glint of warmth

It was late in the afternoon when Hazel was in the kitchen preparing lunch. The others had been assigned other task.

The rhythmic thwack of Hazel's knife against the cutting board filled the otherwise quiet kitchen.

A mountain of carrots lay before her, their vibrant orange a stark contrast to the wooden surface. She was on autopilot, her mind drifting to the incident that occurred in the garden.

Hazel sighed, pushing a stray strand of auburn hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist.

She was tired. The late nights spent scrubbing grime from the cavernous fireplaces and the early mornings preparing breakfast for the perpetually grumpy Mr. stern were starting to take their toll.

Her focus wavered for a split second, a flicker of fatigue causing her hand to slip.

A sharp, searing pain shot through her finger. Hazel gasped, dropping the knife with a clatter. A thin line of crimson welled up on her fingertip, quickly blossoming into a small, but insistent, bead of blood.

"Oh, shoot" she muttered under her breath, instinctively clamping her injured finger between her thumb and forefinger.

She rushed to the sink, turning the cold water on full blast.

The icy stream offered a small measure of relief, but the bleeding continued stubbornly. Hazel rummaged through the drawer for a clean cloth, her heart pounding a little faster. It wasn't a deep cut, but the sight of the blood made her uneasy.

As she was dabbing at the wound, she felt a presence in the kitchen across the doorway. Hazel turned around, her breath catching in her throat. Mr. stern stood there, his tall, imposing figure framed by the light from the hallway. His face was unreadable, a mask of his usual aloof indifference. He was dressed casually, as always.

"Clumsy," he remarked, his voice cold and devoid of any discernible emotion. He didn't move, just stood there, observing her with those piercing silver eyes that always made her feel so small and insignificant.

Hazel bit her lip, fighting back the urge to cry. "Mr. stern, do you need anything please" Hazel asked.

" you as well as all the stuff are under my care and protection, your safety is my concern. so avoid getting yourself into trouble." "plus I don't want blood in my food" he said looking at her finger.

"Just a small cut, sir," she mumbled, trying to keep her voice steady. She avoided his gaze, focusing on staunching the bleeding.

The cloth was quickly becoming stained with red.

Mr. Stern remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on her. Hazel could feel the weight of his disapproval, the unspoken criticism hanging heavy in the air. He made no move to help, no offer of assistance. He simply stood there, watching her struggle.

Finally, with a curt nod, he walked to the fridge, picked a bottle of water, then turned and walked away. The sound of his polished boots echoing down the hallway was the only indication he'd ever been there.

Hazel let out a shaky breath, the tension slowly draining from her shoulders.

She wrapped a clean bandage tightly around her finger, wincing slightly at the lingering pain.

Looking at the blood-stained carrot on the cutting board, she felt a wave of frustration wash over her. It wasn't just the cut. It was everything. The endless chores, the constant scrutiny, the unspoken contempt.

But what choice did she have? She needed this job. She needed the money to support her father's surgery. So, she took a deep breath, picked up the knife, and began chopping the carrots again, the thwack of the blade a counterpoint to the silent resentment simmering within her.

The crimson stain on the cutting board, however, served as a stark reminder of the price of her hard work.

dinner was ready and the ladies began to serve their master.... The dinning hall was quiet as a cemetery with only the sound of cutlery being heard.

Hazel lowered her head whiles serving. unbeknownst to her a familiar pair of silver eyes staring at her with his usual nonchalant eyes. But this this time.. a glint of warmth in them.. which quickly vanished the moment she raised her head to look at him. a gesture asking if she should proceed in in pouring a glass of wine.

"sir, may I please?"Hazel inquired

Mr stern nodded his head.

Days went by with Hazel doing her daily routine.. making breakfast, launch, dinner. serving Mr. stern, watering the Garden with much care of course. soon it was her day off and Hazel decided to visit her father.