Chapter 3 (Morning Mist and Strawberriesp)

The morning mist clung to the surface of the estate stream bank, turning the water into a sheet of polished silver.

Adrian sat at the water's edge.. his knees pulled to his chest, staring at the ripples he created by tossing small jagged stones into the depths. He looked like a ghost haunting his own life-pale, unmoving, and utterly hollow.

A soft rustle of silk whispered against the damp grass, shattering his trance. A little girl, perhaps a few years younger than him, had settled on the opposite bank, her bright ribbons stark against the muted colors of the morning.

She watched him for a long time, her eyes wide, before she finally parted her lips to speak.

"What's your name? I haven't seen you here before."

Adrian didn't reply.

The girl scooted closer to the edge of the lake, thinking that he might not be able to hear her. Taking in his disheveled clothes and the way his shoulders trembled against the morning chill, she asked softly, leaning her face downward.

"Did anyone scold you? Are you cold? You look like you've been standing in the rain."

Still, Adrian offered nothing but a blank, distant gaze, his eyes fixed on the murky water.

The girl's expression softened into one of dawning realization.

"Ah, is it that you don't want to talk?"

She paused as a flash of earnest, heartfelt understanding crossed her features.

"Okay."

Adrian finally shifted, his eyes flickering toward her. He didn't want her pity; he had enough of that from the maids. He wanted to tell her to go away, to leave him to the silence but the words felt like lead in his throat.

He just stared at her, the mask of his grief slightly cracked, revealing a raw, lonely vulnerability he couldn't quite hide.

The girl suddenly got up and crossed the bank via the wooden bridge a little ways off, then walked over to sit right beside the boy.

Humming and shifting her weight as she looked around the lush garden bordering the lake, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a bright, ripe fruit.

"Here,"

she said, holding it out toward him.

"It's a strawberry. I just plucked it a minute ago; it's fresh."

Adrian finally shifted his gaze, locking eyes with her. She was persistent almost annoyingly so and she refused to leave him to the quiet misery he had carved out for himself.

Yet, as he looked at the vibrant red of the berry, a strange, flickering sensation stirred in his chest. It was a sense of warmth, or perhaps a fragile thread of connection, something he couldn't quite name or understand.

He hesitated, the weight of his grief still anchoring him, but the relentless sincerity in her expression wore down his defenses.

Slowly, his hand trembled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the strawberry.

It was the first small, human gesture he had accepted since his world turned cold.

"Elaine!"

The sharp, anxious call echoed from the path leading back toward the grand estate. A woman in a maid's apron hurried out from the tree line, her eyes scanning the lawn.

Elaine flinched slightly at the interruption, then looked back down at Adrian with a soft smile.

"I have to go,"

she whispered, getting up and dusting off her skirt. She offered a small, reassuring wave before turning on her heel.

"See you later!"

Adrian watched her small figure scamper away to join the maid, the rustle of her dress fading into the distance. He was left alone by the water once more, the strawberry still clutched tightly in his hand.

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#writon