The mountains in the distance rose toward the sky as the sun began to lift behind them. Little by little, its first rays started to light up the whole city. The cornfields swayed to the rhythm of the wind, creating the impression of waves.

  People began getting ready for the day's routine. The household men prepared to go to work, the mothers to tend their children or run the home's errands. The children got ready to go to school. And the birds to sing the same melody every day, as if it were their duty.

  At the center of the city stood the Grims house. A Japanese-style residence, almost as large as an entire district. Built of dark wood, with red details and walls surrounding the whole property.

  In one of the six wings that stood outside the Grims’s house, a gray-haired woman sat at a window, watching the sunrise. Her eyes had the gaze of a hunter; her eyelashes and the clothes that complemented her beauty made her seem otherworldly.

  The woman watched the sun as it rose behind the mountains, her mind full of too many thoughts at that moment. But more than anything, she thought of one clear goal, something she had to do today that would change her life, for better or for worse.

  Neisha Grims’s POV

  It seems the day has finally come; the sun is already rising. The birds are out there keeping to their routine, singing the same melody every day. Why do they do it? I wondered to myself. Just then, a bird swooped down; I held out my hand to see if it would perch, and amazingly it landed on my fingers. I felt the light weight of its feet, the strength of its grip, and its body warmth.

  Am I not a bird? No. The comparison doesn't make sense. I would be more like a caged bird. I have no say in what I do, nor can I move freely wherever I want. I think the reason I compared myself to one is because, in the end, we are both trapped doing the same thing.

  Tun, tun, tun.

  The sound of the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

  “Come in,” I said.

  At my command, the door opened and Stella slipped inside. She had short, jet-black hair, not ordinary black; when the sun hit it, deep purple shadows formed that matched her eyes.

  She wore the maid uniform. After slipping into the room almost without making a sound, she bowed her head in the greeting posture used in this house.

  “Good morning, Lady Neisha,” she said.

  “Oh, good morning, Stella.”

  “Your medicinal leaf bath is ready.”

  And with that, my routine began.

  ***

  We left the room and I followed Stella down the halls of the Grims house. The sound of our footsteps was the only thing to be heard until we reached the bath at the far end of a huge room, well decorated, with the same elegant air that everything in this house carried.

  Normally I bathe alone, but since today is the day to change everything, I decided to do something different.

  “Stella, come in bathe with me,” I said.

  “L-Lady Neisha, you’re… completely naked.” she stammered. She slapped her hands over her face, but through her fingers I could see the flush rise on her cheeks as she tried to turn her head away.

  “It doesn’t matter, come!”

  I grabbed her wrist firmly and dragged her with me, forcing her into the bath. The steam from the medicinal herbs surrounded us both in an instant. Stella stumbled a little, but I didn’t let go until we stood before the water.

  “Come on, take off your clothes.”

  “N-no, Lady Neisha. This isn’t right. Someone like me isn’t allowed to bathe here, and much less with someone like you.”

  “Really? What we’ll do later is worse. This is nothing, so stop making excuses. Undress already.” I replied with a stern look.

  Stella had no choice but to obey. Her hands, still trembling, began to undo the fastenings of her maid uniform. She moved quickly; her agility showed even in the way she moved. She kept shedding her clothes little by little until the uniform slipped from her shoulders. When the garments hit the floor, they made a metallic sound that had nothing to do with what you’d expect.

  Does she always wear them? I thought.

  Once her body was completely naked, a scar that ran across her stomach from side to side came into view. The moment my eyes landed on it, Stella brought her hands to her belly, trying to hide the mark.

  I always wonder what happened to her. In all the time she has been my personal maid, she has never told me a single thing about her scar. She doesn’t like me to bring it up; she always changes the subject quickly, trying to avoid my questions. Not only that, when her mark shows, her behavior changes: she becomes more timid, fragile, something completely opposite to her usual personality.

  “Stella, what happened there?” I asked.

