Teresa

My mouth was partly open, words struggling to come out. I wrinkled my eyebrows, and I ceased struggling against Teresa. "You think...you think I'll hurt Allen?" I questioned her. My bitter facial expression slowly shifted into despondency. My heart felt crushed into smithereens, grounded into powder, and tossed into an ocean to float away.

So she just took all of my recent generosity as some phase? When will she stop believing I'll harm someone? What can I do when I live around a bunch of lunatics who assume I'm about to murder when I approach them or another person?

"Ah, my lady…" Teresa started, but I cut her off by walking away from the estate's entrance.

That's fine then. If everyone believes I'm going to hurt others, I should find somewhere else to live. If I sell what I'm wearing now, I'll be able to afford a modest house and still have a portion of the money to sustain my living on. Huh. Wealth and lavishness at the cost of my sanity. No, thanks!

Teresa rushed after me and grabbed me. "My Lady, I didn't mean it that way. I just didn't want what happened between you and Allen to happen again. Please, believe me. It's the last thing I want to happen."

I slackened the tenseness in my shoulders, letting them hang low. By now, it was late evening. The sun had drifted beneath the horizon already, and the moon glowered softly. Clouds masked the crescent, but its shining light shone through. All I wished for was a warm rinse, and some dearly needed sleep. My legs were more than exhausted. The heels have been digging into my feet for the past few hours. I just wanted to tear them off and finally rest, my mind at ease, and the coolness from the windows breezing around the space.

A week. It's only been a week. This is insane.

"I'm sorry too. I'm a selfish person at heart, and you know it better than I do," I admitted, grabbing a crop of my wavy hair in aggravation. "I hate this feeling that just keeps telling me that I'm wrong. I always give in to what it says."

On days where I had a dull schedule, I hated the life I led. Nothing could distract me from the hollowness in my chest. It was as if the world had paused its clockwork and started rewinding back. You would begin to reminisce about what fond memories you had. Without noticing it, you'd commence the stages of despair. This burning sensation in your throat arose, and your mind would sink deeper into its remorseful oblivion.

Everyone has that moment where you despise whatever choices you make and whatever you said to someone. It's that moment when you turn to look at yourself in a mirror and think, "What a mess."

The door to the estate didn't open again that night. I couldn't help the looming sense of abandonment from a family that I didn't belong to.

Teresa went ahead and made arrangements with one of the nearby inns. We had a few inns decline our request to stay, and each time they did, I watched as her soul gradually disappeared from her eyes. It's as if her pride crumbles over and over whenever we're rejected.

"Could we rent a room for a few nights of stay?" Teresa would ask as sweetly as she could.

Their response was usually monotone or disgusted. The innkeepers failed to refrain from showing their clear disdain for us.

"For her? No, we will not provide our rooms for Lady Carabell. Last time we did, she destroyed one of our rooms."

"B-but..." Teresa stuttered, trying to find a reason why we should stay. After noticing how much she was struggling, I motioned for us to leave.

I didn't only realize Elisabeth was infamously known throughout Whitensen as a malicious noble lady, I realized how much the everyday people detest the mention of her.

How awful.

I flopped on the bed. The place was pricey, with a sizable bath and some prepared snacks that I avoided tasting. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls, but I couldn't help but think that if someone were struggling, they'd steal all of them and sell them for revenue.

It wasn't a terrible idea. I would do that. If masquerading as Elisabeth doesn't work out, I know I have my options.

The walls were a deep red that reminded me of the color of scarlet wine. Teresa had booked a separate room from me, so it was complete silence that submerged me into the depths of my thoughts. After tossing and turning for an excruciating hour, I rose up from the meticulously arranged bed, crawling out to sit at the small wooden desk that was across from it.

The innkeeper provided us with a fresh change of sleepwear, some slippers, and a nightcap. We sported the silky nightgowns as we had no other clothes. I didn't complain, I felt so much better after crawling out of that stuffy golden gown. At the desk, there was a pen with some dipping ink and sheets of paper. I wanted to write something, to purge my mind of all its negative thoughts, but the writing fuel within me was depleted until its last drop. As I was about to touch the pen to the paper, I heard a thump come from next door.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Teresa? What was she doing that was making all this racket?

I started walking towards the wall to find the source of the noise. It seemed like my maid was trying to lug some weight around. My mind was astonishingly alert and immensely bored, so I slipped on the inn's supplied slippers and chose to leave my room. The hallway was dim, with a few lit sconces running down each side of it. Staring at them brought back unpleasant memories that crept into my mind and made my heart begin to race with anxiety.

Fire. The burning sensation. That frightening hot scalding.

