The White Mask & The Red Rose

by P Rose Weaver

  "What happened, Rusty? One moment they were behind us and then later---?"

  "It's magic, Miss. They can't follow us if they are not invited into the castle. That's the reason why we don't talk about where we come from. We don't want uninvited guests intruding on our privacy. Today was not the first time we have been followed. The closest attempt though."

  Rosabelle pulled on her scarf, frowning at Rusty's words. She was not at the least surprised that magic was involved. But this made her curiouser and curiouser. She was living in a castle barred from the outside world where no one can find it because of magic. She did not know how to make of it but she had a feeling her life was about to change…

  6

  Days had passed and it was four months into her servitude. She had no more encounters with the master but she could sometimes feel his presence nearby. She was happy about not clashing with him but she found that luck was not on her side any longer. One day, she found herself doodling on a sketch right before suppertime. She glanced up from her sketching to see a worried Miranda come into the kitchens. She was wringing her hands and Rosabelle had to ask, "Whatever is the matter, Miranda?"

  "Debbie is feeling a little under the weather. And Holly is busy taking care of Debbie. I would ask Chip but the tray is a little too heavy for him. I do not usually bring the tray. I could but--"

  Rosabelle stood up, stopping her mid-sentence. "I could bring the dinner tray to the master. Just direct me to his rooms."

  Miranda gave her a grateful smile and pointed her to the stairs leading to the other wing. Rosabelle took the food tray, covered in a silver dome. She walked up the stairs and into the far wing of the house. This was her first time here. Colors of the house decor were darker and rich. Paintings of old ancestors decorated the hallway and they seem to be staring at her. She looked away from the paintings and faced forward. She came upon a set of double doors at the end of the hallway and assumed this to be the master's bedroom. She placed the dinner tray on the hallway table and knocked. She waited a few seconds and tried once more. She knocked louder this time but there was still no answer. She glanced at the tray. Miranda had worked hard on dinner. It was a shame for it to go to waste. She will not let her friend down. She reached down and tried the door latch which gave way to her touch. She took the tray and pushed herself in. Once she was in the room, she gave a loud gasp. The room she was in was a total mess. There were ink stains on the wall. Wall paper torn and furnitures overturned.

  "What are you doing here?!" A voice came from the corner, accusing and angry. She quickly gave a curtsy, her knees trembling with fear. The tray in her hand shook slightly at her awkward position,"I brought your dinner tray, my lord."

  "Don't you know how to knock?" Came the angry voice, almost mocking.

  "I beg your pardon, my lord, but I did knock. You must have been in the other room."

  She was glad that her scarf hid her right side and she looked at him briefly beneath hooded eyes. He was still wearing the mask but his posture had relaxed when he saw the tray she was holding.

  "Leave the tray on the table and leave," he instructed after a sigh.

  She quickly did as she was told and set the tray on the table. There were books on the table and she could not help but read some of the titles. Some were about roses and the others were---

  "See anything you like?" Dry sarcasm again filled the air.

  "Forgive me, my lord. Books remind me of my sister, Isabelle. My father would give books as gifts to my sister. She loves books and roses." She hastily explained.

  "Is that why he plucked one of the roses in the garden? He tried to steal from me."

  She raised her eyes to his in defiance then lowered it when she replied, "It was for the love of his daughter. Isabelle reminds him so much of our mother and we lost her early in life. He must have been thinking about her when he did that. He regretted it almost immediately, my lord. He told me so. He is a virtuous man."

  "Virtuous? If he was so, he would have carried out his sentence instead of sending one of his daughters. And Isabelle? Would she have fared as well as you did if she was the one here?"

  Fear came over her a little. Did he somehow knew the truth that Isabelle was supposed to be here instead of her? She calmly replied, "I believe she would have been just as brave but this is irrelevant because I am here. I will hold my end of the bargain, my lord. I give you my word."

