Chapter 11

When I was young, a birthday was something so special that I wouldn't sleep the night before. Whether it was my birthday or Angela's, mother would always have a treat for every time we came near the dinner table.

At breakfast we'd have an exotic fruit, lunch would be a desert made from cream and dinner was usually the actual gift. Since she was working we'd enjoy them with the servants, most of whom don't work here anymore, whether it was because they left or because they passed on.

The duchess would also have something for us. And though mother would refuse adamantly, the duchess would insist until refusing anymore would be rude. I still remember that necklace she gave me, the red jewel I had fallen in love with. How I said it looked similar to Cai- the young masters... eyes.

I still wore that. It was the last thing I received from her as she passed shortly after.

Even after mother had passed, the duchess took liberty to remember and honour our birthdays and she would give us the day off on mother's death anniversary.

It was only natural that after she also passed, nothing really mattered. The birthday I once looked forward to was just the day that marked another year of me being alive. Another year without the ones who loved and sheltered me.

Despite that, I did my best to make Angela have a good birthday and she did the same with me.

Which was why, when the afternoon came along and I realised the lazy Angela had done all of the work I had to do for today it suddenly clicked to me.

"Oh! It's my birthday..." I stared across the fields of hanging laundry. The ones I was supposed to spread out, but they were already hung up when I arrived.

Then I recalled the breakfast that was laid out for me when I arrived. I found it strange, but I guessed it was someone's leftovers and they might've felt so sick they hadn't taken a bite.

I smiled warmly at the thought of her running around to get everything ready. She must've been doing this after laying out the food. And now she must be sweeping the halls.

I was just about to head over there when Naomi interrupted me, "Isabelle! The master calls for you".

"The master?" I asked unsure of whether that was the duke or the young master.

She gave me an annoyed look and whispered to me harshly, "the duke is sick Isabelle, the young master is to take over his work so as of now we must call him the master".

I felt sick at the thought of the duke passing away and leaving his son in charge. It wasn't that he would be missed by me of all people, no, he treated me awfully horrible for no reason other than the fact that I was a slave. But the young master taking over... he was still mourning and...

"I'll head over to his room".

"No. He's in the dukes study".

That made me quiver.

The dukes study.

I hated that place with passion.

That was the place I had always left with my skin feeling raw. Whether the duchess was alive or dead, it hadn't mattered that the duke would beat me. He hated us. Although he wouldn't beat Angela at all, I assumed because she was young, he did threaten me that he would beat her if I didn't keep my mouth shut about being beaten.

Mother would notice right away.

She would silence me with tears of pain and tight hugs. But the duchess could never know. Otherwise, she would probably be so devastated that she might divorce and no woman should divorce and expect not to suffer by the whispers of society.

Either way, I hated that place.

I knocked on the door after minutes of agonisingly standing there, trying to will the strength to knock in my hands. My breath hitched as I heard his words.

"Come in".

With one last gulp I opened the door and there he stood. Leaning against his fathers desk with a smile. A small one. Minuscule. But it was a smile.

"Young master", I curtsied, keeping my gaze low as I continued, "you called for me".

"I did", he spoke as he walked behind the desk and took a seat. A lone chair sat before the desk and he gestured for me to take a seat.

"I mustn't. A maid does not"-

"Sit down". His words were not an offer, but a demand.

I sat down. Finding the situation almost unreal. A maid sitting at eye level with her master? Am I to die?

I felt a quiver in my fingers and for once I struggled to stay calm as he looked down at the desk, stamping papers as he sped through the pile on his desk.

"Give me your hand".

It was a another demand.

I slowly lifted my hand to the desk, holding it out towards him in absolute submission. But when I noticed his hand reaching for it I spoke without realising.

"You mustn't touch me. I'm dirty", I didn't realise how fast the words left my mouth until I felt him look up at me with furrowed brows and then he began to sneer.

"Nobody said you weren't", was all he said before dumping a booklet labelled 'Contract' on the top.

It was thin, but the cover of it frightened me.

The leather was so luxurious and the smoothness of it was unreal. For a moment I could only hold my breath as I realised exactly what I stared at.

"This- This a magic contract".