𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯.
I didn't know where they were taking me.
Only that my body ached, my arm still burned, and my chest felt… hollow. So heavy.
The wooden floor beneath my feet was gone.
There was no more scent of soup.
No trace of Mama's warm skin.
Now it smelled like old leather, stale perfume, trapped dust, and cold metal.
I didn't cry anymore.
Not because I didn't want to, but because my throat had closed up.
The carriage moved forward, shaking me like I was just another object.
I tried to hold on to whatever I could just to soften the jolts.
The man who carried me didn't speak.
Didn't look at me.
He simply shoved me inside and shut the door behind me.
I quickly took a seat on the wooden bench.
The other one—the one who called me "Fontclair" like it meant something left me wondering about what he'd said about my father.
Could it have been him?
Of course…
He had those same eyes. That same hair color, only with some gray strands.
Only my left leg wouldn't stop bouncing. I was too nervous.
Just remembering that gaze…
A gaze I'd probably see from now on.
Then I looked out the foggy window, watching everything blur by.
My hand pressed tightly against my chest, gripping my shirt.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe hours.
I don't know.
I just kept looking out the window at the green fields.
Everything out there looked… different.
I searched for the tree—our tree. But I didn't see it.
Not yet.
Then suddenly the carriage stopped, and I stumbled against the inner wall.
That bald man was back and my chest began to rise violently as my heartbeat thundered in my ears.
He threw open the door and climbed in.
He yanked my leg and dragged me out.
I could feel my hands burning against the wooden floor, hurting until he grabbed me again by the same arm.
Just like the other man. My father.
—"Get up! Stand straight, you wimp!!"
When that man shouted, my shoulders jolted.
I didn't understand the words, but I could tell that he wanted me to move faster.
I stood up shakily and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
But suddenly he hit me on the back of the head.
My hands flew up to shield myself as I stumbled forward a few steps.
Up ahead, I saw it.
The mansion.
Towering. Pale. Cold.
Nothing like Mama's little house.
This one… this one looked built to crush you from the moment you stepped in.
They shoved me forward, almost making me fall, but I managed to steady myself and keep walking straight.
Down a long hallway, I saw paintings I didn't recognize, carpets that swallowed footsteps, and doors that felt like they were watching me.
But there were no windows.
Only torches. Only candles.
I didn't ask anything.
I didn't beg.
I just tried not to trip.
Not to make noise.
Not to wish the man behind me would let me go.
Fear consumed me and all the questions of what would happen to me next.
When we finally stopped in front of a room, I turned around, confused.
The man behind me stepped aside, and the other one—dressed in cruel elegance approached and stood right in front of me.
He stared for what felt like forever.
Then spoke again in that dry voice.
—"From today on, you'll sleep here."
He said with cutting firmness, resting both hands on a cane shaped like a silver wolf or dog's head.
—"You'll rise before dawn."
He continued.
"You'll get dressed. Do everything you're told.
You won't speak of your mother again.
And if you do, you'll wish you swallowed first."
He stared straight ahead, but his eyes…
They were fixed on me.
Cold as ice.
—"You will not cry again.
Or you'll be denied food, water, and fresh air.
You'll work through every task you're given until it's done.
You won't go to school anymore.
All your education will be given here."
He went quiet for a few seconds.
—"Do you have any objections?"
He dragged the words like a beast baring fangs.
I only looked down and shook my head slowly.
—"Look at me when you respond!!
My eyes are up here!!
Answer me!!"
He barked.
I flinched and quickly raised my eyes, hands clasped in front of me, trembling, my gaze filled with fear.
—"N-No, sir!!"
I raised my voice, barely able to keep my mouth steady or stop my eyes from watering.
Then he extended his arm.
I shut my eyes, expecting the worst.
But instead, he opened the door and shoved me inside.
I fell hard, scraping my knees on the stone floor.
I trembled like I was freezing, turning my gaze first toward him, then to the room.
It was gray.
No toys.
No books.
Just a bed with sheets so tight, they looked like no one had ever used them.
I wanted to ask Why?
Why was he saying all of that?
Why was he taking everything from me?
But I didn't speak.
I just looked at him.
And before he shut the door, he added:
—"You better learn.
Because if you don't. I'll make sure you understand through pain. Got it?"
—"Yes, sir."
—"Father. Say it right.
Wash up and sleep.
Because before dawn breaks, i want you dressed and downstairs."
—"…Yes, father…"
And he left.
Slamming the door behind him.
I looked at my hands and started pulling out splinters, then limped to the bed on my left foot.
And there I stayed.
Alone.
In silence.
Trembling.
Thinking of Mama.
Thinking if I'd ever see her again…
Thinking if there was anything of her left.
I took off my buttoned jacket and hugged it close, pressing myself to the faint scent she left behind.
Tears slid down the bridge of my nose to the tip…