I am Reborn through Revenge

The narrow sidewalk

***Marie's POV***

The Prince was standing right in front of her, shirtless. Her jaw dropped even more widely seeing him now. Her eyes moved straight to the Prince's hairless chest. She wanted to control where her eyes travel to but she couldn't. But rather her eyes were fixed looking at him. The Prince attire had concealed a lot of beauty in him, she thought.

“Marie!” Anon yelled. “What is it?” he asked. He quickly glanced down his body, examining himself for a moment. Maybe he was checking if there was something Marie was seeing on his body that was inappropriate. He took his time taking in as many details about himself as possible—it was as if it wasn't his body he was looking at.

Marie shrugged. She prayed the Prince doesn’t find out that she was adoring his body; his chest.

Wait! Was it only his chest that she admired? Her eyes also glanced through his flat tummy, his steel-looking abs, and how well structured they were. She wished she could feel it with her hands.

She had almost forgotten what she was saying to the Prince too. “Nothing,” she muttered, flickering her eyes. She was trying to remember exactly where she stopped.

“I thought you were saying something?” Anon asked, squinting his eyes.

Marie sighed in relief. Looking through the Prince's furrowed eyes, plus the uncertain expression on his face, she knew that the Prince hadn't found out yet why she couldn't remember where she stopped. It was a good thing though, so she thought. She didn’t want to feel embarrassed.

“Y—yes.” Her eyes were still fixed at the Prince's chest then to the Prince's eyes. Anon gave her an interrogative gaze but she quickly averted it.

“Good, continue. I am listening.”

She scratched her head gently while trying to remember the same thing she was saying before she interrupted herself. “I asked Angie why she wouldn’t, I mean why I was not doing what others were doing but she didn’t give me a straight answer. She only told me that whatever she tells me to do is by the Queen’s orders. She also said—something."

“What? Please, tell me, Marie. I just want to hear all those stories. All of them,” he impatiently begged. Marie saw through his desire—it was like that of a child begging for breast milk. Marie was surprised and kind of felt uncomfortable by the situation. Why would a Prince beg for a piece of information that wasn’t relevant? She couldn’t understand it.

“She told me that if it were left for her to decide, she wouldn’t even take an illiterate in the first place. She wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh! I see.” He nodded his head without moving. Even though Anon was looking at Marie but his eyes weren’t fixed on her—it wandered vaguely. Marie used the opportunity to quickly run a glance at him again. The pool water had made his hair rest on his back and some on his shoulders like a piece of long wet cloth. The Prince's biceps and triceps were fairly larger for a person of his stature—he was of the considerable slim build especially when you see him putting on his clothes. His long neck would most probably give any person as tall as Marie or as short as her a tough time whispering something to his ears without raising his or her legs to the peak. She shifted her gaze to his face and she encountered a scowly look. It seemed as if the Prince was pondering on something that was bothering him. He stood still like a statue and everything on his body stopped moving except for his head which he was nodding slowly. It was as though he was muttering words only he could hear.

“Hmm…hmm!” she squeaked, calling for his attention. “Can I go now your Highness?” she asked. Anon was startled and she noticed it and smiled. It was obvious Anon's mind wasn’t there.

“Oh-Oh. Sorry for taking your time. I believe the bookstore is by the left of the road that brought you here. It’s a bungalow. The foyer is made with an iron protector. I believe the color is brown or black, I am not sure. Yeah, yeah. Don’t blame me, I can’t remember the last time I went there.” His eyes flickered and he ran his hand through his hair.

“Thank you, your Highness!” She said. She bowed and turned. She was about to leave when she suddenly heard him said, "wait! When can I see you again?” he asked?

Her heart leapt into her throat. Of all questions the prince had asked her, this one startled her the most. Does it mean the Prince wants to see her again?

“Hmm? me?” she asked, surprised. Her back was still turned.

“Huh? Yes. You. When can I see you again?”

It was a good thing the Prince couldn’t see her face because she was smiling cheekily and blushing as well. She never thought that someone like the Prince would want to see someone of her status for any reason. To Marie, it doesn’t matter why he asked her if she could see him again. Whether it is for business or personal reasons, she didn’t care. What mattered most was the fact that a Prince wanted to see a commoner like her again. It was beyond the norm.

Still unable to answer the question or give him a direct answer, her eyes twinkled unusually. She tightened her lips and she was somehow nervous. “I really can’t say,” she said. She turned and faced him. “But I think I can make out time if it's necessary. Secondly, I don’t know how tight my schedule would be. But if there will be a need for my presence then sure, I hope I won’t disappoint.”

He nodded. “See you around then,” he said. “And eh—m, nice hair!”

Her eyes instinctively opened more widely and her jaw almost dropped. She was wholly dazzled by the Prince compliment. “Thank you, Your Highness!” She smiled cheekily again.

She wished she could tell the Prince how cute his hair was too. But why couldn't she say it to him? Why couldn't she compliment him just like he complimented her? Was it because of how she was raised? Or was it because she was afraid and it would be improper for her to say those kinds of words to him?

She held unto the scroll carefully while she gently strode in the direction the Prince had given her without saying a word. While she was walking, the image of her eyes seeing and taking note of the Prince's amazing body propped through her head. Her chin was overspread with a cheeky smile. She wondered when she had become a sudden admirer of someone who wasn’t related to her in any way. She had never admired anyone apart from Madam Alice. And never had she gotten the opportunity to be admired or complimented by someone else either. And it happened that on her first day of receiving such a compliment, it came from no other person but a Prince of Zahrin. To her, it is worth celebrating.