  Silence then out of the blue, he asked, "Do you miss them a lot?"

  She took a deep breath. She always clammed up when someone ask something personal from her. "What I feel is not important. Is there anything else I can assist you with, my lord?"

  He had gone to the windows overlooking the gardens, his rigid back towards her. She almost felt sorry for him as he waved her off, dismissing her. He looked so alone and vulnerable. Her need to strangle him before changed to something more endearing which surprised her. She had the urge to embrace his sorrow away. And before she might attempt to do something that would embarrass her, she walked out slowly and closed the double doors. She leaned against them, sighing in relief that nothing worse had happened. She had survived their encounter. Her heart was beating wildly and she took some moment to compose herself before heading back down to the kitchen.

  Lucas glanced at the door once it closed. He sighed. He should not have shouted at her. He must have frightened her in the process. He should apologize to her immediately. But he did not want to upset her further. He looked at the tray she brought up but he was not hungry. He heard Debbie, his chambermaid was not feeling well. He knew it was a start of something dreadful but he could not stop it. He was not able to do anything about it. He felt so helpless! He went to his books on the table and tried to find answers among them but nothing was coming to him. He swept the books from the table in frustration, flinging them to the floor. He had to find answers in a hurry or else there will be more victims to his crime. He went out of the room, in search of Pedro, the one person he knew who would patiently listen to his frustration.

  7

  It was quiet in the kitchen the next day when Rosabelle came down for breakfast. She noticed three of the servants were missing at the table. Debbie, Holly and Jenkins were not among them.

  She also found out that she was to take over Debbie's duties in bringing their master's dinner tray. Debbie apparently was still feeling sick and Holly was watching her. Rosabelle offered her services to Miranda.

  "Mother taught me some herbal remedies before she died. What exactly ails Debbie?"

  Miranda gave her smile,"Don't you worry, sweetie. Holly is managing just fine."

  Rosabelle thought for awhile before saying, "I don't mind bringing the master's tray but isn't Jenkins more appropriate in this duty?" Especially with what happened last night, she wanted to add. " I have not seen him over breakfast and dinner lately. And to be honest, it has been awhile since I last saw him. Is he well?"

  Miranda stopped midway in washing the leafy vegetables and this time her smile wavered a little as she responded, "Jenkins had to leave for a family emergency. He will be back soon."

  Rosabelle noticed Miranda giving Chip a stern look, silencing him. The boy looked at his mother curiously. He was about to comment, opening his mouth midway but Chip closed it upon seeing his mother's look. He went back to his books, ignoring Rosabelle. She felt a little hurt that she was not in the circle of confidence with the other servants. She finished the dishes and went on with her daily routine.

  Every early evening she would bring the master's dinner tray. Learning from that first day, she would knock loudly and wait until he beckoned her to come in. He would always be sitting in one of the armchairs, overlooking the gardens below, not even looking her way. She would set the tray on the table and ask if he needed anything else. He would raise one hand and wave her off, dismissing her. No words from the man behind the white mask. She did not feel afraid anymore. The white mask on the man was almost pitiful. There must be a reason why he was hiding under the mas
k. He must be disfigured like her, she thought. And that made her feel a sort of kinship with him. On the third day of serving the dinner tray, she bravely went on to straighten some of the furnitures that had fallen over. She felt her master's gaze but he did not say anything. Again, she would ask him if he needed anything else but he would dismiss her without any words. She wanted to engage him into another conversation but she was only a servant and did not want to impose herself. Besides, what would they talk about, she wondered.

  The next day, she got bolder. She cleared the table and piled his books neatly on one side. He never commented. He probably did not care anymore what she did.

  On the fifth day, she brought a duster and began dusting around the room, just waiting until he told her off but he did no such thing. She even tried to mop out the ink stains on the wallpaper with a wet cloth but to no avail. It needed replacing. She actually saw his lips curl in amusement at her attempts to clean the room.

