House of Lamperouge

Chapter 2

Cage


Kallen gasped awake and found herself swathed in darkness. Panic rose from her throat. She did not know what place she was in, but when her fingers brushed against soft fabric, she realized she was in bed.

This is the servants' quarters. Kallen thought.

She counted seconds for her breathing to slow down. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. While lying on her back, she tried to recall the last few moments before losing consciousness. One thing she was sure of, she was not supposed to be in her room. She had never slept in her maid outfit and the fact that she was still wearing it proved she was somehow carried to her bed.

Memories of a dark room with a birdcage, a prick on her finger, and a voice speaking out to her invaded her mind in a fraction of time...

Kallen pushed herself up and swung her legs to the floor.

She took the gas lamp from the stand, went out to the hallway and into the kitchen. The fire was already burning low in the hearth. At the kitchen table, Sayoko was pouring over what Kallen could only presume to be account books. The lamplight cast a bronze glow on her serene face. The housekeeper must have heard the shuffling of feet, for she lifted up her head to look at the auburn-haired woman.

"Ah, Kallen. You are awake," Sayoko said with a smile and returned to the household accounts.

Without a word, Kallen took a seat at the table, setting down her own lamp.

"Do you want some supper?" Sayoko asked innocuously.

"Yes, that would be nice."

Sayoko paused from her work. Nothing in her visage belied that she considered the interruption a nuisance. Rather, she was very indulgent of Kallen. She rose to her feet and fixed the young woman a cold meal, upon the latter's insistence that the food did not need to be heated up. The two spent an easy companionship for the next few minutes until Kallen finished eating. After cleaning up, Kallen settled down again at the table.

"Mrs. Shinozaki…" Kallen began. Beneath the table, hidden from view, she fidgeted with her fingers.

"Hmm?" hummed Sayoko.

Kallen hesitated for a moment. She splayed her palms flat on the table to force herself to stop her nervous habit and pushed forth. "Did you find me passed out in a room?"

"I did not,"Sayoko denied–Kallen looked perplexed–"Mr. Gottwald did," the housekeeper finished.

Kallen listened on.

"Mr. Gottwald knew that room was locked, so it was unusual to find the door left open. You were lying on the floor. He brought you back to your quarters. You were unconscious, perhaps,for an hour. It is hard to tell. The room has been locked again as it should be. You need not mind cleaning it."

"I see." Kallen clasped her hands together on her lap, but stayed them from fidgeting. Between the butler and the housekeeper, Kallen found it easier to approach the housekeeper. Sayoko bore all her concerns and needs with a motherly patience. Kallen decided to seek answers from the Japanese woman.

"What was that room? I do not know if my eyes were fooling me, but there was a tall cage in it."

"It was real."

Kallen flicked her eyes towards Sayoko. She was prepared to hear a lie, but was not prepared for the truth. She was afraid to ask the next question, but she swallowed her fear and continued.

"If I may ask, what is inside the cage? I heard a voice–"

The tea kettle started whistling in the background, cutting off Kallen. Sayoko turned her attention to the stove. She turned the dial all the way clockwise and the flames sputtered out.

"Some tea to warm you up, Kallen?" offered Sayoko, the corner of her eyes crinkling.

"Y-yes please,"Kallen replied, disarmed by Sayoko's calm manner.

Sayoko poured the tea in a cup and placed it in front of Kallen. She went back to the task of balancing the household accounts, leaving Kallen no choice but to drink her tea in silence. She did not want to disturb the housekeeper any further.

Indeed, Kallen was amply warmed up by the time she drained her cup. She rinsed it out and replaced it in the cupboard. She made to take her leave but not before Sayoko spoke first.

"This house may have its many secrets. Nonetheless, I hope you will continue to stay."

Kallen blinked a few times, unsure how to respond. She could only nod in response. Bidding the Japanese housemaid a good night, she returned to her room.

Inside, Kallen put down the gas lamp on the stand. Something crossed her mind. She held her palms up to the light. Earlier, she did not feel any break in the skin on any of her fingertips. But now she saw it–a puncture, barely noticeable, on her right forefinger, like an injury from a needle prick, only slightly deeper. Moreover, there was a reddish spot where the prick was.