Though she preferred her hairstyle the way it was before. The problem is one of the requirements of being a maid demands that any long hair must be lessened in height or you might just barb it off completely. At least, that was what Angie instructed them all to do.

She wanted to shift mental gears so she decided to pay more attention to where she was going. The road that leads to the house was narrow because of the sets of flowers planted on both sides of the walkway. The narrow walkway was tiled by interlacing rectangular shapes which were made with cement. The flowers on the sideways were of different species. The famous snapdragon flowers on the sides were in a combination of white and pink. There were also sunflowers and lilacs lying sideways and behind the flowers in the walkway were carpet grasses whose green colour shone glamorously under the bright and clean weather. There were trees sparingly located in what seemed to be like a field on both sidewalks. At every ten to twenty-foot, you will see a tree behind the other. All were shedding leaves, contributing to the piling up of dirt in the field. Apart from the dirt, the trees played a more role—casting shadows and making the whole place cool. Marie enjoyed the scenery, maybe because she had never been to a place so serene, quiet, and well taken care of. Even the grasses on the sides were of the same height which means that someone was paid or made to take care of them. She smiled. She didn’t exactly know what was amusing her but continued to smile as she tried to trace the place. Her walk came to an abrupt halt when she saw a bungalow just like the Prince described but the problem was that it wasn’t just one that she saw. Just behind it was another bungalow though smaller than the first one. But unlike the first one made with bricks, the second one was made with wood. It looked new and smaller. On the southernmost part, was another bungalow, almost the same size but not the same height as the first one. She became confused about which one it was. The Prince didn’t mention that there was a third or a second house or did he? Wait! Was it supposed to be the Prince who would give her all the necessary details? What about Angie?

She swallowed her spit. She looked again and noticed that the first bungalow was the only one with an iron protector on the corridor. “It must be that one” she snorted. But why does it get the feeling that it was a graveyard and not a bookstore? Everywhere was so dead silent. Apart from the wheezing breeze and the flying leaves, nothing else moved. She strode down to the building. It was more detailed now that she had gotten closer. The window frames in the bungalow were very large enough for a normal eight or seven years old child to pass under without any hindrance and they were all made with glass. There were more than enough windows than it was needed on each side of the walls she had seen so far—the backyard withstanding. The foundation of the house was very tall and there was a metallic stainless frame circling the corridor which was on the right side of the house. Due to the high foundation, a double step led to the spacious corridor before the main door. She went past it and knocked at the door.

“What's your password?” someone inside echoed. She hesitated for while.

“As dark as the sun. As bright as the darkness” she replied. Angie had told her that she would be required to say a few words before she could enter the bookstore. She never expected that it would be in the form of a password that would grant her a pass.

She waited for what seemed like a few moments when she heard the voice said again. “Come on in.”

She entered. She saw an old man, his back little curved. His short hair was styled in the same way most old men in the city styled theirs except for the fact that his grey hair was almost evenly distributed—though few strands in the front of his head still maintained its youthful blackness. His lips were razor-sharp just like that of madam Alice and there were lines of old age at the edge of his lips.

“Good day Sir! I have come to deliver this scroll here. I hope here is the right place?”

“Ah!” he replied.

Marie smiled. “I—I am kind of surprised. Sorry for going off the topic but does it mean you are the only one that stays here? In this…big house?” she let her eyes wander a little in admiration.

“Ah hah!” He nodded with a squinted eyes. Some lines showed across the edges of his eyes. He had a friendly look but his response was... She felt comfortable sounding informal.

“My name is Marie. I am new. May I know your name sir?” she asked.

He gestured with his hand to the door. Marie turned and raised her eyes. She saw “Henchman” perfectly written in black at the top of the wall.

“O that?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Ah hah!”

She felt a little bit disconcerted by his short responses. “Do you ever speak? I mean you have not even said anything yet?”

“Oh!” his brows aligned.

He turned and went to a back chair which was kept under a very long table. Looking around, she couldn’t find a single book or perhaps scrolls stored somewhere in the room. Old candle stands were hanging on the walls. No exit door except the one that led to the entrance of the room. The two shelves that stood on the right side were empty. She furrowed her eyes searchingly hoping to find at least one book but to no avail. The only books she saw were kept on the long wooden table just opposite the entrance door—where Henchman was sitting. If there were no books or scrolls here, then why was it called a bookstore? She queried herself in-between thoughts.

“You have nice furniture here,” she said and smiled. “But there is something I don’t understand. I hope you don’t me asking?” she asked. He was trying to get his attention.

Henchman looked up and his eyes jammed hers. It seemed like he was interested to hear what she wanted to say. But would he admit it or would he not?

“If here is the bookstore, then why are there few books here?” she asked. She kept both hands on the table and rested her weight on it.

He didn’t even nod this time or do anything else. He just kept silent. Marie frowned. What was she expecting anyway? A crusade of preachers? “Oh! I should have known. Where will I keep this sir?” She asked. She struggled to keep her voice as blitheful as possible.

“You don’t need to keep it anywhere, just hand it over to me,” he said with a thick voice. Marie was shocked. She wasn't sure if she felt relieved or if she felt surprised.

“Wait! What! Did you just…” Marie was shocked or was it surprising?