Tenderness and Care

Aideen stood before the crackling fireplace in her recently acquired room. Her bare feet sank into the plush warmth of a dead animal's fur, spread across the floor like a luxurious carpet. Adjusting the thin shawl that persistently slid down her slender shoulders, she could not help but marvel at the stark contrast between the chilling weather beyond the castle's walls and the comforting ambiance within her bedroom. It felt considerably cozier compared to her previous quarters in Count Crueder's mansion.

Reflecting on her three-day stay, Aideen pondered the intentions of Duke Valentine once more. 

"If he intends to confine me like this, why not adhere to the initial plan and send me to the Temple?" She questioned the purpose of squandering resources, both in terms of food and warmth, on a mere prisoner like herself.

As the princess grappled with her growing frustration, restlessness and fear began to take hold. 

Aideen refrained from complaining, deeming it unfair in her current circumstances. She found herself in the comfort of a warm abode, with regular meals provided every few hours. A dedicated and caring maid attended to her every need, even when Aideen hadn't explicitly requested assistance.

Her thoughts were muddled with confusion.

Yet, she could not deny the appealing quality of her room. 

"The room is very nice, indeed..."

Spending the past few days confined to her quarters, Aideen decided to engage in an activity she cherished the most – memorization.

The princess meticulously committed every detail of her new surroundings to memory. She counted eleven steps to gauge the room's length and eight for its width. Along the wall, four tall but narrow windows adorned the space, their glass possessing a thickness and texture that, under the gentle touch of her hands, revealed intricate patterns reminiscent of flowers and leaves.

The thick, long velvet curtains that adorned the windows offered a pleasant tactile experience and provided ample protection against the biting winter winds that might dare to seep through the tiniest cracks in the window frames.

Aideen's bed boasted impressive dimensions. When stretched out, she could sprawl comfortably across it, with both her feet and head cradled on its soft surface. Positioned against the wall, it faced a vast fireplace seamlessly integrated into the room's structure.

Every piece of furniture, from the bedstands and small tables to the chairs and shelves, boasted a craftsmanship of finely polished wood. Each item was decorated with intricate carvings featuring bizarre ornaments of flowers and shapes, some of which challenged Aideen's recognition.

Every element within her room exuded an antique charm, meticulously maintained with a sense of care. Bedsheets were changed daily, a seemingly unnecessary ritual, and surfaces received a diligent dusting, perhaps in consideration of the princess's constant interactions with her surroundings. Aideen found herself inundated with new, fresh clothes and warm shawls, despite her contentment with a simple winter dress that adequately covered her body.

What surprised her the most, was the constant presence of flowers in the vase next to her bed. They were always fresh and smelled like snow while their large round petals and leaves were soft and smooth as if they were covered in velvet. 

Bella, the amiable and attentive maid, persisted in bringing Aideen hot meals, adopting a nurturing, almost parental approach to ensure the princess regained her strength. However, Aideen, content with the reliability of hot milk and a slice of soft bread, remained steadfast in her preferences.

Despite the passage of time, Duke Tillian Valentine had yet to make a single visit. The princess, yearning to unravel the purpose behind her presence in his castle, refrained from repeating her initial request to meet him after the polite denial. The intriguing mystery fueled Aideen's curiosity, yet a lingering reluctance kept her from mustering the courage to inquire once more.

***

"Is the water to your liking, Your Highness? If it's too hot, I can promptly fetch more cold water for you!"

Bella immersed her right arm into the bathtub, a playful tongue poking out slightly as she focused on gauging the water's temperature.

"The water is perfect, thank you, Bella."

Aideen formed a reserved smile, her lips tinged with a rosy hue. In response, the maid emitted a brief, almost inaudible sigh, persisting in delicately sliding a soft, soapy towel over the princess's body.

Aideen was already well-acquainted with that particular sigh — a subtle blend of disapproval and gentle reprimand. It was the sound Bella made when frustrated with the young woman's hesitancy and lack of confidence in expressing her desires and needs.

This time, Aideen's sincerity was unmistakable. It marked the first occasion in her memory when the bathwater enveloped her in a comforting warmth, inducing a genuine relaxation. It was a stark contrast to the cold water she had become accustomed to in Count Crueder's mansion—a chilling experience that left her perpetually tense, always trembling, and eagerly counting the seconds until her escape.

Bella's touch exuded gentleness and thoughtfulness. It seemed as if she harbored a fear that even the slightest forceful gesture might break the princess or inflict unbearable pain. This was a far cry from the maids at the Count's mansion, whose actions seemed designed to induce pain, with constant pressing, scratching, and pinching on the most sensitive areas covered with painful bruises and wounds.

Aideen, immersed in the warmth of the water and Bella's considerate touch, couldn't help but wonder. Not once had Bella mentioned her bruises and scars. Was she not appalled by them? What did she think of Aideen's body? Did she feel a sense of disgust? The meticulous care exhibited by Bella left Aideen feeling a peculiar mix of comfort and curiosity—a sensation that felt both foreign and intriguing.

Even Vira, the sole maid in Count Crueder's mansion considerate enough to treat Aideen's body with a modicum of respect, couldn't resist remarking on its perpetual state of horribleness. In stark contrast, Bella displayed an unwavering acceptance. Whether washing her or applying ointments and balms directly onto exposed skin, Bella approached the task with an admirable lack of hesitation.

Upon completing her morning attire duties, Bella stood before Aideen and, in a gentle voice, inquired, 

"Your Highness, would you like to have some breakfast today? Martin, the castle's cook, prepares an excellent stew that would undoubtedly be gentle on your stomach."

The mere mention of "stew" sent shivers down the princess's spine. Lingering memories of the vile taste of crushed insects and dirty water haunted her, causing her stomach to convulse with painful pangs of sickness. 

"No, thank you. I am not hungry."

Recognizing that feigning disinterest in food would be a safer route, Aideen chose to pretend she had no appetite. This decision aimed to spare the maid from disappointment and shield herself from potential reprimands for rejecting the pre-prepared meal, regardless of its quality.

Bella, sharp-witted and perceptive, had already discerned the subtle patterns in the young woman's behavior. She shook her head, a tinge of sadness coloring her expression, understanding the concealed reasons behind Aideen's reluctance.

However, this morning, the resourceful maid had an additional card up her sleeve. Tenderly holding Aideen's small, pale hands in hers, she made another attempt, saying, 

"Then, would you like me to take you on a tour of the castle, Your Highness?"

Aideen couldn't conceal her genuine excitement as the prospect of leaving her room finally materialized. In an unexpectedly loud volume for both herself and the maid, she joyfully exclaimed, 

"I can finally go out? Truly?!"