It was not a dream.


A few days have passed and Kallen was somehow able to put the memory of her strange encounter behind her. She avoided going to a certain part of the west wing. In the meantime, she devoted herself to the various duties of housemaid–wiping the windows and the picture frames, polishing the bronze tapers and the golden figurines in the hallway and parlors, waxing the parquet floors and scrubbing the vinyl ones, dusting the carpets and rugs, and every day, ingrained in her routine, she never neglected the master's library.

She did not mind the menial task of dusting books. Truth be told, she almost found it soothing. Had she not had been doing it daily, the bookshelves would take up much time dusting. But in all the days she spent there, not once did she have a chance meeting with the owner of the house. For a room that was claimed to be the master's favorite, it felt as if he hardly spent time in it. It was either the pen and other writing instruments on the desk were left untouched or he was just scrupulous in returning the objects in the exact same position she left them in. Yet the growing pile of unopened letters was strong evidence of his absence.

It was close to her third week of engagement. Kallen was cleaning the shelves of novel collections. She could not help but stop at a particular row of hardbound books that had velvet covers. She paid enough attention to the titles that Kallen had almost committed to memory the arrangement of books, but she never did take notice of these specific books. She pulled out a book at random. On the front, embossed in gold, was written the title, 'The Princess Downstairs by Rouge Lantin'.

Although Kallen was not the type to indulge in such literature, she was familiar enough with the popular authors of the genre. Rouge Lantin was well-known for her romance novels. Even Milly Ashford took an interest in reading them.

"You may borrow the book if you like."

A man's rough voice at her back caused Kallen to startle. She pivoted around to face the owner of the voice and caught herself staring into vivid purple eyes. For a moment, Kallen was a statue, forgetting how to breathe and blink eyes. Then, she broke out of her frozen trance.

"L-lord Lamperouge," She stammered. Who else could he be? Never mind that she did not hear his footsteps at all.

The man smiled charmingly.

"I am sorry! I was only curious about the novel's title and author." She hastily inserted the book back into its slot.

The earl waved a dismissive hand and stepped past her."I do not mind. It is my sister's collection and I do not think she would mind, as well."

His back to Kallen, he halted in front of his writing desk and began, one by one, perusing the letters that had accumulated there.

"I shall take my leave, milord." She murmured in a low voice. But he was seemingly too absorbed in reading. Whether he heard her or not, Kallen thought it a suitable moment to leave.

But he heard and said, "Wait."

Kallen stopped inches from the door.

Lord Lamperouge tore his eyes away from his letters, directing his focus on her. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of her. He examined Kallen carefully from shoe to bonnet, his eyes travelling agonizingly slow. His face changed from passive to amused. His eyes were laughing, Kallen could tell, but at what, she could not discern. Was there something wrong in her appearance? Was her bonnet askewed? Her apron, rumpled? Or was it her skirt? Kallen squirmed with unease. She was unaware that she was tugging on the length of her skirt to make them fall below her knees. For some reason, she had a feeling this close scrutiny had already happened before. Finally, his purple eyes settled on her troubled face.

"May I have your name, maid?" He prompted. "I presume you are the one newly hired by my housekeeper, Sayoko?"He folded his hands and regarded her with underlying interest.

Conscious of his stare, she bowed in deference, eyes trained on the floor. "My name is Kallen Kouzuki, milord. Yes, Mrs. Shinozaki hired me. it is my third week now," she answered obediently.

Silence followed her words, stretching on for minutes. Kallen lifted her gaze, finding an inscrutable expression on the man's face. At last, he spoke."Thank you, Kallen."

Kallen scrunched her forehead. "For what, sir?"

"For an excellent job of keeping the library dust free, as well as, performing your duties diligently, in spite of being new. It is a big household with a small staff, as you know. I intended to meet you upon my return, but alas my sister has been sick for a few days since I've arrived home"–Kallen felt a pang–"I could not leave her side until I have made sure of her recovery. So, I do apologize this meeting did not happen sooner." He smiled listlessly. He then proceeded to bury himself again in his letters.

