A/N: My Chapter.
As I approached the mirror on the opposite end of the room, I was startled by my own reflection. It had been months since I had seen my own face without a thick layer of muck and grime covering its surface. My skin was flushed from the steam of my bath, but it looked clean, at least. I was almost glowing in comparison to how I had looked when I arrived, like a shiny penny with the rust removed.
My damp hair hung in a dark, heavy curtain on either side of my face. It looked so different without the flecks of dirt and bits of twig stuck in it. There was still the issue of the knots and snarls, however. I wondered how, if at all, I would be able to get them all out. With embarrassment, I realized I could not remember the last time I had combed my hair.
Just then, a quiet knock sounded at the door; I could tell it was a woman knocking from its gentle sound. Perhaps Angela had come back to check on me. "Come in," I called.
It was not Angela who appeared, but rather the petite, dark haired woman from outside. She smiled, approaching me slowly. Her hands were clasped together in front of her waist. The style of her clothes was simple like my own, but I could tell by the way she carried herself that she was not a servant. Only the upper class held themselves with such grace. I looked down at my feet, something I did instinctually when I was in the presence of someone superior.
"I wanted to see how you were doing," she told me. Her voice was kind and lovely, like the shimmering of tiny silver bells.
"Thank you for the bath," I said quietly. "It was very kind of you."
"Of course, anything you need." I looked up at her then, and I could tell from the expression on her face that she meant it. "I'm Alice, by the way."
"Isabella" I replied, curtsying slightly.
She stepped forward and gently took my rough, worn hand into her fragile soft, one. "Welcome, Isabella," she said warmly. "We are very happy to have you in our home."
I had been right about her. "So, this is your house?" I asked tentatively.
"Yes," she replied. "Edward's, Emmett's, and mine. We inherited the estate after our parents died several years ago."
She was his sister, then. What a shame. I was actually starting to like her.
I noticed as her eyes drifted to my ratty, snarled hair. A look of utter pity spread across her lovely features. I blushed and looked down to my feet again.
She put her hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. "May I?" she asked softly, gesturing toward a small silver comb on the vanity next to the mirror.
That caught me off guard. "Y-you don't have to," I stuttered. It was unheard of for a mistress of the house to help groom one of her servants.
"Please," she begged. "I've never had a sister. Well, except for my sister-in-law, but "Queen Rosalie" would never let me touch her hair."
I knew immediately who she was referring to; undoubtedly the imperious blonde from outside. I smiled slightly; at least we had a common enemy.
"Please," she said again, gesturing to the chair in front of the vanity.
I sat in the chair obediently, not wanting to disappoint her.
Alice smiled approvingly, plucked the comb from the vanity and began to pull it gently through my knotty hair. She began at the ends and slowly worked her way up toward the roots. She tugged at the knots and snarls, but it did not hurt. It felt quite pleasant, actually. No one had played with my hair since I was a child.
I sat very still while she twisted and braided large sections of my hair and pinned them up at the back of my head. The style became more and more intricate as her tiny fingers twisted nimbly through the long, heavy strands. I suddenly began to feel very emotional; I had never expected to be shown such kindness. Along with my surprise, I also felt a great sadness. My lonely heart ached for the bonds of friendship. But as much as I already adored her, I knew this would not be possible with Alice; she was my mistress, and I was her property. We were from different worlds – even if she wanted to, she would never be able to see me as her sister, as someone worthy of love.
"So," I broke the silence, "Rosalie is married to your brother?"
"Engaged," she replied, twisting another section of hair. "I should have known Emmett would be the first of us to get married. He's the youngest, and also the most impulsive." I detected a hint of disapproval in her tone.
"The party tonight is for their engagement," she continued. "I had assumed that they would build a home of their own once they were betrothed, but for now they've settled in at the manor. I think Rosalie is secretly hoping Edward and I will leave eventually so she can have it to herself." Her tone was full of disgust now. "She shouldn't hold her breath, though. Neither Edward nor I are married, and I don't know if we will ever leave. It's the only place that's ever felt like home to us."
My heart ached at the thought of having such a place.
"I hope it will become like home for you, too," she added softly. "We - my brothers and I, at least - try very hard to make our staff feel like part of the family."
And what a strange family this was. They seemed almost too good to be true. I wanted desperately to believe her; there was nothing in this world I wanted more than to feel like I belonged somewhere. But I didn't want to get my hopes up. I would only be disappointed.
"I don't know if that will be possible," I said sadly.
"Why not?" Her voice was full of hurt.
I immediately regretted what I had said; I didn't want to seem ungrateful. Still, I tried to explain myself to her.
"Please don't misunderstand" I begged, twisting around to face her. "You've been so kind to me. It's just… when you've lived as I have lived, you learn not to get attached to a certain place or to certain people, because nothing in life is ever certain."
Alice nodded, understanding.
"And…" I continued, "it's hard to feel like you belong somewhere, to feel like part of a family, when the people you live with literally own you, when they've paid money for you as if you were an animal… like your brother did this morning," I tried to hide the resentment in my voice.
"I know it must seem that way to you," Alice murmured, her eyes soft. "I can't even imagine what you've been through. But you must believe me, Isabella - Edward will not treat you the way you're used to. He's a good man, a true gentleman. You should give him a chance."
"I'll try." I did not want to make a promise I could not keep.
"And," Alice said, grasping my hand again, "I hope you'll come to think of me as your friend, rather than your mistress."
"I already think of you as my friend, Alice," I said, and I meant it.
She smiled in return.
"Now," she sighed, patting the side of my hair, "You're perfect."
I stood to glance at my reflection in the mirror, and I could barely believe my eyes. It was amazing what a difference a hairstyle could make. I had never seen myself look so beautiful.
"You're an artist!" I exclaimed before throwing my arms around her.
At first I feared that I had gone too far, but Alice looked simply elated that I was finally letting my guard down.
"Come," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door, "I need your help downstairs."
A/N: Reviews are Love.