I shook my head and walked over to Teresa's room next door. I knocked a few times. The noises in there paused. I could hear her light footsteps increase in volume as she approached the door from the other side. The moment she rotated the knob and the door creaked open, she took a step back.

"My Lady! Why are you still awake?" she questioned me. Teresa was wearing the same silky nightgown as I was, and her hair was put into a single braid that trailed behind her. In her hands was a spool of rosy pink thread. "Ah, was I being too noisy? I apologize. I was searching for my sewing tools."

"No, no, I was just curious as to what you were doing in the middle of the night," I answered, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "Was having a little trouble sleeping after today's events."

She stepped aside for me to see inside her room. It was scarcely lit, there was a single long candle illuminating the area. "Come in, my lady. I am making you a light dress so you can attend your classes at the academy with something suitable for a noble lady. This will only be for tomorrow."

Immediately, I thought that her definition of "suitable for a noble lady" was much different from mine. However, when I made myself comfortable on the edge of her bed, I saw that she was making a beautiful lace pattern over a few layers of fabric.

"That's amazing," I complimented her, and she spread an unnatural smile across her face.

I ran my fingers over the stitching. Each one of Teresa's sewing movements was excellently executed at a rapid rate. She weaved and tied thread so briskly that I couldn't keep up with how exactly she did it. I watched dumbfoundedly at her exceptional hand sewing skill.

A question came across me. "Where did you find all this?"

"The innkeeper's son is a tailor. He let me take some of his materials if I gave him the shoes I wore for the debutante," Teresa informed me, paying no mind to it.

"Ah, I see."

Wait, what would a man do with heels? Is he a crossdresser?

Again, I wanted to slap myself.

How likely would it be for a man to share the same shoe size as Teresa? I mean, the shoes are also worth plenty of gold. Perhaps, he's planning on selling it. Ah nevermind, it's his now. He can do whatever it wants with them. Oh! Maybe I could ask Teresa to make the dress design to my taste.

"Could you make the sleeves with all lace and shaped in a bishop style?" She nodded, and I resumed when she didn't complain about the request. "Then, for the bodice, you could keep it simple and make the skirt ruffled with the same lace as the sleeves." Teresa quickly caught on to my suggestions and replicated them with the best of her extraordinary ability.

I strove to assist her with some of the most straightforward portions of the stitching, so I could feel less of a foreboding nuisance when sitting beside her. The sewing made my mind feel more relaxed, and I noticed that Teresa seemed fairly contented with all the stitching and cutting fabric.

"Do you like making dresses?" I asked her tenderly, doing my best to ensure that I'm not staring at her excessively. I was overly sensitive to her feelings by now. "You're a natural at this." Her smile vanished from her face, and she promptly laid down the section of the sleeve she was diligently working on. I took a risky glimpse at Teresa and observed how she gave a quiet sigh.

"It's the most pleasurable aspect of my job as your long-time maid, my lady. I have sewn many of your dresses since the day you were born. Of course, you had received many gifts throughout your life, but whatever you requested, I created. At those times, you were the happiest little girl. I would do anything to make sure you were in an agreeable mood…" Teresa abruptly stopped speaking. I looked up to see why she did.

She had her hands cupped around her face, which was tilted down as if she was ashamed. The moonlight shone on her, making her raven braid glisten. A little droplet of a tear fell down to the dress's newly stitched lace. Breathy sobs escaped her lips. Instead of recognizing her as a hardworking maid, she resembled a vulnerable, tender woman suffering from the excruciating agony of grief. I despairingly yearned to comfort her, but I didn't know what I could do. I lacked the ability to know what to mention when others are suffering.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, my lady." She continued to weep, her hands trembling, and her eyes squeezed shut. "I've failed as your right-hand maid." As soon as she removed the contact from her face and hands, she clenched the uncut fabric. She hesitantly parted her eyes and gazed away from me.

"Teresa…" Although I haven't known this woman as long as the previous Elisabeth had, I could tell that this was the first time she had confessed anything remotely like this. If the original Elisabeth were here instead of me, would she dare to mention this?

"My Lady, I want to apologize, so let me apologize. As unruly as this sounds as your inferior, I have spoiled you without any discipline. Now, when we go outside, others refuse to look your way with respect." She loosened her grip on the cloth and pushed it aside. "I have not only failed you, but I have failed the duke and the duchess. I thought, as the maid of the daughter of a duke, I could live luxuriously, but I was wrong. I was there to pay a debt I had to the Carabells, how could I be so vain to think I could exist right beside you in peace?"

I wanted to ask her about the debt that she mentioned. However, I couldn't bring myself to do that after she told me this. She took a peek at me and then averted her gaze. An awkward silence filled the room.

At last, all I could think of saying was: "I'm sorry, Teresa."

What other stupid thing could I think of saying?