Guard of heart

The history

I scrambled to pick it up, hoping against hope that it wasn’t broken. Thankfully, the bulb was still intact, but the lampshade was crooked and it tilted to one side like it had given up on life.As I straightened the lamp, I noticed a dull ache in my leg.

I glanced down and saw that I was favoring my right leg, which had somehow developed a noticeable limp. Great, I thought, now I’m a walking disaster.With a sigh, I decided to take a break from my martial arts aspirations. I made my way downstairs, each step a reminder of my unfortunate kick. I hoped to find some ice to ease the pain.

As I limped down the grand staircase, each step jolted pain through my leg, a harsh reminder of my awkward attempt at self-defense practice. The plush carpet offered little solace; it felt more like a bed of tiny needles pressing against my sore foot.

My mind raced with thoughts of Mr. Wilkins in Switzerland and the unsettling events leading up to his departure. *This is why I should stick to reading mystery novels, not living in one.*

When I reached the kitchen, the gentle hum of the vacuum cleaner had been replaced by a serene silence. Rosalie, the housekeeper, was still awake, tidying up and putting away cleaning supplies. Her presence was oddly comforting, but I could hardly ignore the pain radiating from my leg.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Rosalie greeted, noticing my hobbling form as I entered the kitchen. “Why are you up at this hour? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

I forced a casual tone, despite the wince in my voice. “Oh, just needed some ice. Got a bit of a craving, you know?”

Rosalie raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying my excuse. “Craving ice at midnight? That’s…unusual.” Her tone was polite, but I could tell she thought I had completely lost it.

“Yeah, just one of those nights,” I muttered, grabbing a handful of ice cubes from the freezer. Yep, I’m totally convincing, I thought, trying to look casual.

Rosalie seemed skeptical but nodded. “Alright, ma’am. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

I nodded in thanks and gingerly made my way to the kitchen counter, wincing with each step. Sitting down, I placed the ice on my throbbing leg, the cold offering a brief relief before the sharp sting came back. Great. I didn’t know ice could have betrayal issues too.

As I tried to get comfortable, I couldn’t help but think, *I need to be more careful. This isn’t just about self-defense anymore; it’s about staying alert.*

Rosalie, ever observant, soon returned to the kitchen and noticed my pained expression as I struggled with the ice pack. “What happened?” she asked, stepping closer with concern. “You look like you’re in quite a bit of discomfort.”

I tried to smile, though it felt forced. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. Just… hit my leg on the bed. It’s nothing to worry about.”Rosalie’s raised eyebrow told me I was not fooling anyone.

Rosalie’s gaze softened as she walked over to help. “Let me take a look. It might help to wrap it properly. Can’t have you hobbling around like this.”

She expertly wrapped the ice pack in a cloth and adjusted it on my leg, providing much-needed comfort. “Thank you, Rosalie. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”

“No fuss at all,” she said with a reassuring smile. “It’s my job to take care of the house and its guests. That includes making sure you’re okay.”

I looked up, grateful for her kindness. “I really appreciate it. I had a bit of a clumsy moment. Thought I could handle some self-defense training, but it turns out my coordination isn’t as sharp as I hoped.”

Rosalie’s curiosity was piqued. “But why are you learning self-defense at midnight? That’s quite unusual.”

I hesitated, struggling to come up with a plausible excuse. “Oh, you know, just… trying to stay fit. Late-night workouts and all that.”

Rosalie’s skeptical gaze told me she wasn’t fully convinced. “You’re not very convincing, ma’am. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s something more to this.”

I shifted uncomfortably, realizing my cover-up was falling apart. *Great. Now I’m going to be the subject of late-night speculation.*

“Well, with Mr. Wilkins in Switzerland and everything, I wanted to be prepared, just in case.”

Rosalie’s expression softened as she began to understand. “Ah, I see. It’s because of what happened to Mr. Wilkins. I can understand your concern.”

I looked up, surprised. “How did you know about that?”

Rosalie gave me a comforting smile as she adjusted the ice pack. “I’ve been working here for 25 years, ma’am. I’ve seen many new faces come and go, and I know why there’s suddenly more security around here. It’s a sign that something’s amiss.”

I stared at her, taken aback by her insight. “So, you knew about the danger Mr. Wilkins was in?”

“Not exactly,” she said, her tone calm and reassuring. “But i know that the increased security is here for a reason. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I felt a wave of relief and gratitude. “Thank you, Rosalie. I didn’t realize you’d been here so long. Your experience must give you quite a perspective on things.”

Rosalie nodded, her eyes kind. “Experience has its perks. And don’t worry too much. Mr. Wilkins is a strong man, and his special security force is here to make sure things stay under control.”

I felt comforted as she helped me adjust the ice pack. “I really appreciate your help. And for understanding.”

“No trouble at all,” Rosalie said with a gentle smile. “Just make sure to take care of yourself. The mansion has its own way of keeping secrets, but we’re here to make sure they don’t get the best of us.”

As Rosalie adjusted the ice pack on my leg, I couldn’t help but let my curiosity surface—nothing nosy, just professional interest. After all, being Mr. Wilkins' private secretary meant I should stay informed. "Has something like this ever happened before?" I asked, aiming for a casual tone, though my curiosity was genuine.

Rosalie didn’t answer right away. She paused, her hands steady on the ice pack, but her eyes briefly flickered as if she were sifting through memories. "Well, yes… a few times, actually," she said slowly, her voice even and calm, as though she’d been asked this before. "But it was a long time ago. Back when certain people thought they could take shortcuts to the top by targeting Mr. Wilkins."

There was a flicker of something in her eyes—concern, maybe—but it passed quickly. Her professional demeanor slipped back into place as she continued, "But that’s all in the past. Things have been quiet for quite some time now."

I nodded, absorbing her words. There was something about the way she brushed it off that made me think there was more to the story, but I wasn’t here to dig. Rosalie wasn’t one for gossip, and neither was I. "Good to know," I said, keeping it light. "I just want to make sure I stay prepared."

She smiled, a reassuring yet composed expression. "Of course. It’s my job to make sure everyone here is looked after."

"Thanks, Rosalie," I replied, shifting the ice pack slightly. "I appreciate the help—and the history lesson."

Rosalie gave a slight nod, her eyes softening just a little, but she quickly returned to her duties. As she resumed her cleaning, I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more beneath her calm surface. But for now, I left it at that, content with her reassurances and grateful for the ice.