The silence around us grew heavy. I took a moment to steady myself, choosing my words carefully as new questions formed in my mind after his confession.
"If I may ask… Master," I said softly, breaking the quiet, "you didn't treat me this way at first. That's why I was confused when you suddenly began avoiding me…"
He remained standing in front of his desk. All I could see was the side of his face, turned toward nothing at all, his expression empty, as if his thoughts were far away.
"T-The song you played on the piano…" he began, his voice unsteady. "It was the same song my love once played for me, long ago. It was our love song. But then she…"
His words faltered, unable to move forward. He stood there in silence, shoulders stiff. The pause stretched on, every shallow breath he took told me how hesitant he was. The memory weighing heavily on him, the way he took a long time to speak and the way he stuttered before speaking made it clear that he was struggling from within.
I swallowed, my chest tightening. "She… died?" I asked quietly.
His eyes narrowed, and it took him a few seconds before he finally answered. "Indeed…" He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I thought I had buried that memory," he continued, his voice low. "Years passed. I convinced myself I was beyond it. Then you sat at the piano and played that melody as if it still belonged to the present."
A faint, humorless breath escaped him. "I wasn't prepared to hear it again."
As he spoke, the candles around the room dimmed, their flames flickering weakly with each word.
He raised his hand and stared at his palm for a short while. I could hear the sorrow in his voice, and the pain radiating from him.
I took a small step forward, careful not to break the fragile space between us. "So you avoided me…" I asked quietly. "Because I reminded you of her?"
He nodded once. "And it just hurts so much… Whenever I see you, my mind goes back to her. I'm always reminded that she's no longer here with me…"
His hand tightened into a fist before slowly falling back to his side.
His free hand rose to cover his eyes, then slowly slid down to his mouth. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, they looked as though he were on the verge of tears.
"Forgive me," he said in a low voice. "I got… carried away and told you all this…"
He sank into his chair with a weary thud, the sound of it hitting the floor heavy and dull. Resting his elbows on the desk, he ran his hands through his hair and bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. "Damn this…"
I remained where I was, unable to move. He looked broken, and the sight made my chest ache. I wanted to say something, but no words came to mind. His past love had left a deep mark in his heart. She lingered in his memories as grief and pain, clinging to him so tightly that every time he thought of her, or even spoke her name, he becomes like this.
Regret settled in my chest… I wished I hadn't asked anything. My question had only pushed him into speaking about something far too painful.
I lowered my head. I knew too well how much it hurt to lose someone dear, and because of that, I understood how he felt.
"It's-" I began, then stopped myself. Who was I to offer advice? It felt better to keep my words minimal and simply listen. I wasn't even sure if anything I said would help. How could words from a lowly servant ease such pain?
"I-It's fine. I understand the loss of someone dear to us…" I said softly. All I could do now was feel for him, to understand and let him know he was heard.
He didn't respond. My presence seemed to bring him nothing but pain, so I chose to leave after saying my final words.
"If my presence causes you pain, then I will keep my distance… But I hope that someday you'll be able to see me as myself, not as a reminder of what you lost." I said slowly. I continued, "I'll be taking my leave now, Master. I wish for your heart to find rest."
That was all I had to say.
Guilt weighed on me as I turned away, especially when he still looked so broken. I walked toward the door. This time, he didn't stop me nor did he say anything back. I reached for the door handle, but before turning the knob, I paused and looked back at him one last time.
I could no longer see his face. The candles had shrunk, their light barely reaching him, leaving the corners of the room in shadows. I took a slow, steadying breath before finally turning the handle and stepping out of his chambers. The hallway stretched before me, dim and quiet, each candle flickering weakly along the walls as I walked past them. Every step I took felt heavy, as if the weight of the Master's sorrow had somehow followed me out.
When I reached my room, I closed the door behind me. The familiar creak sounded, the same way it always did every night, and for a moment it made me pause. I didn't draw back the curtains to let the moonlight in, the candles had been too weak, and so the moons glow lit up my room.
I sat on the edge of my bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath me. I closed my eyes, letting the quiet of my room ease some of the tension that still lingered from the Master's chambers earlier. Yet, no matter how much I tried, the memory of what had happened there clung stubbornly to my mind.
When I opened my eyes, they wandered across the room before finally settling on the book lying on my bedside table, 'The Monster and the Saint' I stared at it in silence for a short while before I reached out and picked it up, letting my fingers brush along the edges and trace the faint ridges of the embossed title. Then a thought began to form in my mind.
The Master… His past and present makes him the perfect male lead for a book. A vampire, yet not a monster, but a man who had lived in isolation, trapped in the pain of lost love. In fairy tales, the monster meets a saint who heals him from his lonely world. For my Master, too, there would one day be a woman who would save him from his sorrow. She would show him love. Her gentle words would break his chains, and he would grow to love her deeply. Together, they would live happily.
I froze.
For a fleeting moment, a selfish thought crossed my mind, that if I had stayed earlier, if I reached for him back then, perhaps I could have eased even a small part of his pain. But I crushed the thought just as quickly, knowing such a place was never meant for someone like me.
In his story, a lowly commoner like me could never fill that role.
This was as far as I could go.
My eyes blinked, a new idea forming in my mind. Maybe… I could still support him. I could help the Master find a woman to be by his side, someone who could help him move on. Somehow, it felt like the perfect story. A fairy tale unfolding right before me, and I would get to see it through to the end.
I didn't realize then how unfair stories could be.