  On the sixth day, she found a chess board under one of the overturned tables, complete with its pieces. She remembered the nights she would play with her father and she set the chess board on one of the smaller tables, arranging the pieces in their proper position. This was one thing her sister Isabelle was not good at and the one thing Rosabelle savored from her relationship with her father.

  The next day, she saw one of the pieces, a pawn in the center forward and a white rose just beside it. The white rose was like a peace offering, an apology of sorts, she instinctively knew, for his past verbal mistreatment. It was long stemmed and beautiful, almost in full bloom. It was a sweet gesture. She raised an eyebrow but the young lord did not speak. He watched her beneath his white mask, daring her to make the next move. And she did. She thought she heard him inhale sharply. He probably thought she would just turn away and walk out but two could play this game. And two should be playing this game, she thought. She picked up the white rose and walked out of the room, returning the dare he opened.

  This went for a week. She would deliver the tray and find one of the pieces moved and another rose waiting for her, always a different color. She would tidy the room some more after setting the tray and then concentrate on the chess game. After making her move, she would curtsy and leave the room, taking the rose flower with her.

  She looked forward to each evening, trying to guess his next move. One evening, she saw that her queen had been taken out. To her dismay, she had concentrated on saving her king that she forgot the queen was at a vulnerable spot. Her shoulders slumped as she tried to think of another way. A red rose at the side, almost like a consolation prize for an inevitable loss.

  "Ready to forfeit the game?"

  She looked up and raised her chin up in defiance,"You may have challenged me with that move but it's not over yet, my lord." And then she made her move.

  "Check." She called out.

  He stood up from his chair and came closer, looking at the board, speculating. He made his move, moving his king away.

  "Your turn."

  Rosabelle pondered on her next move as he took the seat across from her. She did not question him but took it in stride. She moved her bishop and he countered quickly. The game went on and on until Rosabelle heard him say triumphantly, "Check mate."

  She looked at it and could not believe it. He tricked her and there was her king ready to be kicked out by his queen. There was no other way to save her king.

  She sighed,"I concede. You bested me this time."

  He smiled and she could see he had perfect teeth. No fangs. No monstrous deformity there, she thought. He seemed to be a normal man wearing a white mask.

  "Rematch tomorrow? Same time, perhaps, Ms. Hardy? "

  She hesitated slightly, only because she was thinking about propriety. What would Miranda and the others think? She usually used the early evening sketching before bedtime, just to pass the time. But her master looked so lonely that she found herself nodding, "Agreed. Your dinner got cold, my lord. Would you like me to reheat the food?"

  "No, thank you, Ms. Hardy. I'm quite used to eating cold dinners. I usually eat later in the evening anyway."

  "By your leave, my lord." She gave a curtsy and he nodded her dismissal. She took the red rose and smelled the flower, its fragrance lifting her spirit. And before she turned towards the door, she said, "And it's Rosabelle, my lord."

  She quickly closed the doors before he could say anything. She stopped by her bed chamber and dropped off the red rose in the vase she had brought up from the kitchen. There was an assortment of roses but the red rose was her favorite one so far. She inhaled its fragrance before going back downstairs to the kitchen. She was almost half-skipping and half-walking, humming a simple happy tune as she entered the kitchen. Miranda saw it but did not comment. She only wondered what could have made her visitor friend happy and content, oblivious to the world around her.

  The following evening, Rosabelle brought the dinner tray upstairs into the young master's chambers. She set the tray down and gave a curtsy, "Good evening, my lord."

  "Good evening, Miss--Rosabelle." He replied, standing up from his sitting position in one of the armchairs. "Would you like to start the game?"

  She hesitated,"I don't mean to be too bold but would we rather not eat first while the food is hot and then start the game after?"

  "You brought up your dinner as well?"

  She nodded and he motioned towards the table,"Then we will dine first."

