Exile || Sebastian Sallow

14 | The Maid

"A haunted house with a picket fence.
To float around and ghost my friends.
No, I'm not afraid to disappear."
- Phoebe Bridgers

───•~❉᯽❉~•───

14 | The Maid

Belle's Perspective

It was late afternoon on a Saturday. Autumn air whooshed through the opened kitchen windows of Mia's home in Irondale, a hamlet in the Feldcroft Region, the windowsill lined with potted violets and daisies. Floral curtains swayed in front of me as I whisked flour and sugar into a mixing bowl, the cool wind a welcoming kiss to my sweaty skin.

I'd left Hogwarts this morning to spend time with my maid, Mia, just before dawn broke through the horizon. No one knew of my whereabouts except Lila who promised to cover for me today.

Though I was worried about how Ethan would react when I came back and told him I'd left, I figured that was tomorrow me's problem. I was sure he'd understand why I left without him. I was capable of protecting myself.

I hated to admit it but I was glad Sebastian said what he'd said about finding my free will. Because damn it, he was right. This was my life and no one else's. I couldn't always please everyone.

I might not have gone to Mia's today if not for Sebastian. I just hoped as Team Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, he was pushing them hard today so Ethan could keep his mind off my whereabouts for one day.

Today was all about my freedom and spending time with Mia.

We'd already had lunch an hour ago but I started craving the cookies I'd learned to make last summer for dessert, so here I was now, making them. Shortbread cookies, specifically.

Mia was looking through her cupboards behind me for the recipe's secret ingredient. Cinnamon.

I'd been so bored all of summer before the start of this year that I decided to teach myself baking.

"Here you are, sweetie." Mia dropped a small vial of cinnamon on the table in front of me.

I smiled. "Thank you."

Reading the recipe I'd laid out in front of me just to be sure, I uncapped the vial and sprinkled a very, very small amount of cinnamon to the dry ingredients. It amplified the flavours apparently. I'd written it in such bold letters that it must be a very crucial step!

Mia dragged a wooden chair to my left and sat next to where I stood, watching me with a curious gaze, her crimson lips tugging up.

She was in her late 40s but she'd always had a youthful look to her. With her beautiful dark brown hair tied up messily in a bun, and her dark turquoise eyes, it was a wonder she had no admirers.

Then again, she'd always jest about turning down their advances, but I bet 10 Galleons she was hiding her admirer from me. I remembered how she and my mother always teased each other about it years ago.

My mum and Mia were great friends growing up, and when Mia lost her husband and seven-year-old daughter in a fire, Mum offered her a home with us. But Mia was too humble to accept anything free. Nothing would have ever convinced her of it, so she insisted on working for us.

Of course, she worked for my family, but we never treated her as anything less than us. Our manor in Great Hangleton thrived because of her.