C H A P T E R : i don't play by the rules

"What are you doing?"

His words are a chilling ice.

I turn my head around to find Isak hovering over me, eyes glaring through his black shades. It's been two days since my arrival, and I'm already causing trouble. But it's not like I can help it, especially when boredom claims one's will and eventually manipulates one's actions. Ever since I've been told not to involve myself with the secret door disguised as a bookcase, the more my curiosity grows to discover its secrets— the stronger my will to defy orders become.

I offer him my innocent smile while slyly slipping the bobby pin I'm using to unlock the knob inside my skirt's pockets. I clench my fist tightly in it.

"Good morning Isak."

"It has been only a few days, and I've already caught you doing something intrusive," Isak states. His lips purse into a thin line. "If I had the power, I would punish you like I would a robber."

I raise an eyebrow, his comment making me playful. "Oh? I didn't know you were the kinky type."

He inhales sharply, sighing like a frustrated and stressed mother. "I'm visiting the village today to buy supplies. Accompany me."

"Why?" I frown. "I don't want to."

Something in his face tightens, but this time not from annoyance. Rather, it's from worry.

"It's better for you to accompany me, Mie," he replies, softening his tone. "It's safer for you to be with me anyway."

"Is this your way of asking me out?"

"I'm serious." And by the way he strains his voice, I can tell that he is. I stop my teasing. "Milord will be writing tonight."

"Writing?"

Isak begins walking, and I grudgingly follow behind him in order to understand his words. I guess the secret door can wait.

"Isak, what do you mean? Why do we need to go out when Grandpappy's writing?"

"Because things can get a little…" His voice trails off, unwilling to finish his sentence.

Damn his semantics.

"Because of what?" I press. But he doesn't take the bait. Instead, he changes the topic.

"I'll be preparing our meal tonight, Mie," he begins, leading me out of the house. I trot to catch up with his long strides since my short legs can only go so far. Noticing my struggle, he slows down his pace until we both walk side-by-side. "I want to make something delicious for Milord, as well as for yourself. Are there any particular dishes that you enjoy?"

I purse my lips. "Well, I'm not a picky eater, so I like everything. But I do enjoy pasta. Particularly—"

"Carbonara, correct?" He finishes my sentence for me, shades glancing to look at my reaction. I swear I see a small smile form on his firm lips as my face lights up.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

He shrugs. "I'm not quite sure. I just had a feeling. Anyways, carbonara shall be added to tonight's menu then."

Isak carries on to describe dinner for tonight, but my ears manage to deafen itself to his words. Instead, my attention is focused on his features, closely examining every aspect of his face. He's quite handsome, more so than I thought now that I look at him from this distance. Strangely, he exudes this mysterious aura to him, in the way where he never reveals the true nature of his eyes and the way his strong jaw always tightens as if alert. His sharp, straight nose heightens his side profile, and his small, puckered lips boast a pinkish tint that makes his mature countenance a bit more youthful.

And the way he stares off to a distance, entranced by whatever thoughts cross his mind or whatever mission that captures his attention, reminds me of him, my fiancé— the man I must forget.

I hate how I compare this beautiful, mysterious man to that bastard. Isak, in appearance, is far more charming than that coward.

Somehow, the butler seems to not catch my curious glances and stares. For a diligent and sharp-eyed man, he's quite oblivious to small things like these.

Before I knew it, my thoughts and observations cut the travel time from Grandpappy's manor to the village of Epsersein. I find myself standing in the midst of a busy marketplace, bustling with people and animals, in the same place where it was once abandoned when I first arrived.

"There's people," I say, as if I've never seen a person before. I glance at Isak. "Why are there so many people today?"

This time, he catches my looks. "It's Fane Day," he answers, and I follow his index finger pointing at a large bell tower connected to a church not far from the marketplace. "Most people are out to attend the Mass held at St. Unisham's Church while others are out in the marketplace to supply their households with enough food until next Fane Day. So, they don't have to go out during the Labor Days."

My eyes remain fixated at the tall bell tower that towers over everything and everyone in Epsersein. It's a twenty-foot white construction that boasts two large, bronze bells inside. And beside it, stands a Church with its same exterior but a little smaller, bearing white walls with beautiful sculptures of saints surrounding its sides. Something about the way it stands seems familiar, and I feel curiosity compelling me to adventure into its walls.

"Isak, do you mind if I explore the church a bit?" I ask, finding the man already busying himself with the fruit stands. I sigh, deciding that a grown woman doesn't need a permission from a man so close to her age. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then."

Just as I expected, my foreign appearance here makes heads turn as I make my way towards the largest structure in this small village. I feel many eyes harass my body, staring me down with judgement and intrigue. Normally, I'd enjoy this kind of attention. However, lately, I haven't been normal, and the kind of sideway glances they're giving me makes me feel like I'm in the middle of some junior high mosh pit rather than under a brilliant spotlight.

Their eyes make me conscious of every step I take.

The church inside is huge with about twenty or thirty pews, a red carpet marking the aisle and leading up to the green-dressed altar at the front. Unlike its exterior, the interior reveals a more homey and less pretentious atmosphere with smooth coffee walls, beautiful stained glass windows depicting the Stations on either sides of the Church, and candle stations in the entrance to light for intentions.

