RedBedSheets

Isabelle wanted freedom. For herself and for her sister, but when the duke falls ill everything starts to change.

She finds herself walking towards a dangerous relationship with the heir to the dukedom and her tormentor. 

“You really think you can leave me? After all this time? I think not”, a smirk that looked so cruel and made my insides feel utterly helpless appeared across his face.

“What if I pay you?” I said after a moment of silence. Hoping I still had chance.

He laughed at my words. A cold and humourless laugh.

“You couldn’t afford the price I’ve put on your head in this lifetime or the next”, I felt the futility beating me down, but I stayed strong. I was trained to deal with such emotions.

“How much”, my lips quivered ever so slightly, betraying the confidence I tried to ooze, yet failing so miserably.

“1 trillion”.

Isabelle and her sister Angela had only known the Gold dukedom growing up. Their mother had worked there and when she passed the girls became the dukedom's legal property and were also raised as maids. The duchess, a close friend of their mother, showered them with affection and allowed them to be sort of pen pals for her young son.

But when she had passed, the girls were left at the duke's mercy and he disliked their relationship with his son and so forbade them from ever speaking to him. From then on, the two made it their goal to escape the dukedom however, life had other plans.

Warning: This is a dark-themed yandere love story. Read at your own risk.

Completed

The Duke’s Beloved Pawn

There was no way I could deny him, but....


I stared at the wrinkled peeling skin of my hands. The burned bits had basically rubbed off and it was raw in some places. It was painful and felt very very raw, and it was in no way a pair of hands that could give a satisfying massage, but he knew that well.


His beautiful eyes stared at my hands with a smirk. He was happy with himself. Very happy.


"Hurry up", he snapped turning away from me and tossing his hair back.


I walked behind him. Concealing the sigh that threatened me. That could cost me everything. That would cost me a loss too great to suffer.


I reached for the wide shoulders, surprised when he flinched, but not faltering in my steadiness. If he wanted a massage, he would get a massage.


I placed each hand on his shoulder, pressing my palms into his shoulder muscles. I almost stopped when I heard a sigh escape him. Almost. I carried on, massaging his back. Just as I was told. Just as I learned.


My skin hurt. It screamed at me to stop torturing it already, but I carried on. Despite how strange and... bad it felt. If someone walked in on this scene I knew I would probably jump back in embarrassment. 


I moved my hands to his neck, deciding to move up to his head. Maybe it would help calm him.


Suddenly a loud gasp escaped him. My body froze in fear. I pulled my hands away from his ear lobes in surprise.


"S-Stop it", I almost missed the whisper. It was almost like he was pleading me yet... threatening me all the same?


"Young master?" I wanted to make sure I heard this properly.


"You heard me. Stop it", he hissed at me, he didn't turn to me once and seemed to turn his face away when I tried to catch a glimpse of him. 


Okay... this wasn't the usual behaviour... usually he would've pulled my hair or... no let's not dwell on the matter.


"Well then, if you'll excuse me", and I wheeled the barrel away. This time uninterrupted.


But for some reason, the image of his red ears seemed to burn in my mind. It had been years since I last seen a speck of innocence on him. He would barely cover himself with a robe properly and he didn't hesitate to command me to help him undress even if, given our age difference, it was slightly inappropriate, although no one did seem to comment on it. 


No! He wasn't that kid anymore! He's tortured you! 


But as I barrelled away as fast as I could, the thoughts of those hot summer days with the duchess and the young master, myself and my sister, all laughing about silly things the young master and Angela would talk about. How Angela would scream at the sight of a butterfly and the young master and I would tease her.


The duchess who told me time and time again how I resembled my father. Her eyes filled with such love and fondness I couldn't help but wonder who my dad was to her. What he was.


But I wouldn't ever know. Because she would pass soon and leave us. The once joyful workplace would be dark and suffocating. The smiles would be forced. The air, ...suffocating.


I felt hot, burning liquid slip down my face before I realised it. 


'A maid doesn't allow personal feelings to interfere with her work'.


I wiped them away and plastered on the same cheery fake smile, marching away to the laundry room to iron the clothes. 


Chapter 4