9. Be yourself

The sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains was enough to disturb Zean in his sleep. He moved his hand to block the rays that were quite painful to his eyes. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to the side, there was no figure who from that night onwards would share a bed with him. Just as Zean was about to scan around to find Helga’s figure, the person had already opened the door from the outside.

“You're awake?” Greeted Helga who already looked neat in that dark green knee-length dress.

Zean groaned. He sat on the bed while leaning against the headboard. He spontaneously closed his eyes when Helga audaciously swept aside the large window curtains, even opening the glass sliding door.

“It's already noon, Young Master,” Helga welcomed, sounding sarcastic.

“Is something wrong with you?” Zean asked in wonder, pushing aside his thick blanket and getting off the bed. “Yesterday, you were tame, like a frightened cat. Now, you are like a lion ready to pounce,” he continued while standing and approaching Helga.

One of Helga's eyebrows rose. “Do you want me to be tame and fearful, or me who is like a lion but brave?” Helga asked.

Zean further closed the distance between them, standing face to face with Helga. He realized that the girl was indeed the same, without any other personality. No. Helga was still the same except that compared to yesterday, she had camouflaged herself to be braver.

For a few moments in that position, Zean assessed Helga’s facial expression which was indeed undaunted, as if she was tired of being the submissive figure.

“Tell me, what is behind your attitude today compared to yesterday,” Zean said without changing his position in front of Helga.

A thin smile appeared on Helga’s face. The girl also folded both arms in front of her chest, returning Zean’s gaze just as sharply.

“Why? If I am brave, is that a threat? You want to protect me, right? Okay. I will not just sit idly by and hide behind your back, Young Master. I will only protect myself. I realize, the world I have entered is full of traps, gunshots, and perhaps even more than that. Compared to the previous world. So I think, instead of a weak feminine girl, I will be more comfortable showing how I am. How about it?”

That explanation was considered by Zean for a few moments. He then nodded his head.

“You know, right, the world you have come to is a dark world whose contents are more dangerous than happy?” Zean asked to make sure.

“Yes, I know. Therefore, I decided to be myself.”

“And what is that self of yours like?”

For a moment Helga fell silent, thinking about what kind of character her own self was.

“Like … a lion, maybe?” A thin smile formed a cunning smirk on her lips as Helga described her own characteristics like a lioness.

Zean was silent, that cold gaze with a flat expression seemed unaffected by Helga’s cunning smirk.

“That means, whatever happens later, you will be ready to do anything?” Zean asked.

“More than anything, as long as you want to teach me something for self-defense. And …,” Helga’s gaze directed straight into Zean’s pupils. “What kind of secret am I holding?”

Helga was perceptive, it was impossible if she was protected without holding onto something.

There was no immediate response from Zean who just remained silent returning Helga’s gaze.

“Something that can make you die in an instant,” he answered coldly and firmly.

This time Helga was silent, mute. Somehow, the hair on her neck stood up hearing what Zean said. Fear suddenly crept over her. But then Helga nodded and turned her face away.

“Okay, no problem. I will face whatever it is,” she said in response.

“Good then. It wasn't in vain that I bought you from your crazy father,” Zean said uncurling his arms in front of his chest.

Helga’s attention returned to Zean. “Ah, about that, let me remind you, Young Master,” she said. “That crazy man will continue to take your money even if you bought me from him. He, will still take advantage of you,” she continued giving a warning.

Zean instead scoffed. “Go away. I'm going to shower.”

“A shower is a shower, why are you kicking me out?” Helga grumbled.

“What did you say?” That cold and heavy tone interrupted Helga.

“Nothing. I will tidy up this blanket first and have breakfast,” Helga said with a forced thin smile.

Zean did not respond and chose to go to the bathroom to clean himself then go to the office.

Helga herself rolled her eyes lazily as soon as Zean disappeared behind the bathroom door in that spacious room.

Zean came down from the upper floor in a neat suit, his hair still slightly wet and combed back. The house atmosphere that morning seemed different, too quiet for a mafia’s house. When his feet stepped on the dining room floor, a fragrant aroma from the kitchen made his steps slow down.

It wasn't the aroma of sachet coffee usually prepared by the servant. This, was the scent of sautéed onions, broth, and something fresh from the kitchen.

Zean walked towards the dining room and his eyes found the dining table already neatly set. Not just bread and milk like usual, but there was a plate of cheese omelet, warm rice, clear soup with pieces of carrot and chicken, as well as black coffee with steam still billowing.

And Helga. Standing behind the table with an apron on her body. Her green dress was now covered by a simple white apron, and her hair was tied in a low ponytail. She looked ordinary, but it was precisely from that simplicity that Zean felt something disturbing.

“Who cooked this?” Zean asked while walking to the head chair of the table.

“I did,” Helga answered lightly, then pulled a chair for Zean.

Zean stared at her for a moment, then sat down. “Is it necessary to show off just to show you aren't spoiled?”

“No,” Helga replied while taking off her apron. “I just don't like being seen as a burden. Besides, this is my home too now, isn't it?”

Zean stirred his coffee slowly, his eyes stared at the contents of the cup but his mind was who knows where.

“Aren't you afraid of poisoning your own husband?” he asked coldly, but there was a subtle teasing tone there.

“If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it more easily last night, while you were asleep,” Helga replied quickly, sitting in the chair opposite him. “But no. I just want you to know, I can take care of myself. And if necessary, take care of you too.”

Zean spooned the soup slowly. The taste was right, not too salty, warm, and, like home-made.

“You want to be a real wife?” he asked softly.

Helga looked at Zean, then nodded. “I'm not asking for your love, Young Master. But if I indeed have to live through this, I want to do it with dignity. Not as a doll, nor as a victim.”

Zean did not answer. He stared at Helga for a long time, and for the first time, his eyes seemed not as stiff as usual.

“You know, Helga … that bravery of yours is like a double-edged sword.”

“And I am ready to bear the wound,” Helga answered quietly, but full of conviction.

Silence for a moment between them. Only the sound of spoons and the clinking of glasses was heard. But in that silence, a silent acknowledgment began to grow: that two hearts that never asked to be united, were slowly searching for a way to understand a new form of 'us' that would never be possible. Because deep in the bottom of Zean's heart, one name was kept. A name whose position was replaced by Helga's presence.