•••2. Thê Twô Pôlês•••

"Young Miss! Please sit still! I still have to finish your makeup!" The red haired maid pleaded her young mistress as the latter kept on squirming in her seat for quite awhile.

"Mary, this corset is choking me! How can I sit still?" The previously addressed young miss moaned in pain. "Do I have to wear it? Or better, can I not go at all?"

The maid, Mary sighed. Her mistress is indeed an odd one. Girls of her age already try to find groom for themselves, they try to make themselves appear perfect to obtain a proposal from the rich, established bachelor young men. But here is her mistress, who neither likes to doll up herself nor has any headache of getting married! Rather her behaviour often feels like that of a commoner. Its not like she didn't receive the etiquette classes from reputed governesses but even if she appeared as perfect lady in front of them leaving them without any complaints, yet she didn't behave as she was taught. Even Mary feels uncomfortable sometimes that she's never treated as a servant but something more than that.

"Mistress, you are a noble lady. Soon, you'll get married to a reputed family—"

"—and I must behave as a noble lady, right?" the sarcastic one turned around and quirked her eyebrow at the interrupted one who was fumbling for words at the moment.

"N—no no that's not—um—I actually—"

The mistress however, smiled and decided to end the joke since the servant is getting all nervous to justify herself and gripping the poor powder puff tightly.

The young miss chuckled and turned back to the mirror of the dressing table, closed her eyes and allowed her maid to complete the unfinished job.

A dull eyed figure winced as he opened the door of the stables and his eyes almost got blinded due to the bright sunlight. After some time he opened his dull pools and in front of him stood the very structure that had always dreaded him, tormented his very existence for 20 years. He turned around, shuffled some more inside the shack, which is a sorry excuse of a servants quarter and exited from there with a sling on his shoulders. Today he'll be going to the market to order grains for the horses. The winter is near, grasses won't be available anymore so he has to feed grains to the horses.

"What? The S&S boutique is closed! How am I supposed to buy the dress that I ordered for the tea party?" A sophisticated looking woman yelled at the poor coachman who was relentlessly verbally attacked by his mistress as she poured out her anger on him. His only fault was to deliver the news of boutique closure to his mistress.

"Oh this is terrible!" she exclaimed.

The other girl who was sitting in the carriage simply rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her mother as the latter vented her frustrations on the poor coachman from inside the carriage. The victim simply stood with his head bowed, silently enduring his mistress' abuse.

Several passer-by simply looked on at the drama unfolding itself in the middle of the market. Although the yelling attracted attention, however it failed to disturb a busy figure's attention.

Unable to bear the lady's rant; the younger passenger of the carriage spoke up; "What's the use of crying over spilled milk, mother?"

"Isleen! At least you of all people should understand my misery! Your mother's reputation is going to be tarnished today!" The older lady huffed in annoyance for the other speaker, that is, her daughter Isleen Liberine didn't show much emotion at this but gestured the victimized coachman to go back to his duty, which the guy did. She was calm, cold and cool at everything. Its not that the Duchess of Liberine was complaining about it, a capable lady must carry herself with dignity. But sometimes it feels as if Isleen deliberately restricts herself from showing any kind of emotions to her parents at all! The Duchess fell into deep thought after the carriage started its return journey and somewhere in between her worry of what to wear at the tea party which she was supposed to attend this evening, she noticed that her daughter hasn't uttered another word after she had asked the former to restrain herself. But then again, Isleen was always an unusual quiet girl around her parents, especially around her mother. She behaved completely unbothered at everything except for her weird, un-lady like actions. Even if Isa is her mother, she couldn't figure out her daughter at all!

Isleen, on the other hand, was quiet because she wanted to do nothing but get out of the tight corset that is digging on her skin. Her heart yearned for the loved ones that she has left behind in the Duchy, she couldn't visit them in the morning because of her mother!

The busy figure did stop when he felt a sense of deja vū after nearly crossing the carriage that attracted the almost entire marketplace's attention. He stopped for a minute or two to look back that gave him the sensation only to find a retreating carriage's back. He shrugged and continued with his speed walking towards the shop that sold grains.

During midday he walked down the weary path towards the stables and was startled when he almost collided with a maid who was carrying expensive cutlery sets. He quickly rescued both the precious cutlery set and the maid from falling down. The maid quickly straightened herself, took the rescued thing from his rescuer, bowed and swiftly scampered away to the tormentable structure that is the Heathenne mansion.

In the parlour of the mansion, a woman whose face was caked with make up, surfed some portraits that were presented to her by one of the employees of her husband. After looking at the last portrait, she placed it on the expensive ivory centre table and quietly sipped her afternoon tea. The employee sweated bullets as, if the woman in front of him doesn't choose a single portrait out of fifty portraits presented to her, it'll be his last day in her husband's office.

The woman took her sweet time in drinking her tea without taking into consideration the poor man's nervousness and she spoke in her shrill voice to the employee after she picked up a single portrait out of fifty of it; "Mr. Los I am afraid—" The addressed man immediately paled but she paid no heed as she continued. "—that you will continue to work in my husband's office since I have found a likable portrait." Mr. Los felt like crying after hearing this.

There was a knock at the door and when it opened, it revealed the a handsome blonde youth who was the young master, the heir of the Heathenne county. He was summoned by his mother for an audience in the parlour. After he sat down, the assisting maids immediately served him with tea. The young man received the chosen portrait from his mother.

Immediately his eyes widened because in front of him was the portrait of an absolute beauty. She was fair, has piercing brown eyes, her raven locks cascaded down her back and with a button nose accompanied by rosy hued full lips, she took his breath away.

His mother's eyes was fixated on him as she relished her son's reactions. Her suggestion of looking at portraits was completely ignored as he stared at the pictoral representation of the unearthly nymph like beauty.

At last he spoke; "No mother, I'd like to marry her."

"I'm happy that you're well now Louie." whispered a raven haired woman as a grateful puppy energetically licked her face. Her other pets, each of whom she had rescued from perils snuggled up to their rescuer, as she tends to visit them once in a while. Though another kind human is responsible for their food, they prefer their god over her. The 'god' looked at her rescued ones with kindness, the rescued ones apparently consists of a spotted puppy who is currently loving to be spoiled by its mistress on her lap, an adult cat, a dog and two birds. 

The little puppy had fallen down the valley by the time it was rescued by his current 'god' on her adventurous walk through the woods behind her mansion. The adult cat was bleeding terribly as it was beaten for the crime of stealing food from a commoner's house-it was around last year's winter; if it hadn't been for the caring lady, it would've died on that cold winter night. The grown up dog was almost beaten to death by the head maid of her rescuer's residence for unknowingly entering the estate, somehow tricking the sentries at gate-it was only because of the dark haired lady that she was saved. The two birds, though they don't always live near the small shelter that the kind human had set up for the four legged ones; however, one can see those two perched up on a nearby tree whenever their helper visited the shelter; as had it not for her they'd have lost their chick in that crazy storm two years ago.

The sky was gradually turning from orange to purple, signalling the incoming dusk and the dark night. The crouched girl huffed because whenever she's with her pets, time seems to fly away. Soon she'd have to return to her residence which is a five minute walk from this animal shelter. Holding the puppy in one hand, she checked the shelter once again to see if the little shade made of bamboo, woods and straw need any kind to extra support to shelter the homeless animals. Upon getting positive result, she let down the spoiled one on the ground who whimpered but skipped inside the shade. The puppy needs nourishment to grow up, she'd have to tell her maid to increase the level of the little ones' food.

Now she must return, else the Duchess of Liberine would be angry at her.