  She smiled and set the table. It was asparagus soup and cucumber sandwiches and the aroma was amazing. He let her sit first then he followed suit across from her.

  "I have been meaning to apologize sooner for my behavior that other day when you first brought up the tray. I should not have spoken to you too harshly."

  Rosabelle saw he was clearly embarrassed and smiled, "I accept your apology. Shall we eat? It's Miranda's specialty. Asparagus soup."

  “I love Miranda's asparagus soup, don't you?" He started as he spooned a mouthful.

  Rosabelle nodded in agreement,"I should rename it as heavenly soup. We got a good crop this year, Pedro says."

  "I know. I spoke to him earlier."

  They ate in comfortable silence for awhile until their dinner was consumed. Rosabelle then set their dinnerware aside and gathered the chess set.

  "Such beautiful pieces. Where did you get them?"

  He shrugged, "They were gifts from my father. I believe it was purchased in one of his travels to the Great Raj Lands and it was given to him as a gift and then he passed it on to me."

  He went to the far side of the room, "Wine, Rosabelle?"

  "I would love some, my lord. It's been awhile, my lord."

  "Call me Lucas."

  She looked at him and accepted the glass of wine. Their fingers brushed for a second and she felt a little spark of jolt pass between them. If he noticed anything, he did not say it. She sipped on the red wine and it made her warm. They started on with the chess game. This time, Rosabelle was determined to win.

  When it was Lucas' turn to ponder on his next move, Rosabelle glanced at him trying to visualize his face beneath the mask. His eyes, she knew was the color of the midnight sky. He had a nice smile, teeth even and sparkling. He was lean and muscular. She knew he was handsome. She would love to see his face, to see his facial expression as he smiled and talked with her.

  "Where did you learn how to play chess, Lucas?" She asked nervously. His name rolling in her tongue for the first time. She liked how it felt on her lips.

  "I was taught during my apprenticeship with Lord Fellows when I was eight. He said if I am able to master the game then I can command a battalion for war. How about you? Who taught you?"

  Rosabelle smiled, "My father always wanted a boy but he had two girls instead. He taught me so he can have an opponent whenever he feels like playing. Besides, I was the logical choice because I was the less attractive sister."

  "I don't think you less attractive." Lucas replied hastily which made her blush deep red.
/>
  "Thank you. I will take that as a compliment. Isabelle tried to learn but she gets too emotional when she loses a piece."

  She leaned over and knocked Lucas' bishop out of the way, "Like this." Her tone teasing.

  Lucas laughed, "Ouch." And then he proceeded to knock her rook out of the way in the same manner. The piece fell to the side and Rosabelle, in turn, laughed. They continued on, knocking pieces throughout the game and laughing until Lucas held up his game, "I think you won this round, Rosabelle."

  She looked at him suspiciously,"You didn't let me win on purpose, did you?"

  He returned an innocent look, "Me? I am a gentleman. I cannot say. "

  She smiled and stood up,"Well, if you did, I thank you. That was a wonderful game. I enjoyed it very much."

  "As did I."

  Rosabelle walked towards the table to pick up the tray containing the remnants of their dinner.

  Lucas stood up and took the tray from her, "Allow me."

  "Where are you going with that?" Rosabelle asked, curious and half-shocked that he was carrying their food tray.

  "Well, we can't have all the dirty dishes up here. I usually bring them back to the kitchens late in the evening when I am done."

  She opened the double doors for him to pass and they proceeded down the hallway. At the threshold where the staircase lead to the right and left wing, they paused.

  "Good night, Rosabelle. Tomorrow again?"

  She looked at him and gave a curtsy, "I would be honored. Good night."

  He waited until she went up the stairs to her wing and she turned to give a small wave. He was looking on and gave a small nod in acknowledgment. She could not see his expression but she could see him give her a smile. If only that mask would melt away, she thought as she proceeded to walk towards her chambers. Her heart skipped a little at the thought of seeing Lucas again tomorrow night.