Chapter 2: Bouquet of Hyacinths

There was no other dream after Artemisia returned to sleep, only the warm and silent darkness. In the morning he woke up with a crow pecking at the window, making the annoying sound echo through the room. With a lot of name-calling, taken directly from a tavern, the girl opened the damn window and cursed further when the animal flew away.

Sighing irritated, the blonde began to take off her sweater and underwear. He didn't care much if some maid was going to show up, which was commonly happening. In the first week the girl was uncomfortable and curious as to why the maids always came into the room in the morning, sometimes Artemisia just wanted to get naked watching the sunrise.

But it didn't take long to figure out it was a mansion rule. The girl didn't ask much about the rule, as her great aunt had been found in the morning. Maybe she'd be dead too.

After a cold and time-consuming bath, a good makeup to hide how terrible it was, Artemisia came down to the kitchen praying that the cook was gossiping with the other maids. All the blonde wanted was not to have to communicate with anyone until at least 3:00 p.m., which was the damn tea time at Mrs. Montenegro's house.

Just to imagine a room full of women, from debutantes to matriarchs, with some of their spouses or lovers, gossiping even about the first lady's underwear (and also about the rumors of the mayor being actually bald and wearing a very peculiar wig). When they weren't gossiping, the women were filling the bag with Artemisia for still wearing corset and dress that fell right into her curves, she tried not to care when it came to that. I just answered, every time , that I liked it the most.

It wasn't like Artemisia would like to oothe tea time, talk about what was going on in town, and admire some young men discreetly; she hated that tea, those old women, and to make matters worse, they rarely had handsome men. She couldn't like that situation.

The girl came down the stairs slowly, trying to fasten her hair in a way that would look good. Stopping in front of one of the hallway mirrors, she tried some hairstyles before letting the silver blonde cascade fall down her back. Artemisia stared at her own reflection, seeing how her hair made the girl's olive skin less pale than usual, which made it easier not to put too much rouge on her cheeks. Still with the powder the dark circles insisted on appearing, the lips seemed half cracked and less red than months before. The change was greatly affecting his appearance.

Before turning around and going to the kitchen, the girl saw a dark purple spot between her shoulder and neck. It looked like she had punched her and then passed a sharp blade, leaving a clean and small cut. Artemísia spent a few more seconds looking at the bruise and the cut before quickly going to the mansion's small "pharmacy".

He didn't care about bruises, they were actually pretty common. Before moving he always had his fingertips bruised and bruised on his legs, but after arriving at his great-aunt's mansion, Artemísia left a few times for the yard.

To the girl's unhappiness, the door was locked and apparently there was no living soul in that mansion to help her. Unfortunately fate heard and held his prayers.

Luckily the blonde hair was long and bulky enough to hide that bruise, and also the afternoon tea was just over five hours away. There was still time to take care of it, there wasn't much to worry about. It wasn't like women were going to be messing around her neck, and it wasn't going to be so hot in early spring.

After convincing himself that no one would be surprised at all, Artemysia went into the kitchen almost bouncing. The first time I was completely alone, there wasn't even the screams of wild rats eating the fruits or birds seeking love for the rest of the seasons. Finally a day of peace, a day alone at the Carmesim Mansion...

The girl slowed down her steps and started looking around. She was alone. Not alone in your mother's mansion, not alone in the garden, nor locked in your room. Artemisia was alone in her great-aunt's mansion, that wasn't supposed to happen.

Walking quickly, Artemisia went to the first front door, she was locked, as the employees left at night. The girl took the sauce of keys and opened the door running into the first "corridor", where were the main door, the warehouse and the coat cabinet. She didn't bother to check the other two doors, just opened the main door and looked out the front yard looking for the gardeners or the messenger, employees, anyone. But he only found a bouquet of hyacinths on the second step of the small porch.

Something in his chest got cold. The gates were at least five meters long, and in addition to the thorns that grew on the bars, there were also triangles at the ends of the bars. There was no employee in the mansion, it meant that the gates were not opened at any time.

Looking around, almost like a prey, in search of something that might be wrong, beyond silence. She picked up the bouquet and closed the two doors quickly, looking very well not to let any strange movement escape.

The sweat began to wet her neck, the silence before cozy was now too disturbing and, for the icing on the cake, still had that strange bouquet. Artemísia took a deep breath, trying to calm the heart that was just missing to jump and run the two kilometers that paraded the city from the mansion.

— Damn crow! God, I can't even have peace on holiday! — She sat down, almost throwing herself, on the couch and picked up the bouquet to see if there was any secret admirer's note or anything else.

The smell of the hyacinths had filled the room, it was wonderful the aroma i had left there. It would only have been better if it hadn't been at such a disturbing time.

— Well you could talk, tell me who the wretched man was who decided to play this trick on me — Artemisia looked at the bouquet and buried her face in purple flowers, only feeling her scent — If I could, I would hire someone more competent to take care of the mansion.

She said against the petals, still blindly searching for some card. However it was almost like trying to cut water, the only thing he found were leaves and petals. With an angry sigh, the young woman placed the bouquet on the center table and stood up.

She might not have had a dream childhood as the sisters, did not live trying on dresses and running to the tea club, did not waltz in the debut, let alone got an engagement before the age of 20. However, Artemisia was the daughter of a former military man, a very affectionate and concerned about the only daughter of blood. Her father taught her how to use both firearms and maman weapons.

Sometimes he had heard the elders' talk about what they thought of Mrs. Yemssima, among various nonsense, conspiracy and gossip, Artemisia found out about her great-aunt's beloved collection of weapons, later found out through the servants where they stayed. It was a matter of finding out the keys, what chest they were in and voilà! A beautiful collection of daggers stood before Artemisia's face.

— Thank you, Daddy. — the young woman said softly before starting the little round on the first floor.

Even though she was the worst hunter she knew, Artemisia tried to remember all the lessons her father had given about listening to the prey, and trying not to be the prey. In the end, she usually ended up in a father's trap and the same was laughing at her. The girl was almost certain that her destiny was to be a prey, but at that moment she did not want to imagine even the beginning of the sentence.

She looked from the servants' room to the games room, looked in every possible - and impossible - corner where a person could hide. He even found out that there was a room where some kittens were staying, probably the servants kept them alive. She went down and climbed the stairs so many times that after a few minutes she forgot what she was looking for, just trying to guess which step had any paint left.