“Everybody dies, chasing time that they never had, wondering about a future full of ifs.” The curtains were closed long ago, and yet I was still up. The sunlight, creeping through the gaps was still too bright for me, but it didn’t force me to fall asleep like it did last time as it didn’t hit my eyes directly. Laying on the sofa, I placed the book on my chest and gave my visitor a gentle smile.

“You do know that there is a sofa in the next room?” Said the lord of this mansion, Arthur. If he was angry about my actions, but he certainly hid it masterfully and wore a rather wry smile on his face.

“Is it as good as this one?” He didn’t reply to my question directly. Instead, he leaned against the door and scratched his head as if he had fleas.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I´m not the type of person that is interested in sofas or what you make of this room.” He eyed the pile of books in the corner but soon returned to look at me. “Why are you reading a book about philosophy?”

“It is covering a rather interesting topic. Well, the author of this book must have been damn sick for studying how people felt while dying. Using necromancy as a tool is quite an ingenious way though. But hey, who am I to judge? I mean, it is one of the first books I am reading after all.” I looked at him carefully and tried to discern his opinion about necromancy which seemed to be forbidden in this country, but he was rather nonchalant about it.

“Being interested in death while living is certainly not healthy.” For several seconds, I thought about his words and couldn’t really deny them. And yet, death was a part of me similarly to my left hand, so it was natural to be interested in what others thought about it.

“Healthy or not, it is an interesting read.” Although I couldn’t refute his words, it still got on my nerves that he tried to berate me.

“I am just concerned about your health. On a similar topic, you do know that the maid you met during the night has been sentenced to death?” For a short moment, I didn’t know what he wanted from me. I was mostly confused, but also quite annoyed. Confused because I couldn’t understand why she had to die and annoyed because he brought that up. I mean, did he expect any empathy from me or why did he tell me that now? I breathed out strongly and said what he probably expected from me.

“When? Where?” I asked, supressing a yawn because it felt just a bit … boring.

“As soon as the sun sets completely, she will hang in the garden.” With this information, he left me alone with my books. I really didn’t know what to do, or what was expected from me. Did he want me to stand up for her? Or why did he set the execution at that time? Or was it all a lie and she was still free? And what was she punished for? For entering his room? Or was it a show of strength, in particular to present me how easy it was for someone to die who didn’t follow Arthurs oders?

I chuckled lightly as I picked up my fascinating, yet disturbing book again and continued to read. After a few hours, I had another visitor. It wasn’t Markus who I kind of expected to storm into the room and start a fight, but rather a woman who was nearly as old as the lord which was around thirty years. She wore fine clothing yet seemed to be a bit emaciated. Her blue eyes didn’t show any fear as she looked into mine, but rather a hint of curiosity and something that I could only interpret as excitement. In a dress as white as mine, she strolled through the room towards my sofa where she sat down in the only place I didn’t occupy. My feet were mere centimetres away from her as she picked up a book I already skimmed through and began reading. After a few seconds of silence, I picked up my own book again and resumed where I stopped. I caught her looking over to me more than once and yet, she waited an hour to begin talking.

“I have to admit that a sofa in this room is a brilliant idea.” She said as she finally put her book on her lap.

“That’s it? It took you an hour of pretending to read a book to come up with this icebreaker?” I put my book away as well, annoyed that I only managed to read a few chapters in the last hour.

“How did you notice? You were always reading so … I messed up while turning the pages, didn’t I?” I whistled in approval. It was too irregular if she really read the book. “I am truly sorry for deceiving you this way … my name is Mary White. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“My name is Lucinda, but you do already know that, don’t you?” She was the lady of this house, which made it really hard to believe that she didn’t know my name yet.

“On the contrary. Sadly, I am rather ostracized in this mansion and so, the maids only interact with me if necessary.” I stared into her eyes, trying to find out if she spoke the truth. Either she was a really good liar, or she was a fool for saying that this easily. I wasn’t entirely sure, and so I picked up the second book I skimmed over that day, opened page four and turned the book around so that she had a perfect view of the content. It was a family tree, or more specific, her family tree.

“Tell me, how does it feel to get married just because of what you were born into? How does it feel to lose control over the fortune and influence your ancestors built up?” It didn’t have to mean anything that the lord had black hair while wearing the White´s name. And yet, I was still a bit curious and was rather lucky that this room had a book about noble family trees, including that of the ducal White family.

Her reaction to my question was immediate and although Mary tried to hide it, she did show me two things. For once, she was a good liar, but not good enough to trick me on important matters. Her eyes opened a bit more and her pulse was faster, although ever so slightly. My guess has been on point.

“Living in a cage is never a great experience, no matter if you are a canary or a pigeon.” Her words struck a nerve that I didn’t know was there. She remembered me of the time I spent dying underwater as if it was just the day before … maybe because I died till the day before that …

“And yet the canary is praised for its beauty while the pigeon can be happy if it doesn’t starve.” I said, pointing out the stark difference between real and her imprisonment.

“At least the pigeon can die, while the canary is forcefully fed, forever cursing it to stay on the ground, unable to fly freely.” Said Mary and chuckled quietly. There was a truth in her words that I wasn’t able to deny outright. Although both birds lived in a shitty situation, maybe the pigeon truly had it better.

“Say … pigeon or canary?” I tilted my head while I said that. Her answer was rather unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.

“A canary that still wishes to fly. Will you help said poor canary?” I honestly had no reason to help her at all. Even the benefits I could get out of it were abysmal in comparison to what I could get in the army and the risks were way too high. And yet, something was irking me to take the risk and help her. Maybe it was my desire for a secure sleeping place, maybe something else. Even though I knew my own feelings very well, this time there was something new. Something I couldn’t put into words. Sadly, I still couldn’t accept her proposal right then.

“A canary that gets freed from its cage usually ends up in another. It is foolish to set them free.” She was disappointed by my words but I could also see acceptance in her eyes. She wasn’t struggling against her fate anymore which I found disappointing in return. The conversation died down as awkwardly as it started and she soon stood up to leave the room. Just as she was about to open the door, she turned her head around.

“The maid that is supposed to be executed … it is a ruse, she is one of his most loyal servants.” Like this, she left the room with a crucial bit of information to think about.