When I thought of my mother, I always saw her different from everyone that I grew up with. She was silk among denim and corduroy. The moment the door of the limousine was opened for me and I saw the giant mansion I thought of her. I thought of how this was the lifestyle she was meant for.

Not me.

Pixis went through the doors that were opened for me. These were servants clad in uniform. Just like out of the movies. When I stared at them they gave pleasant smiles and respectfully lowered their gazes. Their politeness made my skin itch as I wish I had another layer of clothing on.

"Miss Reiss, please follow me,"

"...Reiss..."

"Ah, right, Rod Reiss—he is your biological father. He has taken you in after hearing of your misfortune. He is gone on a business trip and will be here in two to three days. He apologizes for that inconvenience," Pixis relayed.

"...So, my name is Reiss?"

"Correct. Your father hopes to talk to you about that—offer you a change of name, a rebirth from the terrible childhood you had." Pixis gave a smile as if they were talking about the weather.

To be reborn again?

"Oh."

I trailed after him till we came into the main parlor. It was large and luxurious but I could barely see past all the flowers. They were of every hue and in vases of every shape and color.

"Rod Reiss had two children." Pixis was quiet as he faltered, holding the petals of the drooping flower.

Had?

"One of them recently passed away due to a heart condition. Her name was Frieda Reiss. She was twenty when she passed... only a week ago."

It was only when he mentioned that did I find her picture on the piano that was hidden behind a cluster of large flowers. I went over to it and saw her—dark hair and blue eyes just like mine.

"Your father...when he saw a picture of you, he, too, was taken back at how similar you look." Pixis was behind me as I quickly shuffled away from him. He didn't comment on it as he sighed

"I reckon you two would've went hand in hand."

I glanced back at the picture. She had a bright smile, the kind that most likely would've brighten anyone's day. When I glimpsed back at Pixis I saw he was staring long and hard at me. It made my stomach churn and my skin crawl.

"Y-You said...he had two children?" I quickly asked.

"Oh! Yes!" Pixis snapped out of his daze and went to leading me to where ever it was. We went down a hall that lead to a sole bedroom. It was much bigger than my room-

I glanced back to the door knob. I reached out, touching the cold brass, and ran my thumb over the lock. It gave me great comfort to press it in and see the thick bolt come from the socket.

"Armin Reiss. He's the same age as you."

So father had an affair with my mother, or was Armin just like me?

"He's your half-brother and from the same mother as Freida." Pixis filled in as if he knew what I was thinking about. He was beginning to unnerve me with how he'd stare at me one moment and then cover it up with a stupid smile. I knew what he was doing—he was trying to figure me out.

"Wh-Where's the bathroom...? I'd like to take a shower."

"Oh! You have your own personal shower over here. Your closet is right over here. Sadly, it's empty, but your father plans to take you out for clothes tomorrow."

"...but he's at a meeting?" I went over to the bathroom and opened it to find that luxury was not spared here either. It was the size of the living room back at my old home.

"Ah, right, right, when I say take you out, I mean he's provided me with the money necessarily to give you clothes and whatever else you may deem fitting." Pixis said as he stood by the doorway.

I stared at him.

He stared at me.

"AH!" He laughed before turning and walking away.

"Right, right, enjoy your shower! If you ever need me, there is a remote with a pager on your nightstand! Anything you need, really!"

"...Thanks..." I closed the door before he could talk more. This door had a lock, too, as I waited to hear Pixis leave the room. Once he was gone, I peaked out to ensure I was alone. When it was clear I ran to the bedroom door, locked it, and brought a chair to the handle, barricading myself in. I returned to the bathroom and locked that door, too, for safety measure.

I stood and listened.

Not a sound.

No noise from the radio or from grandmother's TV shows. Not even the hush of the wind through the willow or distant mooing of cows.

Just pure silence.
The stillness was loud in my ears. It left my thoughts room to breathe and whisper things I didn't want to think about. Memories-

I went to the faucet, turning the water on as I stood there, composing myself. The sound of running water soothed me and if I tried I could imagine it as rain, but it didn't last long. It only reminded me of the sounds of home—my real home—and how it was not the same. The rain would speak back at home, it would talk to the willow outside my window, it would hit the old, rusted tin bucket on the ground with loud cracks. This was quiet—this was a refined sound of running water. It had nothing like the rustic charm my home had.

Where was I?

I leaned against the counter, slowly taking my hood off and caught a glance at my reflection. This was me now. I didn't look any different than I did a month ago. It was like everything was the same.

Nothing changed.

I was taken from where I grew up, where I knew people, and I was here now—alone without anyone I knew.

I sighed and ran a hand over my face.

This was what I wanted, right?

To be given a fresh start?

-x-x-x-

Hours later, a knock was on the door. The sun had set awhile ago and I took the chair from the door when I was done showering, but I kept it locked.

"Miss Reiss?" It was Pixis.

"Hold on," I went to the door, unlocking it, and allowing him in. I was surprised to see a trolley behind him with a silver platter.

"It was to my understanding that you'd appreciate dinner alone in the comfort of your room?" He asked more than stated.

I was at least grateful enough to nod.

"That's good. The kitchen staff were uncertain as to what your taste palette was like so we went with something basic and general." He uncovered the dish to present my dinner. It looked straight out of a movie as I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was exactly. It was a darker meat—pork? It smelled sweet with its sauce, though.

Pixis said the dishes name. Or I'd assume so because what he spoke was a jumble of words that sounded familiar to Spanish, or... I think?

"Magret de Canard Sauce Cerises," Pixis repeated with a small, amused smile that was barely hidden under his mustache.

