Dreams

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Late November

1592

I saw him again.

This morning, I had been sent out to town with one of the chambermaids. Not wanting to waste any more time than we had to in the cold, the two of us had separated to complete our individual tasks and then make the long trek back to the manner. Taking advantage of the solitude, I managed to slip further into the square and head towards one of my favorite shops to replenish my ink and scroll supplies. The shop was normally rather high-end and would never sell to a commoner such as myself but I was smart in my persuasions and had convinced the owner that I was purchasing for the young Lord and Lady. Seeing as I was always frugal with my meager earnings and was friendly with most of the other merchants in the market, I always managed to talk things down to lower prices and use the leftovers for my own needs, however shady that was. Soon I became a frequent customer and the man quickly stopped questioning my intentions and was always eager to see me.

That was when I saw him. The crowded street parted like the sea for just the briefest of moments and I caught sight of his broad back that was nearly unmistakable. His dressings were as elegant and finely tailored as ever and he stuck out sorely compared to the rest of his surroundings. The others in the square. noticed how out of place he appeared as well as he was quickly garnering a crowd that acted as if they weren't staring from afar.

He must have sensed I was standing there as in that moment, he had turned around and spotted me amongst the onlookers. He seemed to recognize me and smiled brighter than the sun itself and stepped forward. I felt the breath seize in my chest.

"I was wondering if I would run into you again." He had said through his grin. His cat eyes sparkled with mischief as if he knew for certain that we would and I could feel heat grow on my cheeks that was not caused by the sun. "How is your ankle?"

"How did you know my name?" I couldn't help the sentence from bursting forth. The thought had been on my mind since the second he had left me last. It was unwise to question a nobleman but in regards to myself, I felt it was justified.

The noble blinked owlishly at me, a bit surprised by the outburst but regained his smile. "My apologies for being presumptuous. I was a visitor at your manor some months ago and saw you for the first time in the courtyard as a maid called your name. I figured you remembered who I was."

I felt my ears burn and almost smacked myself on the head for entertaining strange ideas. He wasn't some strange man who just happened to know his name, he had been a visitor. Though I was sure I should feel a bit flattered that he remembered a lowly servant's name. But I also wonder why I never caught such a striking visage at the manor. I felt mildly embarrassed at the situation.

The nobleman, somehow privy to my emotions, decided to change the topic. He pointed to the shop beside us and asked if I was going in to buy something. Noticing the shop that I always frequented, I quickly shook my head. If he were a noble that knew the Lord and Lady at the manner, it was not a good idea for him to see me purchasing ink and scrolls and he might just mention my hobby to the masters of the house.

I love writing but my mild education has always been a bit of a secret and, if it got out, would put me at a great disadvantage. In the beginning of my servitude, I was taught just enough to entertain any guests for a few moments but nothing more. Anything else I picked up was from mutterings I had heard from around the Manor and the streets. Eventually I got my hands on a spare scroll that had been ripped and a frayed brush. Writing seemed to come easily after that. I know very few characters but I wish to learn more. Perhaps what I write is only legible to me but it is my solace, my release, and I refuse to give it up because I was careless and let something slip.

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