Azurel, restless from the silence in the house, found himself wandering toward the courtyard where the maid was quietly working. Her fearful reactions had intrigued him ever since he arrived. Perhaps it was time to break the ice, he thought.
He approached her with soft footsteps. "Bonsoir, mademoiselle," he greeted her in French, his tone that of a perfect gentleman. She flinched at his voice, her hand trembling as she turned to face him.
Azurel's blue eyes fixed on her, and despite his gentle demeanor, she couldn't help but feel intimidated by the foreignness of him—the stark contrast of his blonde hair and piercing eyes with everything she was used to. Her heart raced, and she tried to back away subtly.
He noticed her nervousness and, in an attempt to put her at ease, reached for her hand. "You have no reason to fear me," he said.
The maid's eyes widened in surprise, not used to such formalities, especially when his lips brushed her knuckles in a formal gesture.
"I'm... I'm sorry," she stammered, trying to pull her hand away.
Azurel held it firmly but gently, his gaze never leaving hers. "There is no need to be afraid," he said softly, though his intensity remained. "I only wish to talk."
Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to understand his words, his touch, his intensity. She was used to the stern but familiar ways of Ilyas, the protective warmth he radiated, not this chilling, foreign gentleness that came with Azurel's gaze.
"Why do you tremble so? You weren't like this with Ilyas."
She kept her eyes downcast, unable to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry, my lord," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Look at me," Azurel demanded softly but firmly.
The maid hesitated before lifting her gaze to meet his. Her fear of his otherworldly blue eyes overwhelmed her once again. He was nothing like Ilyas. The foreigner's presence was too strong, too intimidating.
She took a small step back.
As Azurel stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking, she could sense the weight of his intentions. "Tell me, maid," he said, his voice smooth like silk, "what do you think of me?"
Her heart pounded, the question hanging heavy in the air. Did he want her to confess her fear, or was he fishing for admiration? Before she could respond, a sharp voice broke through the tension.
"What is going on here?" It was Ilyas. He stood tall in the doorway, a manservant by his side, his dark eyes narrowing at the sight of his brother so close to the trembling maid, who was barely holding herself together.
Ilyas stormed over, his presence powerful and commanding, instantly pulling the maid's attention from Azurel. Ilyas's expression was hard to read, his face calm but his gaze piercing. He had clearly seen everything.
He stepped forward, his gaze flicking between Azurel and the maid. "Why are you acting this way?" Ilyas's voice was cold, laced with frustration. "Azurel has done nothing to harm you, yet you behave as though he's committed a crime."
The maid's heart shattered at his words. She had never wanted to offend Ilyas, but before she could respond, she nodded and hurried back into the house. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions.
Later, Jasmina, having heard the commotion, confronted her.
"What did you do to upset Ilyas and Azurel?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
"I... I didn't mean to," the maid stammered, her voice trembling.
The manservant turned to Jasmina, bowing respectfully as he explained, "My lady, the maid's conduct has been... inappropriate in response to Lord Azurel's kindness."
As the words sank in, the maid collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "No, please, my lady!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I did not mean to disrespect Lord Azurel... I-I was frightened, I—" Her words came out in a torrent, but it was clear that she was helpless, too overwhelmed to explain herself properly.
But Jasmina's patience had worn thin. "Enough!" she snapped. "You've humiliated us in front of a guest—this is the last time I will tolerate your incompetence."
The maid's breath hitched as Jasmina's stern gaze bore down on her, leaving her feeling smaller than ever. "You are no longer welcome in this house. Leave."
"No! Please!" The maid sobbed, her hands clutching at the hem of her wet dress.
Jasmina motioned to the manservant, who quickly ushered the maid toward the door, her cries barely audible over the sound of the rain outside.
She stumbled into the pouring rain, the cold droplets mingling with her tears. She stood there, shivering and heartbroken, not knowing where to go or what to do.
As the rain soaked her to the bone, she couldn't shake the memory of Azurel's intense gaze and Ilyas's angry scolding. Her admiration for Ilyas now felt like a distant dream, replaced by a deep sense of despair. She had lost her place in Jasmina's house and the tenuous connection she had felt with Ilyas, all because of her fear and the overwhelming presence of Azurel.
The storm raged on, mirroring the turmoil in her heart, as she tried to find a way to move forward in a world that suddenly felt so much colder and more unforgiving.
*****
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