"...What is it exactly?" I asked as he set up a makeshift dinner table for me on my coffee table.

"Roasted duck breast with a sun-dried cherry red port wine demi-glace sauce," he said and uncovered another small dish nearby it.

"Soupe à l'Oignon, or, if you prefer, I can fetch you a salad?"

Ok. It was a soup.

I really wish he just said it in a way I could understand.

"French onion soup," he translated, "a simple dish as the name says—onion soup with Swiss cheese."

"And," he brought out an even tinier dish and opened it to reveal something delicious, "something sweet for a beautiful young lady."

It was an apple pie with vanilla ice cream on it. This was something I was familiar with.

"Tarte Tartin a La Mode," Pixis said.

"Apple pie with vanilla ice cream," I gave a ghost of a smile as my stomach growled.

"Oh? Well, yes, I suppose in one way or another, but I'm glad to see you brighten up. If you are still hungry after this I can tell the chef to make another dessert?"

"Ok."

Pixis gave a nod and smile before leaving me alone to the dinner. I was glad he wasn't going to lord over me and remind me how alien this place was. Everything sounded luxurious and that every person was taught how to make it sound even gaudier.

I went to reach down for a spoon for my soup, but found a set of cutlery. There were many forks and knives of different sizes with only two spoons. They were all carefully laid out and I knew that specific ones were used.

Another flashing light that this world wasn't meant for me.

I grabbed a fork and knife, wishing I knew what was what, and began to gingerly cut a piece of duck off. I sniffed at it before I took a nibble, chewing it slowly as my eyes widened—it was delicious! I stabbed another piece with my fork and stuffed it into my mouth, savoring the sweet and tenderness of it.

I didn't get far into it before another knock was at my door and Pixis came in with another trolley. How many did they have?

"Ah, Miss Reiss, you must've been starving if you didn't wait for your tea, or perhaps do you want water?"

I was waiting?

"...I didn't reali-"

"Ah, it's fine, it's perfect!" Pixis shook his head and poured her tea. He saw the cutlery arrangement and then gave me a smile as if I was an oblivious child with good intentions.

"Do you not know table etiquette?"

...No...

I did not. His pleasantries were coming off a lot more passive aggressive to my ignorance than anything.

"You are using the seafood fork," he took it from my hand, "and the salad knife."

He put them back to their respective spots. He then pointed with his gloved hand to the middle knife on the right.

"This is the meat course knife," he informed and then shifted his hand to the left, "this is the meat course fork. They are always placed in the middle. As for the seafood, they are on the outermost, and salad is on the inside."

I took the correct ones, hoping he'd end his speech.

"This one—this spoon, Miss Reiss," he pointed to the little spoon above the dish, "this is for your tea and the fork above it is for your dessert. Now, your soup spoon is this one—yes, very good!"

I couldn't even eat without being told how incapable I was to live here.

Where did I belong if I didn't feel right here, but couldn't live at home?

There was nowhere.

"Oh...Miss Reiss, you look like you're about to cry. Here, take my handkerchief, please, no, you are a beautiful, young lady—do not cry." Pixis frowned as he took out a piece of cloth. He reached out to pat my face dry but I flinched before he could get close.

"...Why, Miss Reiss, I would never hurt you. I am only here to ensure your comfort and safety. Those are my two top priorities. Second is to ensure your wish is my command. Please, allow me to cease your tears."

"P-Please, don't touch me, do-don't." I refused his advance to wipe my tears once again and he stopped. He put the handkerchief down on the bed beside me.

"At least take it and help yourself," his voice was soft and kind as he stared at me. I didn't like him looking at me—I didn't want to be seen—If I was seen then I'd remember what they saw—they'd see me, a girl who was-

"It's fine." I quickly schooled my expression and forced a smile.

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is...I-I just...It's all hard to take in...everything is different than home." Something to throw him from trying to pry further. It was at least a half truth so he couldn't blame me for fully lying.

"Oh... Oh, yes, of course... I'm sorry, Miss Reiss—I must've come off so pompous! We can take your lessons slowly and by the school year it will be as if you were born here!"

"School? Oh...Y-you said Armin was my age, right?" Good. No more about me.

"Ah, yes! Rose Academy! A private institution with high regards. Armin will be attending there, too."

"Oh...where is he now?"

"Oh! Yes, my, I am very, very terribly sorry. I seem to be empty headed lately," he gave an apologetic smile.

"Everything has been so...hard around here... but that is no excuse for my incompetence... But, yes, Armin does not come home from school till late—he has clubs he attends, you see. Even then, he often goes to a friend's house to study or stay with on most nights. Perhaps tomorrow he shall pay you a visit, hm? I think you two would get along quite nicely."

I had to admit that I always thought of a younger sibling. I daydreamed a few times of having one and what it would be like to understand each other through our worst times. To have someone who knew who I really was and still loved me unconditionally. Someone who could share the burden of my mother's hatred.

"...I hope so, too..."

"Of course, I know so! You two are remarkably similar! Now, how about you enjoy your roast duck, tea, and dessert? You ate quite a bit since I was gone, please, do eat up! I will tell the cook to send in more!"

I felt a small smile on my face as I took another bite of the duck with the correct fork. Pixis looked pleased.

"Yes, you two will do nicely."

A younger or older brother?

I suppose it didn't matter. Anyone who I could understand and talk to would be nice.

Maybe this place wasn't too bad.

A/N:

POV has changed to first person. This chapter was difficult for me to write due to getting my wisdom teeth removed, but I'm glad to crank it out within my two week time limit.

Question for my readers: Where do you think Ymir is?