Why had he remembered her now, after so long?
He had seemed so very tired to her eyes. Was that why he had come? She had seen a loneliness in his expression that had pierced her. If only she could have been the one to heal him—how she regretted, now more than ever, her own foolishness.
A cold wind of evening swept over her and made her body tremble, breaking her reverie. Ashe turned back into the house. Without thinking, she climbed the stairs and walked toward the east corner room on the second floor.
Only Ashe and the head maid possessed the key to that room.
She unlocked the door and quietly stepped inside.
This was Ashe's secret room.
The only one allowed to clean it was the head maid.
The wooden floor shone spotless without a speck of dust.
In the center stood a small bed.
On the floor rested a charming wooden rocking horse. Beneath the window sat a tiny chair with a cushion laid on it. On the shelves were picture books, wooden blocks, and a small wooden sword.
