I was not fine, but I will be.
If there is anything I’m grateful for, it is that my mind is much older than Hazel’s. At least, I know this is wrong, I think as I ice the bruise across my cheek. I draft a new plan in my mind.
1. Find a way to leave the manor, and never look back.
But…
“Urgh.” I groan then sigh whilst I sit on the steps of the wooden veranda. “Leaving is way easier said than done.” And even if I were to leave, where would I even go?
I don't know anything about this place.
However, if I stay… I hug my knees close and look to the ground. “I…” I don't know how much more of this I can take, honestly. “It's so unfair…” I mutter under my breath.
In the distance, cicadas sing. And I watch the birds fly again, so freely over my head in the gardens, that the irony isn't lost on me.
Around my neck, the artifact grows warm with my anger. But after a few minutes have gone by, I simply huff once more then rise to my feet. “All right, I can't sit around here forever!”
The manor’s doors seem a little more imposing than they were before. And much less welcoming. Still though, I step back inside, and peer past the entrance’s wooden door.
If I am not mistaken, the manor is empty, save for its staff.
It doesn’t take me long to find Ana-Lea and ask her where Hazel’s—well, I suppose, my parents have gone to.
“Oh, they’ve…” Ana-Lea turns to face me but her gaze, her voice fills with pain upon seeing the state of my face. “They’ve, um, gone again. I’m sorry… Hazel.” She bends her knees until we are eye to eye, then ruffles my hair with a sorrowful grin. “I guess you’re in my care again, huh?” Though she tries to appear cheerful, her forced laughter isn’t lost on me. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
As a matter of fact, there is. “L-Library!” I blurt. “I want to go to the library!”
“Right now?”
I nod. “I'd like…to study.”
Ana-Lea’s features contort to a look of confusion and dismay. “Hazel, are you certain you’re feeling all right?” she asks me, after a few seconds of pausing, and being seemingly lost in her thoughts.
I laugh. “Why wouldn't I be?” I shake my head. “It takes more than this, just to bring me down…”
Does it? I wonder, as my voice trails off, I ponder on what I've just said. Honestly, I'm not exactly sure why I feel so used to dealing with such dire situations. I know, I'm in quite the predicament right now as I walk in Hazel’s shoes, but this still feels like a dream. I can barely process that it’s technically my folks who just hurt me this bad—to me, they still feel like strangers I was meeting for the first time. And sure they sure acted like unpleasant ones, too. Parents? I think. Don’t make me laugh. I don't feel betrayed in the slightest albeit slightly worried for the future. “So?” I ask Ana-Lea. “Can you bring me to the library?”
Ana-Lea seems rightfully confused. Yet, after a moment, she sighs then takes my hands in hers. “Follow me…”
For the first time in a while, we walk in silence. Ana-Lea is holding my fingers tighter than she usually does, a solemn expression washes over her features. In the background of my thoughts, our footsteps, the sounds of the manor's personnel cleaning and cooking can be heard all around. I want to interrupt this odd quiet gloom that has instilled itself between us, yet for some reason my throat tightens, and I cannot bring myself to.
Eventually though, the two of us reach tall wooden doors, adorned with emerald jewels in their crevices, that have been carved to resemble ivy.
“Woah…” I cannot help the gasp that leaves me upon witnessing the sight of the imposing entrance.
And, unfortunately for me, it seems my maid catches on. “Hazel…” Ana-Lea mutters as she squeezes my palm once. “Are you certain everything’s all right?” She raises a suspicious brow my way. “The library is as it always has been, and yet, you appear surprised.”
“Oh, t-that’s…” I clear my throat. I bring my hands to my face then take a step back. “I s-suppose, I…never took the time to properly appreciate this door!” I lie through my teeth with a painfully forced laugh.
If she hadn’t figured me out already, this is probably where my little deception ends.
There is no way that she’ll let this slide—
“Ah. I see.” Ana-Lea nods in a surprising show of approval, as if the nonsense I've just told her is a perfectly acceptable excuse for an eight year old to spout. “I'm glad nothing is amiss, then!” Ana-Lea’s grin seems honest when she faces me again, but, the growing suspicion in her tone is not lost on me. “Shall we?” she asks, as she offers me her hand again, then pushes the library doors open.
I gulp, then follow her in.
My heart is beating loud in my ribcage. “Yes, thank you…” I truly need to start being more careful about the things I say, the things I do. If I continue down this route, someone else might start to notice something is amiss with me. Worst of all, if there were to ask me who I am if not Hazel, I wouldn't even have an answer—I'm still trying to figure that out myself.
I look to my surroundings, and the library is, well…full of books, as expected.
What I didn't account for, however, is being unable to read the language here.
As I grasp a sturdy tome between my hands and try to decipher the strange symbols and shapes on the page, my brows furrow. Odd. How is it that I’m able to speak their tongue, and yet, I cannot read?
I am certain I memorized ways to communicate language through text at some point; still, for some reason it seems as though the writing system here isn't the same as the one I can recall from…wherever those memories I have come from. “Um… Ana-Lea?” I ask, sheepishly, whilst pretending that I am fine. And that my hands aren’t sweaty. And that I’m not totally afraid of the possibility that Hazel already learned how to read. And that by asking my next question, I’ll be letting my maid know for certain that I am not Hazel. “A-Are there any books that can teach me how to read?”
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