It reminds me of the church my parents used to take me every Sunday when I was younger. Back then, I felt at home whenever I was inside a Church or any worship area of God. But the last time I was in a Church, I was betrayed. Now, churches don't exude that kind of warmth and hospitality as it once did.

Or at least, I can't feel it anymore.

When inside, I take a small corner at the back of the church, leaning against the wall as I wait for the Mass to begin and observe as everyone files in. As I look around, examining the incredibly built building and indulging myself to the beautiful yet eerie sounds of an organ, a little girl with blonde braids approaches me, pointing a finger at my face.

"Are you a foreigner?" She asks me, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity.

I stare down at her crystal blue eyes, the kind that sparkle like a diamond underneath the sun. Her cheeks puff up like a chipmunk's as she stares wide-eyed into my soul, face filled with freckles.

I offer my best attempt at a smile. I've never really liked children.

"I guess you could say that, kiddo," I reply, glancing around. "Are you lost or something? Do you need help finding your parents?"

"Parents?" She echoes. Her head tilts out of naiveness. "What is that?"

I furrow my brows. "What do you me—"

"Susie!" Someone hisses, and as quickly as the voice speaks, the little girl named Susie is lifted from her waist by two hands and set against the chest of a tall and well-built man. My eyes immediately look up to the figure before me, finding a blonde man that looks exactly like the little girl he holds. His eyes are as wide as hers, but unlike the Susie girl, his is colored a deep and earthy brown. He smiles brilliantly like constellations in a midnight sky, charisma exploding out of him like fireworks on New Year's Eve. For some reason, I find comfort in his presence, noticing that the look he gives me is much more friendly than the ones that I have already received.

The man acknowledges me before ruffling the hair of the little girl, his brows knitting. "Don't ever leave Big Brother again, you hear?" He turns back to me, and his boyish smile returns. "I'm so sorry, Miss. Whatever my unfiltered sister said, she does not mean any of it at all."

"Oh, it's alright," I reply. "We barely had a conversation anyway."

"She's pretty, Big Brother," Susie comments, followed by another hiss from the man. Their interaction elicits a small smile from me.

"I'm Clairvoyance Cherubus, by the way," he introduces, giving a slight nod. "But most call me Roy. And this is my sister, Susanna."

Clairvoyance… that's a strange yet mystical name.

"I'm Mielle," I respond out of courtesy. "But I prefer Mie."

Again, he flashes me his smile and, as if on cue, the tower bells of the church begin to ring, announcing the beginning of Mass. His eyes glance towards the sound of the bells, bearing a look of distant reminiscence. A very subtle guilty look crosses him, but it's soon replaced by another smile as he begins to bid his farewells.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mie," he says, nodding once more. "I hope we'll be more acquainted in the future."

"Pleasure's all mine," I reply, waving as the two of them assimilate with the crowd of people filing in.

I find that young man rather charming, to say the least. Something about his friendliness and charisma channels a comforting aura around him. And that kind of person is refreshing, especially in an unfamiliar town.

As they leave, something shiny on the floor catches my attention, and I pick it up, finding a small yet beautiful purple amethyst necklace abandoned in a room of packed people. I assume it's Roy and Susie's, since it was found directly on the spot in which they once stood. My head cranes itself to find their blonde hair among the congregation, just so I can return the necklace to them. But once I do and begin my mission to return it, a stern grip lands on my shoulder, spinning me around to find dark and angry shades glaring down at me.

"What are you doing here?" Isak asks, almost growling. He's pissed, but more so than usual when I do something against his will.

"I told you I would be at the Church."

"You never said anything."

"Well, if you were listening before, then maybe you would have caught it," I snap, challenging him with my eyes. "And why does a grown-ass woman have to tell you where I'm at at all times? We hardly know each other, Isak."

"Milord tasked me with guarding you at all times."

I shove his grip off. "To guard someone doesn't mean control," I say.

"You're living in Milord's manor under his rules," Isak says, gritting his teeth. "It's about time you start acting obedient if you want to stay any longer."

I glare at him. "I don't know what set you off in a bad mood since I was gone, Isak," I begin, "but don't take your frustration out on me. And I will not obey whatever stupid rules you and Grandpappy planned out before my arrival. And I don't give a shit if I'm kicked out, since I didn't even want to be here in the first place."

His face scowls. "You will—"

His sentence is cut off by a ringing in his pocket, and he pulls out some sort of restaurant tab that buzzes tremendously in his hand. Isak's expression only worsens, forming wrinkles on his handsome face at such an early age. His eyes return to me.

"We're returning back to the manor," he says, gripping my wrist. I shake him off.

"Why?" I demand. "I thought you said it's better for us to get out of the mansion when Grandpappy's writing."

"Well, right now, we're needed there more than ever." Isak fixes his shades, one hand gripping tightly into a fist. "Because Milord has gotten into an accident."

I widen my eyes, my angry expression from earlier fading. "Accident?"

"Yes, accident," he answers. "And accidents in the manor are the deadliest."

And I didn't know what he meant until I saw it first hand, myself.