The blond-haired young man's voice disrupted the forces manipulating Elaine's emotions. Heavy fog lifted from her mind, replaced by numerous questions. Why was Cecil outside? Did he obstruct the door? Had he been guarding the entire night? She released her grip and leaned close, whispering, "What are you doing here, Sir Ascania?"
"You must not listen to the temptation, milady," he cautioned instead of answering her question. "The rewards promised to you are mere illusions."
"Can you hear the voices too?"
"No, I cannot," he admitted.
"Then how…" Elaine wiped the tears from her cheeks as the terrifying cognizance dawned. Without Cecil's timely interruption, she would have willingly walked to her death. Though her chest still tightened when remembering her parents, Elaine was no longer under the voices' control.
"I am tasked with protecting you, milady. I will always be by your side when you need me."
His gentle assurance soothed Elaine's anxiety and returned her composure. "I know you will, Sir Ascania." She settled on the floor, resting her back against the door. Of all the book characters she encountered, Cecil's personality and behaviors stayed the most similar to those in the original story. Elaine had little doubt of his loyalty. "How many days—"
"Ell, honey. Why are you not coming upstairs? Do you not love us anymore?" the entity mimicking her mother again beckoned, interrupting Elaine's question. "All I want is for us three to be together. We love you very much, sweetheart." The voice still resembled her mother, yet it contained a subtle distortion—morphing between a melodic tone to a baritone, guttural sound.
"If you abandon us, you will regret this moment for the rest of your life," chimed the entity using Johnathan's voice. "You would not want that, would you?" he sneered.
"They're back." Elaine's heart thundered while shivers crawled down her body. The subdued emotions again emerged, entwined with anxiety and dread. She covered her ears, attempting to block the attack. How long would she have to tolerate these creatures' provocations?
“Stay strong, milady. Do not listen to the entities' taunts," Cecil said. "As long as you don't look for them, they cannot harm you."
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Despite Elaine's efforts, the otherworldly voices still seeped through. "Ell, how can you be so cold-hearted toward your family?" Cynthia screamed. "Do you want us to suffer? You are killing us. It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault—"The screech intensified, like clashing cymbals assailing Elaine's eardrums. She heard several high-pitched noises followed by crackles as crimson liquids flowed from her ears.
The accusations using her mother's voice stabbed her with painful precision. Elaine's breathing became shallow as cold sweats poured from her forehead. The psychological tortures inflicted on her were more excruciating than any physical injuries she previously endured. Her eyes darted through the room. Her maid, Mariam, remained in a deep, undisturbed slumber. It appeared the creatures' primary target tonight was only Elaine. While the night-blanketed world around her maintained its tranquility, a war waged inside her head. The cacophony of sounds battled for dominance, puncturing her skull like thousands of sharp needles.
The door creaked open, and a hand appeared, catching her arm and pulling her outside. Elaine stumbled toward the hallway and into a firm embrace. "Focus on my voice, milady," Cecil whispered. His arms gently enveloped her. "Please allow me to tell you a story. Once, long ago, a young boy lived happily with his family. His father was a quiet and upstanding man. The Emperor recognized his father's talents and entrusted him with several important tasks. His mother was a beautiful and kind woman. Despite her high status, she would enter the kitchen daily and bake delicious desserts for the young boy and his siblings. The father knew his youngest son loved to read and would return home carrying many fascinating books after completing his official duties. The boy's parents ensured him a peaceful life, blissfully ignorant of the outside world and harsh reality…"
Elaine rested her head on Cecil's chest, concentrating on the story and his rhythmic heartbeats. She could still discern the shouts and insults from far away, yet all noises besides the blond-haired young man's voice had significantly quieted. Her eyelids sagged, engulfed by an overwhelming somnolence. She could not hear the continuation of Cecil's story before succumbing to the darkness.
The following morning, Elaine woke up to Mariam's cheerful greetings. The young maid was shuffling about, preparing breakfast on the table. "Did you hear anything last night?" Elaine asked.
"No, milady. Did something happen?" Mariam cocked her head, and a question mark appeared on her countenance. She was oblivious to the previous night's disturbance. "Milady was still sleeping when
I woke up this morning. So I went to the kitchen to retrieve your breakfast."
Was it all a dream? Elaine could not recall how she returned to bed. Did Cecil bring her back? She touched her ears. Though injured last night, Elaine's hearing had returned. "Where is Sir Ascania?" Perhaps Cecil could corroborate her recollection of yesterday's event.
"Sir Ascania is guarding outside, milady."
Elaine immediately sprung from her bed and marched to the door. The blond-haired young man was standing on the other side when she opened it. Upon seeing her, he inclined his body. "Were you guarding here last night?" she quizzed.
"Yes, Lady Estella," he replied.
"Then…," she mumbled. "It really was not a dream." Elaine felt relieved that her mind had yet to descend into insanity. However, unanswered problems and indescribable horror quickly replaced her brief sense of relief. Somehow, these supernatural entities knew her deepest secrets. Elaine shuddered, and her thoughts drifted to the consequences if others discovered her origin. She did not want to be executed before completing Estella's storyline.
"Milady, are you unwell?" Mariam inquired after noticing Elaine's pale complexion.
"No, I—"
"Her Ladyship must be hungry since no one has served her breakfast yet," Cecil interjected.
"Please forgive me, milady." The young maid bobbed her head, realizing her mistake. She hurried back to the table and laid out the remaining dishes.