  “I’ve already told you I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll only say that it’s a reminder of who I am, a scar I will carry for life to remind me what I am worth and what I deserve as a person,” she replied.

  She walked to the tub and sank into the water. Only when the foam managed to cover her stomach did she relax her arms, letting her hands float loosely in the water.

  “I don’t think a scar should define who you are,” I said.

  Stella looked at me with her usual almost expressionless serious face. Her lips moved slightly, as if she were about to say something, but she stopped halfway. She fell silent for a second, as if deciding what to say.

  “It’s not the scar that defines who I am; the scar is something superficial, a wound that has already healed. What really carries weight is the story behind it and what it means to me.”

  She’s right; people assign meaning to tiny things when those things carry emotional weight for them. It could be a sound they heard in childhood, a toy they used to play, with anything that, when remembered, makes you feel strong emotions can be important to you.

  “Alright, change the subject, Stella! Let’s enjoy the bath, that’s why we came!” I exclaimed.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Without warning, I lunged at her, breaking the tension of the moment. Water spilled over the edges of the tub and the foam splashed both of us as I tried to wrap my arms around her and touch her breasts.

  “Lady Neisha, I don’t think it’s a good idea to waste time here,” Stella said, trying to keep her balance. “Today is a very important day and they could arrive at any moment.”

  “It’s fine, you’ll feel them coming anyway.”

  “Let’s see, what do you have here!” I said as my hands explored her body beneath the water.

  I began to roam over her chest, squeezing and playing with her breasts, which felt incredibly soft through the foam. They were perfectly shaped firm yet elastic, fitting completely into the hollows of my palms as if they had been made for my hands. How enviable!

  Stella has perfect curves! Her buttocks are rounded and prominent, as are her thighs. Uh! If I were a man, I’d sleep with her without thinking.

  “L-Lady Neisha. Please stop, I beg you,” she said in a low voice.

  I expected a tender reaction or some moans, a blush, or that she might become aroused but none of that happened. Looking at her closely, I saw sadness etched on her face; her eyes were watery, as if she were about to cry.

  I pulled away from Stella immediately. Had I hurt her? Why? Why did she react that way? I don’t understand her; I expected any reaction but sadness. Truly, Stella is a strange, mysterious person. I’ve never understood what she’s been through or what she suffers inside, and it seems I never will.

  “I-I’m sorry. I think I crossed the line; I only wanted to play with you a bit,” I said with a trembling voice.

  “Yes, everyone wants the same thing. To play with me.” she replied, standing up and stepping out of the tub.

  “That’s not it! I only wanted to show the affection I feel for you.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve that kind of affection,” she told me without looking at me.

  I was left speechless, trying to make sense of what she had just said. I didn’t understand it at all. I don’t know what she means by not deserving that kind of affection. While I tried to process what had just happened, Stella had finished dressing and stood by the exit door in her usual rigid, professional posture.

  “They’re here,” she said.

  It’s time to switch to the next objective but not to forget what just happened here.

  ***

  We returned to my room to prepare. There, Stella took off her maid uniform and changed into her combat outfit. It was a somewhat technical suit, made of a dark, stretchy material that hugged her body like a second skin. It outlined every muscle, but above all it gave total mobility, allowing her to move freely without the clothing getting in the way.

  She fastened a leather belt where she placed two daggers at her sides; the daggers’ hilts sat right at hand level. Then she put on a mask to hide her identity and, finally so she wouldn’t be recognized by her hairstyle, she tied her hair up.

  “I’m ready,” she told me.

  “Aren’t you better with the sword?” I asked.

  “Yes, but for this specific occasion daggers are more practical. Besides, I don’t plan on having to fight; it’s simply a precaution.”

  “It’s time.” she said and turned to leave the room, but I stopped her.

  “Wait!” I grabbed her hand to hold her back.

  She turned to look at me and asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “I know it has nothing to do with this, but… have you ever been in love?” I asked.

  Stella fell silent, studying the situation for a moment. Her posture didn’t change, but there was a second of absolute stillness in the room.

