BLOOD OATH

CHAPTER SEVEN:STRANGERS

CHAPTER SEVEN

STRANGERS

The room was... cozy.

Too cozy.

I looked around in silence.

The walls were painted a soft cream, with small flower pots hanging near the window. Two neatly made beds stood opposite each other, while a wooden wardrobe occupied one corner.

There were flowers everywhere.

I frowned.

"Who keeps flowers inside a room?"

Maria laughed as she arranged a few clothes inside the wardrobe.

"I do."

"I noticed."

"They make the room feel alive."

"They make it smell strange."

She gasped dramatically.

"You don't like flowers?"

"I don't."

She stared at me as though I had just confessed to murder.

"How can someone not like flowers?"

"They're... flowers."

"They're beautiful!"

"So are knives."

Maria blinked.

"...I don't think that's the same thing."

"It is to me."

She laughed again.

"You really are different."

If only you knew.

She suddenly picked up the chef's uniform lying neatly on the bed.

"This is yours."

I took it from her.

The uniform was navy blue with delicate white embroidery along the sleeves.

It looked...

Feminine.

I sighed inwardly.

"I'll have to wear this every day?"

"Of course."

"You'll get used to it."

"I doubt it."

Maria smiled.

"I think it'll suit you."

"I think black suits me better."

She tilted her head.

"You really like dark colours."

"Hm."

"I like bright ones."

"I noticed."

There was a brief silence before she sat cross-legged on her bed, facing me.

"So..."

"So?"

"Tell me your secret."

"My secret?"

"That dish."

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"How did you make Young Master Cassian eat everything?"

"I cooked."

"No, seriously."

"I am serious."

She puffed her cheeks.

"There has to be something special."

I shrugged.

"I just know how flavours work."

She leaned closer.

"Teach me."

I looked at her.

She wasn't joking.

"I can't explain it."

"Try."

"It isn't about measurements."

"Then?"

"It's about balance."

She frowned in confusion.

I picked up an empty cup from the table.

"If sweetness arrives first..."

I tapped the rim.

"...the tongue prepares itself."

Another tap.

"Then comes salt."

"And finally..."

I smiled slightly.

"...the heat."

Maria listened without interrupting.

"When people think a meal is spicy..."

"They expect only pain."

I shook my head.

"But if the flavours arrive one after another..."

"The spice becomes addictive."

Her mouth slowly fell open.

"I..."

She pointed at me.

"I've never thought about cooking like that."

"I know."

"You make cooking sound like fighting."

I almost smiled.

"It is."

She burst into laughter.

"You really are strange."

I decided not to respond.

She talked too much.

After a while, Maria stood up.

"I'll go prepare dinner."

She stopped at the door.

"Oh."

She turned back.

"If you get bored..."

"You can walk around the quarters."

"Just don't enter the northern wing."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Cassian's wing?"

She nodded quickly.

"The guards there are much stricter."

"I'll remember."

She smiled one last time before leaving.

The room immediately became quiet.

Much better.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

My eyes slowly drifted toward the window.

The weather here was...

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

No screams.

No gunshots.

No blood.

Just birds.

I hated birds.

...

By evening, boredom finally won.

I stepped outside.

The servants' quarters were livelier than I expected.

Some people chatted while washing vegetables.

Others carried baskets across the courtyard.

Several cooks hurried toward the kitchen.

No one looked frightened.

No one whispered nervously.

This place didn't feel like a mafia empire.

It felt like a village.

As I wandered aimlessly, my eyes landed on a young girl struggling beneath a heavy sack of onions.

She couldn't have been older than sixteen.

The bag was almost twice her size.

She stumbled.

Nearly fell.

I looked around.

Several people noticed.

No one moved.

Good.

That meant I didn't have to either.

I walked past her.

Three steps.

Four.

Five.

My feet suddenly stopped.

"What now?"

I frowned at myself.

Keep walking.

It isn't your problem.

I took another step.

Then another.

Somehow...

I turned around.

Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed the sack with one hand and lifted it away from her.

The girl blinked several times.

"So heavy..."

I muttered.

She straightened her back and dusted her dress.

For a second, I expected gratitude.

Instead...

"I didn't ask for help."

I stared at her.

"What?"

"You shouldn't help people without asking."

She sounded annoyed.

Not rude.

Just...

Annoyed.

I narrowed my eyes.

Was she serious?

"I could have managed."

"You were about to be crushed."

"I would've figured something out."

Interesting.

Helping people here was apparently a crime.

Before I could respond, Maria's cheerful voice interrupted us.

"Serena!"

She hurried over.

"Oh! Isabella, you're here."

She looked between us.

"Did you help Serena?"

The girl folded her arms.

"She did."

Maria smiled proudly.

"That was kind of you."

Kind?

That word again.

I wasn't kind.

I had acted on impulse.

Nothing more.

Maria turned to the girl.

"Serena, you should at least thank her."

Serena sighed.

"...Thank you."

She sounded as though someone had forced the words out of her.

I almost laughed.

"No problem."

Maria looked relieved.

"See? That wasn't so difficult."

Serena simply picked up the sack again.

This time, she managed it.

She smiled to herself despite how heavy it looked.

Then quietly walked away.

I watched her leave.

"Who was that?"

Maria smiled softly.

"Young Master Cassian's little sister."

I blinked.

"...That was Serena?"

Maria nodded.

"You've never met her before?"

I slowly looked in the direction Serena had disappeared.

That shabby dress.

Messy hair.

Tomato stains on her cheeks.

That was the younger sister of the mafia prince?

She looked more like one of the kitchen maids.

"What happened to her?" I asked.

Maria hesitated.

"...It's a long story."

She forced a smile.

"You'll understand someday."

Before I could ask another question, she clapped her hands excitedly.

"Come on!"

"Dinner won't cook itself."

I followed behind her.

But my thoughts remained with Serena.

This empire...

Was becoming stranger by the day.

First, a mafia prince who thanked servants.

Now...

A mafia princess who carried onions on her back.

Either everyone here had lost their minds...

Or I had walked into a place far different from the one I had imagined.