ELARA
My heart raced. For how long had he been watching?
His gaze fell to my dress, then to my face. His eyes were grey, almost silver.
"You should not be here." He spoke, voice deep, calm and measured.
"I—I saw the roses." I jumbled for words. "And I got carried away."
"I am sorry." I managed to say.
He looked down at the rose in my hands.
He turned away. "Leave."
I didn't wait to hear it twice. I walked away, my legs threatening to give up. I wanted to run, but I stayed composed. I didn't look back till I felt out of sight. Only then did I realize my hands were trembling.
***
The next morning, the rose was in small vase of fresh clean water. They enchanted me but also haunted me. Yesterday in the garden— his empty gaze, his soulless voice, his calm presence that commanded the air.
There was a knock on the door.
"Miss Elara," a familiar voice called.
Grace stepped in her face brightened. Her presence felt like sunshine and rainbow in the dim atmosphere.
"Grace," I said through a smile
She stood at the door. "I brought someone to see you."
My Interest peaked. Grace opened the door and another maid walked in her head bowed.
"This is my friend Isa," She introduced. "She fell in love with the perfume you made me and she wanted to ask if she could have some."
"Good Morning Miss," Isa greeted.
Isa was quiet, a contrast to Grace's bubbly personality.
Father would be proud if he knew my perfume had gained such attention.
"Hello Isa," I greeted. "What kind of scent would you want? Do you have any flowers in mind?"
Isa was quiet and then spoke, "I don't know... something quiet."
"Hmm..." I searched through my mental scent library. "A White Rose"
Grace's face lit up, "You see? I told you she was good."
Isa smiled faintly. Her gaze met with the rose in the vase and her smile dropped.
"Where did you get that Rose?" She asked.
I hesitated. "Um... There was a garden of red roses— at the east side of the yard."
Grace and Isa exchanged glances, like I had said something forbidden.
"What happened?" I asked concerned.
They both went quiet.
Then Isa finally spoke, "No one is allowed freely into the east wing."
"Oh..."
She continued. "And that rose garden belongs only to the Master of the house. He had just returned from his voyage last evening."
"I can count how many times I have laid my eyes on it in my 6 months here," Grace added.
Why did this place hold so many secrets?
"Do you know why?" my voice softened.
They exchange glances and eyes were unreadable.
Grace finally spoke, "We are not allowed to say," her gaze dropping to the ground.
I didn't push further. Silence filled the room
And then Grace asked "Did anyone see you?"
I wondered if I should tell, "Yes," My voice almost a whisper. "Master of the house caught me."
The air went silent as if I had delivered bad news.
"What did he do?"
I thought back to the way he looked a me with nothing in his eyes and how he seemed interested in the dress and the rose. "Nothing."
They went silent, like they didn't know what to say next. I had a question.
"How is he like?"
They went silent in thought. "Honestly, I don't know." Grace said. "I haven't interacted with him much."
"He is quiet," Isa spoke. "He doesn't seem to get angry, sad or happy. He is just straight-faced."
"Maybe it is because of his condition." Grace added.
"What condition?"
"Even I am not too sure, we only hear rumors that he becomes insane once a month. I don't know how true it might be."
***
The full moon rose high above the garden of red roses, and the chirpings of the cricket cut through the airy silence. I knelt to meet the roses, the silver glow coated the red petals. Its scent was strong and intoxicating. I picked out a stem of rose.
"Ow!"I said as a thorn pierced my finger. I put the wounded finger in my mouth.
The bushes rattled and I turned to see a shadow, it looked like him. I held tightly onto the rose, its thorn pierced into my skin and streaks of red slid down my hands, dropping onto my white dress. He did not speak, his eyes were empty, they glowed like the moon.
The next moment, he was before me, I felt his warmth, but the air stuck in my throat. His hands were on my neck, they strangled me.
"S—Stop..." I pleaded.
I searched his eyes— nothing.
The rose fell off my bloodied hands as they struggled to rip his fingers off. My oxygen thinning and thinning by the second.
I sprung up the bed with a gasp. My hands touched my neck the feeling of tension lingered. It felt real—too real. I still felt the sting of the thorns on my fingers but there was nothing, no thorn, no wound, no blood.
The red rose sat in the vase, on the window sill, the glow of the night illuminating its petals. The breeze swept my skin sending chills down my spine. I felt watched.
I checked the locks on the door— unlocked. I had sworn that I locked the door before I slept, I always did. But somehow this night, I didn't.
