The Sacred Seven

Chapter 11 - Another

Lillith couldn't battle an eyelid.

She blankly stared at the ceiling for hours, feeling empty, thinking about what words of the golden socialite. She realized that she knew nothing about them. About where they came from, about their origin, about how did Tom recruit them, or who they truly were.

There was so much on her mind at all times and Lillith's head turned heavier each day. She was so tired of everything.

Tired of being oblivious. Tired of being afraid. Tired of fighting. Tired of suffering.

Tired of him.

She had weeks to think about her life. The night terrors enabled her to sleep and even though her mind was at peace for once, she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes.

Every day, she was falling deeper and deeper into the pitch-black darkness of her mind and she knew that the day she will no longer resurface to the light was coming.

But she didn't want to wait.

No.

She didn't have that much time.

So, she decided to speed up the process in the very near future.

Lillith silently rolled out of her bed and barefoot advanced across the room, peeking from the doorframe. She looked the hall up and down before stepping into the open area and the witch made her way towards the kitchen, wishing for a nice glass of cold milk.

A frown fell upon her face when she realized there was light shining from the room and she pressed her back against the wall, peeking inside.

"Put those fingers away from the curd!"

An older lady yelled at the young boy, scolding him with her hands on her hips.

"I told you to keep your hands to yourself!" she yelled, threateningly holding out a finger in the air.

A boy, no older than fourteen, huffed in frustration, but when the woman turned around, he licked his fingers clean with a smack.

"Everything must be perfect tomorrow, so don't you dare to think th-"

She went on with her rumble whilst she processed the dough and the boy mocked her words, inaudibly babbling every word in repetition. The lady chef took a brief glance at him whilst she spoke, catching him in the act.

"You-little-brat!" she exclaimed, smacking him with the tablecloth with every word. The boy covered himself, shielding his body from the stinging smacks of the towel.

"I am sorry! I really am!"

Lillith giggled at the scene, but she lost her balance all at once and accidentally crashed against the door, sending it fly open.

"Your Grace!" the woman breathed, holding the cloth to her chest. They both froze in their actions, bowing deeply to the princess.

Lillith felt incredibly embarrassed to be caught in the act, but it seemed as if she was the only one concerned about the matter. For a moment, she was worried the lady was going to faint at the sight of her.

"I dearly apologize if we disrupted your sleep. We truly didn't mean to cause such nois-"

"Oh no!" Lillith interrupted her, shaking her head in denial. "You didn't wake me or anything! I was just wondering if I could get a glass of milk," she spoke hesitantly, carefully picking her words.

"Oh," the woman exhaled in relief, letting the tension fall off her shoulders. "Oh! But of course!" she exclaimed as if the realization just hit her and she nudged the boy with her elbow, motioning for the other entrance. "Why don't you bring the milk for the Lady Damian?"