It had been a week since Milena had found rotten crops in her farm. And a week since she last sent the letter.
Milena had gotten worried that the duke may set aside their problems. After all, maybe the duke is facing greater problems in Elnervale. Still, Milena shakes these thoughts off and grasped to her hopes, and she thought that if she didn't think too much of it, the letter would come by faster.
She carried these thoughts along the concrete side walk of Hilraim town, a basket in her arm filled with fresh fruits, and a pink dress that flows through the wind like a whisper—brushing her ankles.
Milena had been bringing lemons to her own problems—as if life isn't bitter enough. But still, she wishes that this time it would be different. Maybe it would lead to something good for the farm. And if it didn't, then there would be other reasons.
As she made her way to the orphanage her basket snapped.
Before she could even react, the fruits were already rolling through the ground, scattering across the pavement. The apples rolled through the road, the peaches bounced, and oranges spun lazy, mocking a circle on her feet—as if these fruits knew how her week was going.
Milena crouched down to pick up the fruits, she had never felt embarrassed in her life—other than sending a letter to the duke.
She cursed at the snapped basket as she picked up the bruised apple, flustered and burning in embarrasment.
"Definitely, things like this would happen…"As if the week wasn't cruel enough for her.
As soon as she stood up, an automobile pulled up in front of her. A chauffeur stepped outside and opened the door.
Milena didn't wait to see who it was. And without looking back, she turned and went on her way.
From the building emerged a tall man with dark brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a presence that is commanding. Duke Laurus de Venstein.
His gaze drifted across the streets—then paused when he caught a sight of a fruit lying on the pavement. The fruits Milena had forgotten to pick up.
Behind him, is duchess Maurice, his mother—followed with elegance and poise. Her cold sharp eyes landed on the fruit.
"How uncivilized some people are…Leaving their trash anywhere." She remarked calmly with disapproval lacing her voice.
Laurus stayed silent. He walked over and picked up the fruit, and threw it by the nearby bin. He didn't acknowledged his mother's complaint. Instead, he got into the car.
The duchess continued complaining even when the automobile began to move. Laurus didn't listen to one word, he only heard soft blur of his mother's voice—like a distant murmur.
Then, suddenly, Maurice's eyes landed on one girl with strawberry blonde hair walked her way as she hugged her basket.
Maurice narrowed her eyes.
"That girl… That must be her leaving litters across the pavement." Her voice rising in conviction. "She must be punished for her careless actions."
Laurus glanced out the window, he saw a girl hugging a broken basket. He said nothing.
"How improper." Maurice muttered, then she paused. "But she somewhat looked familiar…"
"Lady Elyndis?" The chauffeur offered, glancing at the rearview mirror.
"Yes…" Her expression darkened. "But lady Elyndis is dead." She continued, as if those words were an insult. "Unless, that girl is her daughter."
"She seems to be around her age."
"It seemed." She whispered to herself, glancing at the rearview mirror to catch one last glance of that girl.
The conversation continued between the duchess and the chauffeur. But Laurus didn't pay much attention. His thoughts were occupied with businesses, family affairs, and his duties on Elnervale. He didn't want to waste his time being distracted.
***
Milena arrived at the orphanage, she cradled the basket as if it were a newborn baby. Though it felt heavier each step.
As she approaches the arched doors, Mistress Halle greeted her with a warm smile.
"Goodness Milena. You were just here last week." Halle said, with her voice calm and sweet.
"Of course. It would be an itch if I didn't visit my first home." Milena placed the basket by a nearby table with a sigh.
"Your basket is broken." Mistress Halle noted glancing at the worn handle.
"Well… I had an unfortunate incident back." Milena chuckled and her eyes sparkled. "My basket knew how to make my days worse."
Halle groaned in concern. "Let me take those for you." And took the basket from the table with ease.
Together, they walk towards the lounge where orphaned children played often. As Milena arrived, she was immediately greeted with warm tiny hugs—each children pushing each other, in eager to greet her.
After Milena gave each child warm hugs and play fights, she reached for her broken basket, arranging the remaining fruits that was left. Her warm visit had given joy each children, putting a smile in their faces as they bid their goodbye to her.
Just when she stepped at the front door of the orphanage, Milena hesitated. She looked back at Mistress Halle who is waiting for her to leave.
"Mistress Halle." She calls out, with her voice soft as a wind.
"Yes, dear?" Her eyes turned gentle and wide like a doe. Her tone lacing with concern as she stepped forward.
"I know, I have asked this multiple times." She murmured, her voice above a whisper. "I've always dreamed of finding my parents—"
"Milena..." Halle reaches for her hand, clasping it softly.
Milena's throat tautened. "I wish to see my parents." She puts her head down—looking at the ground. "There must be something..." She looks back up. "Is there anything you remember?
Mistress Halle shook her head, thinning her lips. "No dear... It was just a maid who brought you hear."
"Well... Do you know where this maid is? Milena gripped Halle's hand.
"No..." Her voice shakes. "She only told me to keep you safe."
Milena lets go of Halle's hand—slipping her fingers like a thin cloth dragged by the wind.
She said nothing else more but a long sigh of her disappointment. She had carried this question in her twenty-two years. Yet, she couldn't even find a clue.
"I'm sorry, dear."
Milena shook her head slightly. "No. It's alright." She masked a smile. "I must go now."
Mistress Halle nods. "Take care, Milena." Her last words filled with warmth.
As Milena turns around, she started to bury her past like she always did—there were no other choice for her.
She didn't glanced back at the orphanage as she walked. She only felt her heartbeat that was pacing slowly, but each beat was a sting. She didn't cry—she endured her lost past.
She promised herself from now on to not question her past. Because the present is what matters the most.
That's what she thought.
But as she walk along the pavement, she kept seeing happy families enjoying. She couldn't experience that feeling, all she can do is smile for them. Moreover, She has granny Dawn and Alena.
She told herself that none of it matters.
But as she passes by the flea market, her footsteps slowed and her eyes landed on a stall that were selling trinkets, books, old brooches, and other old stuff that were laid on wooden crates like a faded memory.
The vendors calls out. "These items are from the late noble family's estate! Prices depend on their condition." He winked.
Milena locked her eyes onto the silver necklace that was resting on the table. It was peculiar and delicate. It was a heart split in two, but the other half isn't there.
She reaches for the necklace.
"That's 1500 Virans." The vendor goes closer to Milena.
Her hands were just hovered above the necklace, her sense of curiosity faded as soon as she heard the price.
She stepped back and met the vendor's gaze, it was no longer friendly.
"Never mind." She smiled and turned around without waiting his reply, and the vendor just rolled his eyes on Milena.
By the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of someone standing by the corner. That person was somewhat eerily familiar.
And then, he vanished into a shadow.