It was her turn to observe him. She wondered why she only noticed now his appearance– the crumpled sleeves of his white collared shirt, the loosened button at his neck, the shadows under his eyes, his dishevelled thick locks of raven hair, and most especially, the coarseness in his voice that she recognized was due to lack of sleep. He simply looked haggard, she realized. No doubt, the lord of the house must have been tending to his sister all this time.

The sight of him summoned a fresh recollection of her hospital visits. Kallen spent almost every day of the first month by her mother's bedside, every day hoping, too, she would open her eyes. Yet the doctors could only report the same thing each day. Other than prolonging her life by pushing liquid down into feeding tubes, there was no better solution for Hana Stadtfelt's medical case.

There was also the matter of the medical bills. Kallen would soon use up what meager inheritance was left and so started to look for employment for her mother's sake. As she flitted from one job to another, she had less and less time to visit Hana. The long hours she put in for work, either as an assistant in a bakeshop or as part-time governess for a middle-class family–not to mention, moonlighting as a serving maid at a tavern–were much too draining, both physically and mentally. By the time she went back to her scarce living, she was too exhausted and went out like a light as soon as she stretched out on her bed.

A sharp rap at the door broke Kallen's reverie. It was Jeremiah, come to serve high tea. Kallen made way for the butler to push the tea cart into the room. The peppery scent of black tea drifted in the air as the cart strolled by.

Jeremiah glanced briefly at her before shifting back to the earl. "Master Lelouch, I brought your favorite éclair cake."

"Ah, just the thing I need. Much obliged, Jeremiah."

Kallen would use the opportunity to slip through the door, but, again, Lelouch called her attention. "Kallen."

"Milord," she acknowledged. And again, there was that unreadable face.

"Please ask Sayoko to prepare some food for my sister."

"As you say so, milord."


The smell of spices assaulted Kallen's nostrils as she entered the kitchen. Sayoko took her place by the stove, stirring a tall pot. The housekeeper called out to her while the former's back was turned. "Kallen?"

"Lord Lamperouge wishes me to tell you to prepare food for his sister," Kallen relayed.

"I see you have met Master Lelouch. Very well." The spatula in Sayoko's hand stopped moving. Sayoko went to the table where a tray was waiting. Apparently, the Japanese woman already anticipated her master's request. She hefted it off the table and dropped it into Kallen's hands. "Kallen, will you please take this up to Lady Nunnally?"

And that was how Kallen found herself balancing the tray on one hand and using the other to knock on the door of the Lady Nunnally's room.

No answer. She pressed an ear to the door, trying to listen in. She could not hear any sounds.

Taking great care not to topple the tray, Kallen twisted the doorknob and then pushed her weight upon the door. She treaded cautiously. Her eyes roamed around the room as she crossed the floor. A healthy fire kept the room warm. Against the wall, opposite of the fireplace, was an ornate white mahogany canopy bed with fuchsia drapes and matching rose-colored beddings. A figure lay in the middle. Kallen approached the bed to gain a closer view.

A young girl of about fourteen years, in a white nightgown, laid underneath the quilt. Her thick, wavy lengths of hair, light-colored, were tousled all over the pillow. Her upturned face looked restful; her breathing, normal.

Kallen put down the tray on a nearby table, the chinaware tinkling the slightest. But it was enough to rouse the sleeping figure, who stirred in bed and started mumbling. Her eyes opened slowly.

Kallen bent over her. "I am sorry. Did I wake you up, Lady Nunnally?"

Nunnally only stared sleepily at Kallen. After a few moments, her first words were, "Who are you?"An innocent yet most pragmatic question.

"Oh." Of course, she would not know me. In her head, Kallen censured herself for forgetting the introductions first.

"I am Kallen, milady. The new maid."

"Kallen. What a beautiful name," murmured Nunnally, a blissful smile gracing her features, as if she was still in a half dream.

Kallen was caught off guard by her response. "T-thank you, milady."

