Iris POV
As I looked at him, I felt a strange mix of sadness and a kind of warm affection deep in my heart. It was an unusual feeling, but it was there. Finally, feeling quite sad myself, I quietly left the room. The silence of the big old mansion wrapped around me like a thick blanket as I made my way back to my room.
I stayed in bed for a long time, listening to the quietness of the night. Rafaelle's words kept coming back to me, over and over again, like a song that sticks in your head.
He had spoken to me with complete honesty, showing his true feelings in a way that was very open and sincere. It was something I had never seen from him before, and it made a strong impression on me.
Our journey together started in a way that was anything but romantic. It all began with a contract and a transaction, a necessary arrangement in the strange and dangerous world we found ourselves in. However, as time went by, I started to realize that I was inexplicably drawn to him, even though there was a darkness surrounding him that was hard to ignore.
Occasionally, I would catch brief glimpses of a different side of him—a glimpse of a man who was more than just the ruthless exterior he often presented. I began to see that he was not only capable of terrible cruelty but also could show kindness and unexpected gentleness.
In those brief moments, I discovered something remarkable I found a reflection of myself in him. I saw the scared girl I used to be, the one who had been thrust into this perilous way of living.
I also recognized the woman I was starting to become, slowly beginning to flourish beneath the uncertain protection he offered me, even though it was accompanied by a sense of fear.
He was gradually becoming different, just like he had mentioned before. And as I thought about it, I came to understand that I was changing as well. I was adjusting to the tough and challenging reality of the life we were both living together.
We were each looking for a way to get away from the darkness that had wrapped around our lives, hoping to discover a tiny bit of light in the heavy and overwhelming sadness that surrounded us.
But could we? Could we truly be free?
The question stayed in my mind for a long time, like a hurt that wouldn’t go away, making me feel both sad and happy at the same time. As time went on, I began to feel tired, and eventually, I fell asleep.
In my dreams, pieces of Rafaelle's confession and the tangled, confusing details of our relationship floated around. It felt haunting, like a reminder of how delicate and intertwined our fates were with each other.
The next morning, as the sun began to rise, its soft and gentle light started to fill the sky with beautiful colors of pink and gold. Even though it was early, I was already awake because I felt a slight restlessness pushing me to get out of bed.
The usual peaceful quiet of the house, which I usually found to be very comforting, felt a little bit strange and unsettling to me on this particular morning. This feeling made me want to get up and welcome the new day that was beginning.
As I carefully walked down the large staircase, I noticed a lovely smell in the air. It was a warm and cozy mix of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked bread. This delightful aroma was so inviting that it acted like a beacon, guiding me toward the kitchen where I hoped to find something good to eat and drink.
Maria, who worked as Rafaelle's loyal and always willing maid, was a woman whose age brought her a kind of wisdom that felt just as soothing and comforting as a cozy warm blanket. She was already busy doing her morning tasks.
Her actions in the kitchen were smooth and well-practiced, creating a harmonious sense of efficiency in the quiet of the early morning. The moment she spotted me, a bright and cheerful smile spread across her face, making the room feel even friendlier.
“Iris, my dear,” she said with excitement in her voice, which sounded sweet and warm, much like a lovely song that felt comforting.
“I am so happy to see you awake and moving around at this early hour. Please, come along and join me in the kitchen. We can make the pastries together, and it will be such a lovely way to begin our day.”
I smiled back at her, feeling a warmth growing inside of me, even though I still felt a bit uneasy about what had happened the night before.
Maria’s kind and sincere affection was like a gentle remedy, making my worries feel a little less sharp. “I would be truly happy to do that, Maria,” I said, my voice filled with thankfulness.
We stood next to each other in the kitchen, busy preparing the pastries we were going to bake. As we worked, our hands moved in perfect harmony, like dancers performing a beautiful routine. The kitchen around us was filled with comforting sounds that made the atmosphere feel cozy and inviting.
I could hear the gentle clinking of metal spoons and mixing bowls as they touched each other, and the soft sizzling noise coming from the oven as it warmed up. It all combined to create a lovely symphony of sounds that wrapped around us like a warm blanket, filling the space with a sense of peace.
Maria, who was full of stories and memories from her life, began to share some of her childhood experiences. She told me vibrant tales about the times she spent baking with her mother, and her words painted a bright and lively picture of those moments in her past.
In response, I shared snippets of my own life with her, whispering about the days before everything shifted before my journey had crossed paths with Tudor's and, eventually, with Rafaelle's. We exchanged our stories, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and memories as we continued our baking adventure together.
Maria looked at Iris with a sparkle in her eyes and a big smile that reminded her of a warm loaf of bread right out of the oven. She said, “Iris, it seems like you are starting to feel at home here at last. It makes me so happy to see you getting comfortable and finding your place within these walls.”