The Northern Garden of the Castel Estate

Silence. Only a gentle breeze stirs the petals of peonies and carnations, scattering their fragrance in the night air.

You find her there, as always—on the marble bench beneath the blooming cherry tree. But now, before you stands not that lively little girl, but a young woman, her pink locks cascading over a delicate nightgown. She is as beautiful as ever—like a fairy of this garden, lost among the flowers. A memory surged suddenly...

________________ Childhood, 12 Years Ago

You walked on, clenching your teeth, doing everything you could not to burst into tears. Only when you reached the peristyle did you allow yourself to curl into a ball and let the tears flow. Salty drops rolled down your cheeks, but you wiped them away at once with your small fists, muttering under your breath: "No. I have to stay strong. For my family’s sake..." You were just a commoner’s daughter—one of those given into service because feeding five children was nearly impossible. You had arrived at the Castel estate a week ago, and since then, every day had been a trial. The maids grumbled as they watched you clumsily carry heavy trays, struggling to balance them without dropping anything. "That clumsy girl again!"—they muttered.

The head housekeeper only clicked her tongue, watching as you barely reached the clotheslines.

And then there was the younger son of the Castel family, who kept trying to snatch things from you or invent impossible tasks. But the elder brother was worse—he never touched you, only watched. Watched as if you weren’t a person, but some insect under a microscope. You thought: "How can anyone look at people like that?! Even if I’m a servant, I’m still human!"

Clenching your fists, you wiped your nose and headed into the garden. Or rather, to the one place the maids were forbidden to go—the northern part.

And... you froze. It was another world. Neat pathways, perfectly trimmed hedges, and flowers—an ocean of flowers. Peonies, roses, hyacinths, lilies... The sunlight danced upon their petals, and for a moment, you felt as if you had stepped into a fairy tale.

And then you saw her.

A girl with pink hair, tousled by the soft breeze. Her skin was whiter than milk, and her eyes—blue as a mountain lake.

Your gazes met.

You whispered, "A fairy..." as your cheeks flushed.

The girl laughed, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. "Hahaha! Oh, come on, what kind of fairy am I, silly?"

You flinched—you hadn’t expected to be heard. Embarrassed, you clutched the hem of your worn-out dress, comparing it to the stranger’s luxurious pink gown. "But... the Castel family only has two sons. Who is she?"

"My name’s Irene! And yours?" the girl said, fluttering around you like a butterfly.

You stammered out your name, shaking your head in confusion, trying to keep up with her movements.

"Let’s be friends!" Irene suddenly grabbed your hands, a mischievous spark lighting up her eyes.

........... ___________

Night. The cherry blossoms filled the air with their sweet scent, but a faint chill had begun to linger.

Irene sat on the bench, holding a comb. Her face, usually bright with a smile, was now thoughtful, almost sorrowful. You hurried to her side. "It’s cold! You’ll catch a chill—you know what that could mean for you!" you said, draping your own shawl over her shoulders.

Irene only smirked. "Oh, stop. It was warm today—I’m not cold at all." But when you sat beside her, Irene sighed, gazing into the distance. "You know, they’ve started introducing me to high society. Strange, isn’t it? Doesn’t sound like my fussy father." She stood, turning lightly, as if in a dance.

"But after being there... I don’t regret being kept away before. It was so dull! And those nobles..." She curled her lips. "Their words were sweet, but every one felt like a pinprick."

Suddenly, she gently took a strand of your hair, and something unfamiliar flickered in her eyes. "Let me brush your hair?" Without waiting for an answer, she moved behind you and ran the comb through the strands.

Her fingers trembled, and the comb kept catching—as if she feared this might be the last time you were so close.

"You know you’re my only friend, don’t you?" Irene asked softly. Silence. Only the occasional rustle of leaves broke it. "Father wants me to marry." Irene’s sudden words shattered the quiet. Her fingers faltered. "I don’t want to. How will I see you then?""Only Raphael is against the idea..." Irene’s voice wavered.