Nunnally tried to sit up, but her body and the blanket seemed too heavy and she collapsed back against the pillow.

Kallen moved quickly to her aid. "Let me help you, milady." Kallen fluffed up Nunnally's pillow and helped prop her up against the headboard.

Nunnally looked gratefully at her. "I apologize I was not able to welcome you as lady of the house," she said.

Kallen unfolded the legs of the tray and set it up in front of the girl. "Should I...?" Kallen trailed off, gesturing to the tray.

Nunnally understood her meaning and shook her head. "No need, Kallen. Thank you for your concern. I can feed myself. But will you keep me company?" The last was a gentle pleading. "Please have a seat."

Kallen heeded her request. Her eyes fell on the high back chair beside the bed. She went and sat down with some hesitation. It came to her that this might be the very same chair that Lord Lamperouge spent many nights in while fretting over his sister.

"You came from the city, Kallen?"

"Yes, milady." Kallen did not want to appear too comfortable in her seat and kept her hands on her lap.

"How long have you been working here?"

"It will be my third week on the morrow."

"I see." Nunnally's hand was poised midair. "Before coming here, what did you do for a living?"

That was how their conversation went. Nunnally would ask a question and Kallen would give an answer. Where was Kallen born? Does she have siblings? What are her activities when she is off duty? Does she like to read books? In between each question, Nunnally would take a sip of soup or a bite of bread. It felt strange and relieving at the same time to be so open with a person one had just met and, moreover, someone above a servant's station. There was something in the unassuming manner Nunnally spoke, her eagerness and genuine interest, that made Kallen at ease.

"What do you think of brother?" Nunnally asked when she had finally done eating.

Kallen was shocked by the boldness of her question, but covered it up by abruptly standing up to take the tray away. "Lady Nunnally, I think it matters not whatever my opinion of Lord Lamperouge is."

"Do not worry, Kallen. I will not have you expelled for speaking against brother. I only wish to hear an honest first impression."

Kallen had still not lifted the tray off the bed, her mind working out if she would oblige the young girl. Basked In the amber light, Nunnally's skin glowed and her hair was tainted with shadows. And when Kallen looked carefully into her eyes, the same deep purple shade was reflected.

"I think..." Kallen began."He is the kind who is busy in his own affairs to mind others. But I also see that he cares a great deal for you, his sister. I also think he is a secretive man." Kallen gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. She had said the last part without utterly thinking. Why did I say that?

But Nunnally was not offended and actually chuckled. "Thank you, Kallen. I do agree with your opinion. I believe we will get along well, Kallen."

Kallen finally took away the tray. "I will leave you so you may take your rest, Lady Nunnally."

Nunnally nodded, her mouth turned up. "Good night, Kallen."

"Good night, milady," returned Kallen with a curtsy.

"Kallen," Nunnally said, before Kallen was about to leave. "I'm glad to have met you."

Kallen smiled. "Likewise, Lady Nunnally."

Indeed, Kallen felt, too, that they would get along.


The next day started like any ordinary day. Kallen was already awake before dawn, but not before Sayoko and Jeremiah, who always seemed to get up earlier than her. Kallen was assisting Sayoko in polishing the cutlery when the bell box started ringing at the 7th hour.

"It is Master Lelouch's bell," said Jeremiah, who had emerged from the pantry. He locked the pantry door and went to answer the earl's summon.

"Although it is to be expected, it's very unusual for the lord to use the bell," Sayoko told Kallen when it was only the two of them.

"I have not heard it ring since I've arrived," admitted Kallen as she was polishing her twentieth fork. "Is it a good or bad thing?"

"It can be either or both," The older maid replied in good humor. "Mr. Gottwald will be back soon to tell us which is it."

True enough, Jeremiah returned bearing news. "The master will have breakfast with the lady in the small dining room."

"Well, that is good and bad news," The housekeeper said with a glint in her eye. Kallen threw a confused look at the Japanese and so, Sayoko explained. "The good news is Lady Nunnally is fully recovered. On the other hand, I will have to start planning the master's meals thoroughly again."