  “I don’t understand why you’re asking that at a time like this,” she said.

  It’s just… I don’t even know. I just want to… I want to know, to confirm something before doing this. I don’t know if it’s the right thing and I’d like someone else’s opinion; Stella is the only friend I have, so poor her always has to endure these kinds of situations.

  “I think you’re asking me something you’d actually like someone to ask you,” she said, pausing for a moment and then continuing, “Have you ever been in love, Lady Neisha?”

  Me? No… I haven’t been in love. So then why am I a concubine? Well…

  When I was young, I fell in love with a boy named William Grims. He was very kind and respectful; I saw him every day at school during lunch or some classes. He was somewhat quiet and reserved, but I always approached him to talk.

  Eventually that boy fell in love with me too, and we began dating. Everything went very well at first: we laughed together, ate together, and spent most of our time together. We even swore eternal love to each other one summer afternoon before the new school year started and that’s when everything changed.

  It turned out William Grims came from a wealthy but reserved family; until then, no one knew who the Grims were. It all happened suddenly: they began to show power, money, and control. In a short time they became one of the most well known houses, why, I don’t know. But basically they had control of almost the entire city.

  That year William changed… I wouldn’t say drastically, but there were noticeable differences. He was colder, much more reserved than before, and he seemed sadder than ever. Worst of all, he stopped talking to me, his girlfriend at the time.

  I became very depressed and cried every night, but eventually I got over it and moved on with my life. Although I didn’t understand his reasons, I preferred to think it wasn’t either of our faults, but an unexpected change in circumstances.

  Two years later I received a letter from the Grims house. Seeing it I felt confused, but deep down I expected something… something I didn’t understand but that made me excited and uneasy. Inside was an invitation to the Grims house from William Grims to speak with me.

  Without thinking I presented myself in the conference room and there he was, sitting in a chair that looked like a throne, with a tender look and a warm smile. Seeing him after so long made my eyes water.

  “William,” I said.

  “Long time, Neisha.”

  “Yes… it’s been a while. Although I never knew why you left me like that… out of nowhere, did I do something wrong?” I asked.

  “No, not at all. But we’ll have time to talk about that. I invited you today to make a very personal request.”

  “What request?”

  “I would like you to be my concubine.”

  Hearing those words broke me into pieces. Obviously I refused at first, but after hearing his reasons and an explanation of the situation, I ended up accepting. Why? Because I still loved William Grims.

  It turned out he had been chosen to be the heir of the Grims, and he had to go far away for training and tests. By tradition he was assigned five concubines, since that signified power or something like that. But he was going to break tradition for me, because he loved me. His words were sweet and I ended up accepting; he made me feel special and that made me trust him.

  At first he came to my room every night to sleep with me. He told me things like he loved me, and that he couldn’t touch the other concubines because it didn’t feel right or comfortable. I fell more in love with him each time and stopped questioning or wanting to know about his situation. I just let myself be carried away by his words.

  When I became pregnant with Kairo, we were both overjoyed to have a child. William began spending much more time with me; he took me out to eat or for walks almost every day. I was very happy.

  But after Kairo was born and as he grew, he showed signs of weakness, which caused William to change his attitude toward our son a bit, though I didn’t pay much attention at the time. Everything changed when Kairo turned eight.

  William had returned from a long six month trip to the central continent. William fought in a match against Kairo and saw that he had no skill or dexterity. His expression darkened, and he distanced himself from us.

  He began going to the other concubines’ rooms and little by little left me abandoned here. This led to a severe depression from which Stella helped me recover. I asked myself: why? What did I do wrong?

  But in reality I already knew the answer. It was all Kairo’s fault. If he had been born stronger, if he had met his father’s expectations, everything would have been easier and I could have spent more time with the person I loved.

  But of course, it’s not easy to choose between the person you love most and your child. That’s why I need to know more; I need answers, and that’s what I’m going to get.

  “Yes, I love William Grims,” I answered without hesitation