***
Raphael Zarek, the Master of the House, had just returned from his voyage overseas. The manor had to feel just like he had left it.
Raphael strutted the pathways heading to his personal study, Sir Bennet beside him, filling him on the status of the maintenance of the Manor.
The atmosphere looked the same, just like it was meant to— orderly, quiet, structured.
The air went still around him and the workers gave bows and curtsies whenever they sighted him.
He picked a scent, unfamiliar with the environment, but he had smelled it before. In the rose garden...
He looked around and his eyes laid on a lady, she was in the white dress. The same lady who trespassed his garden and took a rose.
She left a scent, like flowers and herbs and human, it disrupted the scent of his red roses and lingered, not strong enough to define but soft enough to be noticed. He didn't like that.
She was headed to the main garden.
In his study, just below his window. He stepped close for some fresh air, and his gaze met with white, in the midst of the greens and flowers. The white dress.
She held a water can and tilted it on the flowers and greens. Her scent— it lingered faintly.
***
Elara had noticed the shift in the environment, everyone seemed to be on edge since the master's arrival. She had not seen him since that evening in the rose garden and hoped she would never come across him.
Isa and Grace had told her some rumors about him, some called him a monster, some said he was heartbroken, some still saw him as a mystery. She didn't know what to believe.
Something in her believed that in those cold eyes, there was a human. Maybe he only opened up to those in his inner circle, maybe he was misunderstood, just maybe he was hurting but, he couldn't have been a monster—no one was.
***
That morning in his study, Raphael was going through documents on his desk when a maid stepped in with a basket of flowers, to replace the withering ones in his vase.
He picked the strange scent again, this time on the fresh flowers.
"Where did these flowers come from?" He asked.
"They were picked from the main garden this morning Master." She replied, head bowed.
Even the flowers had begun to pick her scent. He would always spot her in the greens, from late morning till dusk. Why someone would spend their entire time in a garden?
***
ELARA
The sun was setting and I headed to the main garden. I had to check on the bare patches, they had started to grow but weeds had also begun to spring.
I entered into the garden and I spotted an unfamiliar person, on the benches. The Master of the house. His gaze was on me. Oh no!
I quickly lowered my gaze and gave a curtsy, the scent of his perfume lingered. Smelled like leather, and musk and some scents I couldn't recognize.
"I was just coming to uproot some weeds." I spoke. "I will come another time."
I turned to leave.
"You don't have to leave," He spoke. "You can do whatever you came here for."
The air went tense, I did not feel comfortable. I tried not to look him in the eye, he mustn't find out I was the girl who trespassed into his garden. I headed to the bare patch behind the bushes. I pulled the weeds and put them away. His perfume, I could smell it—wonderful composition.
I gazed at him with the corner of my eyes, he was busy with a paper in his hands. Maybe he came here for business. His gaze met mine and I quickly directed my eyes to the ground.
"What are you always doing here?" He asked.
Was he talking to me? His eyes were on me. He was talking to me...
I stood upright and lowered my gaze to the ground. Did he remember me?
"I came here to check on the flowers." I answered quietly.
"Why?" he asked again. "You're not the gardener."
"In my home, we have a nursery. I tend to the flowers." I continued. "My father is a perfumer."
He was silent. Then asked, "So, you raise the flowers to crush them?"
Wait— what logic was that? Perfumery was never about crushing flowers.
"I wouldn't call it crushing," I interjected.
I didn't know if my opinion would be welcomed but I spoke anyway.
"I see it as sharing their essence in more places than they can reach."
"Would they want to share scent, if it means their lives are cut short?" He asked again.
I walked over to the peonies, and brushed their leaves.
"This is why we, only take just enough and not too much," I replied. "Just like life, flowers bloom and their petals fall off and wither anyway."
"We take something inevitable and turn it into something worthwhile." I added.
Silence filled the air. I turned him,
"You know... Flowers give permission too."
"How?" He asked.
"They are living like us," I answered looking back at them. "When you speak to them softly and treat them with care and respect, they bloom and naturally give back to you."
I looked at him.
"Are you also interested in flowers?" I asked.
"No," He answered. "I just wanted to know."
He stood from the bench about to leave.
"You're doing good," he complimented, his tone a contrast to his words.
He left the garden. His presence still heavy in the air.
He was reserved and didn't speak much, but I did not see the monster others spoke about.