"Kallen, go up to Lady Nunnally's room and help her with her toilette," instructed Jeremiah.

Kallen turned to Sayoko for permission, at which the latter smiled. The younger maid exempted herself from kitchen duties and climbed the stairs to the upper rooms, carrying a pitcher of water for the lady's ablutions.

Kallen knocked softly on the door. "May I come in, Lady Nunnally?"

"Come in!" came a muffled cry from inside.

Kallen entered the room. As she ventured inside, she once again found her eyes wandering. The room appeared different in the daytime. She noticed things she had missed from the night before. The cream-colored wallpaper complemented the velvet carpet and canopy bed with red and pink beddings. There was a diorama of a village scene at a table close to the door. In front of the canopy bed was a rose-painted settee, with a plethora of dolls and stuffed animals. And sitting in front of the white dresser was Nunnally. Kallen witnessed her hastily shutting a drawer close and said nothing about it.

"Good morning, Lady Nunally," greeted Kallen.

Nunnally looked over her shoulder. "Good morning, Kallen."

"How are you feeling, Lady Nunnally?" Kallen asked. She stepped to the windows to draw back the curtains. In the daylight, Kallen saw Nunnally's skin was very pale like the moon and her hair, light as straw. Her eyes were still the deep shade of purple Kallen remembered from last night.

"Very well, thank you. My brother visited a while ago, asking the same question."

"That's good. Mr. Gottwald sent me to help you dress up for breakfast."

Nunnally clapped her hands in delight. "That would be wonderful."

Kallen helped Nunnally wash her body. Afterwards, she went to the wardrobe, of the same white mahogany as the bed and dresser, and took out several dresses for the lady to choose.

"Can you braid my hair, Kallen?" Nunnally requested while Kallen was brushing her hair.

Kallen confessed to Nunnally she honestly did not know much about hairdressing–being the one, in her former life, who sat in Nunnally's place and had her hair dressed–but she would try her best. She took strands of her straw-colored hair and began to weave her tresses into a rope. She was concentrating fully on her task and did not notice until she lifted her head that Nunnally was gazing at her from the mirror.

"What is it, Lady Nunnally?"

There was a shimmer in her eyes. "Kallen, has anyone told you your eyes are like the sky?"

Kallen flushed at the cheeks. It took her several seconds to recover. The last person who did tell her that already passed away–her father. Kallen recalled, her heart squeezing.

"Thank you, Lady Nunnally."

Kallen finished her handiwork by tying the end of Nunnally's hair with a white ribbon to match her beige day dress. Some curls had escaped but Kallen did not think she did too badly. Nunnally might have thought so, too, if her blooming face was any indication.

Mr. Gottwald came to take Nunnally downstairs, while Kallen stayed behind to quickly tidy up the room. She opened the windows to allow some fresh air. She fixed the beddings and cleaned the grate. When all was in order, she left the room and went downstairs to the dining room to wait upon the master and mistress of the house.

Kallen stood next to the sideboard, handing over and taking plates from Jeremiah, who was the one to directly serve the food. When she was not performing her duty, she was unconsciously drawn to the interaction between the earl and his sister.

Nunnally was recounting to Lelouch, with enthusiasm, about a book she had read while he was away. Lelouch played his part perfectly. He nodded encouragingly or asked, "And then, what happened next?" at Nunnally when she would stumble at certain parts of her narrative. When the story called for an emotional response, Lelouch would cry or laugh or express awe, sadness, surprise, or anger at the right time. He appeared every bit a doting brother, always ready to dispense a fond smile or an affectionate ruffle of her head.

In the middle of her storytelling, Lelouch politely interrupted his sister. "Just a moment, Nunnally."

He beckoned for Jeremiah, who approached his master. He leaned over to hear Lelouch's whisper. Just like that, his aura shifted from affectionate brother to somber lord. The exchange had finished. Jeremiah stepped back. Lelouch noticed Kallen and they locked eyes for a moment. He gave her a meaningful smile–a cipher. She shifted away her gaze.

