The Escape of Layla

"If you're a maid, you're always heading north to the castle."

The librarian told me Monica's whereabouts, even though she looked frightened of me somewhere without leaking into the example. Speaking of the north wing, it's a private place with your father's study and private room. It was surprising that Monica had headed that way, just not a place where servants liked and approached unless they had business.

Even I don't really go to the north wing. I avoided it naturally because there is also a good chance of face-to-face with my father just because it is his private space. I'm not obviously avoidable where I met him face to face, but the aversion that came to my father's pale eyes did reject me.

It's strange to think that my father, who doesn't put too much emotion on the table, turns such a clear aversion to me. Father, who is often indifferent to people, but in a way does that mean he cares about me?

With that in mind, I zeroed one self-derisive grin.

Let's not. Isn't this like a child suffering without getting the love of his father? I'm 15 years old, and there's a lot of other people who love me where my father hated me. What more do you want?

The servant's appearance entered his sight, so he hurried to mend the grin as usual. Seeing one with a self-derisive grin must make him extra frightened. It was a grin from that consideration, but as always, the servant seemed to stiffen his body like he was always frightened.

"How can I help you, Your Royal Highness?"

When plugged into the north wing, a considerably older father's squire accidentally called out to him. A skilled butler whose father has served his father since he was a child.

I'm just looking for someone.

"... If you need me, please let me know and I'll take you."

That could be one hand. I'd rather take his offer honestly than just wander around your father's private space like this. But the moment I thought about it, I saw a red-haired woman in maid's clothes going too far through the corner of the hallway. Definitely, that's Monica.

"I just found it, so you don't have to. Sorry."

That's all I told the old butler, and I followed Monica early enough. If we don't hurry, we'll lose sight of her inside this big castle. I had a desire to run, but I put up with it a lot because doing that would surprise the servants.

While I was following Monica, I was being led further and further into the north wing. I've only stopped by to count. [M] Whatever, it's where your father's study is.

Father's study is famous for letting only a very limited number of people in. I rarely let people in in the first place, but I'm allowed to come in as much as Cheryl's father, the Duke of Ames, and the butler who spoke to me earlier. Even your mother says you've never been in a study.

I predict it may be because of important documents related to official business, but I was surprised that I would not allow my mother to enter the room anyway. I think everyone needs their own space, but I think they're a couple in a really cold relationship. You can say that I was born a miracle. [M]

Soon, we'll reach a distance where Monica can speak to us. That's what I thought, arrowhead, Monica stopped in front of a room.

This is convenient. If the job seems to be in a paragraph, let's ask about the tinted ribbon that was caught in this notebook. I thought so, and I packed my distance with her.

But when Monica realizes who the room is stopping, she stops by accident.

It was your father's study. Yes, she stood in front of the most secret room in this castle, where only the Duke of Ames and the older butler were allowed to enter.

Monica seemed to have easy cleaning equipment and so on, and walked straight into her father's study wondering if she had knocked on the door. Now, I breathe unexpectedly into that sight that I did see with my own eyes.

Does Monica say she's in a position to be allowed into that room? Was it because she was a maid with a father that I rarely saw Monica in the castle? To that inference, I feel nature and pulse are quickening.

I couldn't follow Monica as she disappeared into the study. Instead, however, he approached the door of the study and asked what he should do. Father should be in the lookout for business by now. Monica will be a maid who is allowed to enter the study in the absence of the Lord.

If it's in the name of cleaning, that's not unusual, but it's still just this study. Although it is natural that someone maintains the environment in this secret room because Father can't even imitate a servant, I didn't think that "someone" was Monica.

So did Monica not say much about the job? I was still hard to calm down in my mind about the unexpected duties being imposed on Monica, who I thought was a very normal maid.

Monica can enter the coloured ribbon, the anemone, and Father's study. I feel so uncomfortable today that I keep touching the secrets of this castle.

But it's also too pitiful to wait here like this. Monica seems busy, so even if we give up talking, at least we have to return this notebook.

