Chapter 86: Embrace
It was already getting dark. Rose and Naomi sat in the dining hall of the mansion, their plates untouched as they waited. The air felt still, almost heavy, with an unspoken anticipation that neither of them fully understood. Rows of chefs stood silently by the walls, their hands clasped neatly in front of them, their faces blank as statues. Rose’s gaze wandered over them, curious yet wary. There was something about their stillness that felt unnatural, even eerie, but she chose to keep her questions to herself, assuming they were simply waiting for someone to taste the food first.
Her attention shifted to the dishes laid out before them, her eyes catching on a vibrant fruit salad. Its colors were a perfect medley of reds, yellows, and greens, glistening under the chandelier’s light. It was her favorite, and the sight of it instantly lifted her mood. Without a second thought, she reached out eagerly, serving herself a portion. As soon as she took her first bite, one of the chefs stepped forward, bowed deeply, and quietly exited the hall.
Rose froze mid-chew, her fork poised in midair. Her eyes widened as she followed the chef’s retreating figure, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "What was that about?" she muttered, mostly to herself, before brushing off the thought and returning to her salad.
Naomi, however, remained calm. Once she had served herself, another chef mirrored the same action—bowing silently before leaving the hall. Rose leaned closer to her friend, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Is this how it always is?"
Naomi nodded, her expression soft. "Yes." Her tone carried a finality that discouraged further questions.
Rose leaned back in her chair, her mind spinning. There was something unsettling about the whole scene, yet Naomi seemed entirely unaffected. The mansion felt like a world of its own, operating on rules she couldn’t comprehend. It wasn’t just luxurious—it was intimidating, almost otherworldly. The chefs weren’t ordinary staff; they were more like symbols of power and influence, the kind her father’s wealth couldn’t buy. For the first time, Rose realized just how small her family’s fortune was in comparison. This wasn’t just wealth—this was dominance.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. Rose couldn’t deny the food was exquisite, unlike anything she’d ever tasted before. Each bite felt like a revelation, the flavors so perfectly balanced they almost demanded reverence. Yet, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest. For Naomi, however, the mansion seemed to be a refuge—a haven far removed from the harshness of her own home. Rose wondered if her friend had found a kind of peace here, or if the calm exterior masked something deeper.
After the meal, the two friends shared a warm goodbye. Rose hugged Naomi tightly before leaving it was already getting dark her parents would be worried to death if she did not come home. Naomi watched her leave, a soft smile lingering on her lips, before heading upstairs to her room.
Once inside, she closed the door with a quiet click and exhaled. The day had been long, and all she wanted was to unwind. She slipped out of her dress and headed straight for the bathroom, picking out a black silk nightgown to wear afterward. It was long and elegant, its sleek fabric a sharp contrast to the simpler white ones she usually preferred. Running her fingers over the smooth material, she allowed herself a small moment of indulgence.