When Kallen dared to look again, Lelouch was back to his flawless portrayal of his brotherly role, laughing genuinely at Nunnally's attempt to mimic an old man's voice.

There was nothing out of the ordinary in the days that followed. The house really only sprung to life when Nunnally was up and about and the family took their meals in the dining room. Nowadays, Kallen did find the earl regularly in the library. Oftentimes, he would be sitting at his desk, scribbling a missive. The rest of the times, he would be reclining in an armchair, holding a book.

Never did Kallen once again catch a glimpse of that vulnerability ever since that one time. Lelouch was always his impeccable self. His collar was starched; his sleeve cuffs, buttoned; his hair, combed back; his smile, charming; his deep purple eyes, observing...

Perhaps, they were hiding some secret.


On a certain night, Kallen had answered the earl's summon from his room. It was an odd hour. She had only always come during the day. Jeremiah would normally be the one to wait on the lord until he retired for the night. But Jeremiah and Sayoko were both indisposed, so the task was left to her. Unsuspecting, she knocked briefly on the door and went inside.

The four poster bed was empty. Kallen would have thought the room unoccupied, if she had not seen the white elbow sticking out from the armchair facing the fireplace and the black coat strewn across the chair's back. The room was silent, except for the crackling of logs. She padded across the floor to reach the chair. She peeked from above. His eyes closed, the earl was resting an elbow on the arm of the chair, pillowing his right cheek between thumb and middle and forefinger together. A wineglass, with one-fourth remaining of its content, was standing on the other arm of the chair. Next to it, was the earl's hand dangling from the edge.

Kallen watched the rise and fall of his chest and concluded he was asleep. She had started reaching out for the wine flute when fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Don't."

She twisted her head to the side and their eyes made very close contact. She felt dizzy and stepped back a bit. "I apologize, milord! I thought you were sleeping."

Lelouch straightened up. "I was simply resting my eyes." He picked up the wine flute and downed the rest of it, asking, "What are you doing here?"

"I heard your summons, milord. Mr. Gottwald was not available, so I came instead."

The nobleman placed the empty glass on the low table beside the chair. He met her cerulean eyes. "I mean, what are you doing here in my house?"

"I do not understand what you mean, milord." Kallen could feel her heart cantering wildly. Her head was spinning.

Lelouch stood up from the chair and advanced towards her. "Lady Kallen Stadtfelt," he drawled.

Kallen stiffened at the mention of her real name. She stared in disbelief at the man before her. This man, with a mocking smile.

"Daughter of the late Marquis Stadtfelt. Her father gambled away his wealth and committed suicide, leaving his wife and daughter with an unsettled debt. Lady Stadtfelt did not regard her daughter's welfare and succumbed to drug abuse. She is now in a hospital, a living vegetable. Her daughter took care of the estate for half a year but was not capable enough and had to let go of the family property. She was left with nothing. No inheritance. Only a ruined reputation. An unsuitable match."

The woman clenched her teeth and fisted the hem of her skirt, trying hard to calm the wrath seething inside of her.

"Why are you here? Are you seeking to marry into wealth? Are you after my family's fortune? Are you after me?"

A deluge of memories flooded her—an encounter with a man on the streets in front of her living space, an unsigned letter that came along with Gino Weinberg's package, Milly's account about her family heirloom...

It was cruelty all along. Kallen finally understood the cipher. His charming smile and flashing eyes were a facade masking his cruelty. Something unbidden snapped within her. Kallen could not stop herself from rushing towards him and raising her palm, she unleashed a resounding slap on his right cheek. Lelouch winced slightly but stood his ground.

Kallen raised her voice in anger. "You do not know what you are saying, Lelouch Lamperouge! If that is how you will view me, then I should just leave this place!"

With that, she stormed off, shutting the door with a very loud bang.

Behind Lelouch, a voice laughed relentlessly.

"If you keep laughing like a witch, you will truly be fit to be called one, witch." Lelouch spun around and frowned. "Can you not wear something to cover yourself?" There was a sliver of annoyance laced in his words.