Never, ever, knock on a heavily decorated door. I didn't hear one of Monica's footsteps that was soundproof or would be indoors, and only the strangely sooner heart sounds made me aware.

No reply, I accidentally swallowed a spit at the door that slowly opened. I see Monica staring at me with Hazel's eyes round at me at the end of that door, and I still feel incredible.

Inside the study, a bright sunset plugged in. I thought important paperwork and such would be scattered, but there are too many qualitative indoors to work in, and books arranged on shelves are also more private than for official business, such as novels.

But most importantly, it was one painting that was taking my eye.

One portrait illuminated by the sunset. Seeing the person depicted there makes me more and more confused by the thought of "why not".

Yes, the painting depicted a very beautiful girl wearing all the contraindications of this castle. It was a portrait of a poor lady with good flax hair tied up, a fine dress wrapped in colour, and a bouquet of anemones in her hand.

Because of so much shock, I thought I'd been staring at that painting for a long time, but I guess it was actually just for a moment. When Monica admits to me, she hurries back and closes the study door, rather than stuffing it with a blue face. I found her always calm, disturbed.

"Ah... sorry, Monica. I wanted to deliver this..."

I apologized with my mouth, but my head was full of portraits that only caught my eye for a moment. Every question goes round and round, strangely unrealistic.

Monica never touched the notebook she offered, and moved her hand to stare at me.

'Have you seen it?

"... what?

"... the painting in the study."

Monica asks me as she quickly moves her hand and sends a signal.

I'm sure that was something you shouldn't have seen. As much as I would guess that, that portrait was certainly shocking.

"... sorry, I saw that. Beautiful, my lady."

Monica leaned down gently with the study door closed behind her back. Seeing that look, I realized I should apologize more seriously, but it was a question coming out of curiosity that came out of my mouth.

"Who the hell is that? How do you relate to your father, young lady?

At least, I've never seen a similar woman in the social world. Maybe it's an old portrait, but if you're a lady with such beautiful flax hair, you do remember the contraindications of this castle combined.

"To Your Highness, it's an unrelated story."

That was a rare rejection attitude for Monica. But that's the only woman who showed contraindications. I couldn't just back off as I was, just to be presumed to have some deep cause.

"I won't tell anyone. Just tell me, Monica."

Somehow, I don't know if the reason for the alienation I've felt in this castle for 15 years lies in that painted girl. That's why I was desperate.

"... I don't like being out of company anymore, Monica. Please..."

Gently hold Monica's hand and plead. I know very well that it's a cunning way to go. Restricting her two-handed freedom without a voice is tantamount to taking away words.

Monica's hands were very warm and soft. Her fingertips, slightly trembling, wrap gently around to calm her down.

At some point, my hand was bigger than Monica's. Painfully with the passage of time, I tried to peek into Monica's hazel eyes and waited for her answer.

In the evening, time passes in a position that is likely to be misleading if people see it. When the shadow for the two leaned slightly, Monica finally shook her neck weakly and vertically. If you try to escape from my hand and move your hand, it will send a signal somewhere unreliable. [M]

"It'll be a long time, so let's go to the library."

"... okay, Monica"

Monica smiled weakly as if she were a girl, slowly sending her signals.

'... Yes. I, too, may have really wanted to speak to His Highness. The tragedy of that poor princess and your majesty. "

I felt my heart jump on that look. I have a sweet feeling that you're trying to share a secret with me in this situation.

On the other hand, there was growing tension over Monica's choice of words: tragedy. I guess I'll learn the secret of the castle's contraindications from now on. If Monica doesn't mind telling me, it could be something I've never known in my life. That being the case, I can't bear to thank Monica for telling me her secrets, even though they took on a somewhat forceful form.

"... thanks, Monica"

With Monica's vague smile on her face, she mouths the words of thanks as she thought. Monica looked at me and I knew she just smiled weakly.

As it was, I walked side by side with her in the evening light to an unpopular library.