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"Jane," calls Mrs. Thompson, the head housekeeper, "take these linens to the east wing, please." I nod and gather the freshly laundered linens onto a tray, the soft fabric smelling of lavender and sunshine. With every step through the familiar corridors, I can't help but feel a sense of pride in my role here, even if it seems insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
As I walk through the castle, I find myself wandering down a hallway I've never seen before. Perhaps I took a wrong turn somewhere, or maybe my curiosity is getting the better of me today. Regardless, there's something alluring about this part of the castle, as if it's been forgotten by everyone except for me.
The dim light from the flickering candles on the walls casts shadows that dance and sway, pulling me further in. The air is cooler here, and the sound of my footsteps echo against the stone floor. I clutch the tray of linens closer to my chest, feeling my heart race with excitement and apprehension.
As I reach the end of the hidden corridor, I find myself in a place that seems worlds away from the bustling castle. It is an enchanting secret garden, with lush ivy creeping up the stone walls and fragrant flowers spilling over onto the cobblestone path.
The air here is thick with the scent of jasmine and roses, heady and intoxicating. The sun casts dappled shadows through the leaves above, creating a sense of mystery and secrecy. I can't help but feel like I've stumbled upon a sacred space, hidden from the prying eyes of the world.
My heart hammers in my chest as I take in the beauty around me, my fingers trailing along the dew-kissed petals of a nearby flower. The linens on my tray seem to grow heavier, but I hardly notice, lost in my thoughts.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
I jolt at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping the tray as I turn to face him. A man stands there, tall and broad-shouldered, with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes that burn with an intensity I've never seen before. His gaze rakes over me, sending shivers down my spine and making my heart race even faster.
"Y-yes," I stammer, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. "It's lovely."
"Sorry for startling you," he says, studying me with those striking eyes. "You must be one of the maids."
"Uh-huh," I nod, wishing I could say something more eloquent, but I'm too captivated by his presence to manage anything else.
"Your work here is appreciated," he tells me, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile. "You keep the castle looking beautiful."
"Thank you, sir," I reply, my voice barely a whisper. I don’t know who he is, but he commands an air of authority, so I assume he must be higher up in the ranks than I am. My hands tremble as I clutch the tray, and his gaze lingers on my fingers, making me all the more flustered.
"Allow me," he says, stepping closer and relieving me of the tray. Our fingers brush ever so slightly, and a jolt of electricity surges through me at his touch. I can't help but stare at him in wonder, my breathing growing shallow.
"Who are you?" I ask, feeling bold enough to satisfy my curiosity.
"Someone who likes to escape from the world every now and then," he replies cryptically, his eyes locked on mine, filled with an intensity that leaves me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
"Escape?" My mind races, trying to make sense of his enigmatic words. "From what?"
"From everything," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. "But mostly from myself."
"Yourself?" I echo, unable to tear my gaze away from his. The connection between us is palpable, charged with an energy I can't begin to understand.
"Sometimes, we need a place to hide from our thoughts, our desires...our darkness." He steps closer still, the air thick with tension. "Don't you agree…?" He raises a questioning eyebrow at me, and I supply my name.
“Jane,” he repeats, his eyes raking over me again, the look in them inscrutable, yet it somehow still makes me blush.
My breath catches in my throat as he utters my name. I nod, unable to speak, lost in the depths of his piercing blue eyes.
"Enjoy the garden, Jane," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "And don't let anyone else discover our secret."
With that, he hands the tray back to me and turns to leave, disappearing down the corridor as suddenly as he had appeared. As I stand there, clutching the linens to my chest, I feel a strange mix of confusion and curiosity, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
Who was he? And what did he mean by "our" secret?
CHAPTER
FOUR
Henry
The moonlight bathes my room in a soft, seductive glow as I sit on the edge of my bed, unable to shake the image of Jane from my mind. Her auburn hair, her innocent eyes—she's an enchanting vision that sends shivers down my spine. I can't help but touch myself as I recall our first encounter in the garden.
Her sweet voice echoes in my ears, the way she looked up at me with those captivating green eyes, so full of wonder and innocence. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to look at me like that. My hand moves faster, my breathing heavy and erratic, as I imagine her slender fingers brushing against my skin.