The figure, a woman having flowing green hair and golden eyes, glanced down at herself. Truly, she was bare naked and did not really mind being so. But she knew Lelouch, as confident he may seem with women, minded a lot. She smiled like a Cheshire cat and waved a hand over her head to materialize a crimson robe dusted with pinkish-white sakura blossoms. She had a fondness for Japanese culture.

"There. Is this preferable?"

"Better."

"She is strong, that much I can tell you. You will not be able to hold her down. You may have met your match, Lelouch."

Lelouch only grunted. He went to the table to take the bottle of wine and tried to pour some into the wine glass he was using, but only a few droplets fell. He narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Did you finish the wine? Is that why you rang the bell?"

The woman shrugged, sauntering across the room and settling herself leisurely on a divan. She lifted her golden eyes at Lelouch. "I know you are interested to know how I escaped from my cage."

Lelouch was, indeed, interested, but he did not let on. She took her time answering Lelouch, testing his patience to the limits.

"Well?" Lelouch could not wait any longer.

The figure laid on her stomach, nesting her head on both arms. "I have her to thank for getting me out of my prison. It was getting quite boring inside that room. You left me there for how many years without visiting once."

Lelouch scoffed. "Why would I, witch?"

"All the things you hate, locked away in one room." She taunted in a singsong manner. "Also, may I point out that is a misnomer, you know. I am nothing of the sort at all. Call me by my proper name."

"Fine," Lelouch said grudgingly. "C.C."


Kallen had thrown all her items into her suitcase in a hurry and rushed out from the servants' quarters.

Sayoko was alarmed to see her agitated self. "Kallen? Are you leaving?"

"I am sorry, Mrs. Shinozaki, but I despise your master!" She cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. She tossed her apron on the bench and flung herself out of the back door.

It was close to nightfall. Kallen walked briskly, sniffling–was it from the cold or her tears?–while crunching gravel underfoot. After walking a few yards, she veered off from the main path and started walking closer to the trees. She vaguely recalled Sayoko telling her that cutting through the woods would take half the time to get downhill. She asked Sayoko if the woods were safe.

"No human who does not belong to the house would dare enter the woods," Sayoko said cryptically.

If I intend to leave, does that make me a stranger now? Kallen wondered. She glanced at the sea of trees. They did not look too inviting but a reckless desire spurred her on to enter the woods. Whatever happened to her–whether she ended up lost, vanished, or get spirited away–she did not care.

It took her a good deal of trampling on bushes before she discovered the trail, but once she did, she made good headway.

The light was unusual under the canopy of leaves. Shafts of moonbeam slipped through the cracks in the leaves and in between, balls of glowing light floated around her.

Ghost lights.

Her surroundings seemed to be doing strange things to her. She felt light-headed, feverish even. In the distance, she saw a gap—the end of the forest. She continued walking, keeping the end in sight. Time did not feel long or short. Without knowing, she had stumbled out of the woods. By then, it was fully night. A quarter moon hung over a thin veil of clouds.

Just as Sayoko had said, she found herself at the foot of the hill and towering over her was The Black Knight inn.

Chapter 2 end


The story is moving along now. It's still slow going because I needed to establish some things first. Yes, part of the mystery is obvious but it's intended and there are many more things to reveal that hopefully mesh well together. This story has been planned for ten chapters. And as usual, I look forward to hear from readers. :)

NOTES:

Kallen calls Sayoko Mrs. Shinozaki, because in the Victorian era, housekeepers were called Mrs. even if they were unmarried.

The title "Princess Downstairs" is inspired by one of my favorite books, "The Countess Below the Stairs" by Eva Ibbotson. You could say this story is also partially influenced by it.

I believe they haven't given us Kallen's mother's name, so I picked a name, Hana, that could be both English and Japanese. When I first wrote this, I just established that Kallen's mother was in the hospital under a coma without doing research on the matter of comatose patients in the 19th century. But apparently, in the 19th century, when patients either fell into a coma or paralysis, they were also using rubber tubes to feed them liquid.

Nunnally is not blind in this one. It would be too cruel to make her so given what she has gone through or will be going through in this story. :)