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A nice smile
publish date:
2026-07-29 10:58:34
Latest chapter
Beneath His Isolation Sleep for two
I followed Kent down the hall. He had a pace that wasn't rushed, but I struggled to keep up.After some moments of silent walking, he opened the kitchen door, expecting me to follow him. "I'll go and brew the tea... And I should probably get those pastries Agnes prepared for you earlier. I know you refused them, but maybe now you'll have an appetite." I said, walking past the kitchen tables, my words shaking anxiously.Kent just nodded and sat down at the table closest to the door.I walked to the pantry, forcing its rusty hinges to open for me. The space itself was rather clean, but there were definitely signs of aging. Dust in places most maids can't reach, scuffs where boxes of spices were often moved, and a lingering smell of teas, peppers, oils, tallow, and other common cooking aids.I started looking for the tea Mrs. Agnes always made since its warmth and flavor seemed always to calm me.Scanning each shelf, I honestly got distracted by all of the stuff that was back here. Next
Beneath His Isolation A nice smile
After I left Master Hawthorne, I went into my servant's quarters for the night.His face was cemented into my mind almost...I couldn't shake the image, couldn't help but wonder how he would look with a real smile on his face.Why did he have to be alone?Why was he always so stiff and gloomy?Why did he never have trips with friends or invite friends over for dinner?Could someone really be okay with living in absolute silence?Despite my curiosity, as I lay on my bed restless, I couldn't risk my job by asking these questions. I just hope that he isn't in a bad place right now, that he chose this lifestyle.I decided to try and force myself to sleep with some tea, so I got up out of my bed to make my way to the kitchen. I wanted to move quietly, because this house had a 'forbidden' feel to it in the dark. I moved slowly towards my door and tried opening it in a way that wouldn't squeak.I slipped into the hallway and walked carefully in the direction of the kitchen. Passing the main
Beneath His Isolation Newcomer on the doorstep
-Inside of Kent's Journal-Letter 3,106.Hey Mom,I am writing to you again, just as any other day. Perhaps someday I will send you one of these writings.It seems as though I must write every day to clear my mind. It only lasts just a moment, I wish my mind could stop troubling me so muchI plan on staying in the study today, and I know I do every day. But plans can always change, knowing how unpredictable life can be at times.I can not help but follow this routine of constant work. I wish my brother taught me how he had so much free time. He just took time to relax and do the things he loved. I honestly do not even know what I love anymore...He would also find a way to take me hunting, boating, and on our little trips. He spent a lot of time talking to staff too. The halls miss his laughter just as much as I do. This house feels empty, just as my heart does... I forgot the last time I smiled. I suppose everyone suffers around me, because no one dares to show any joy or interest a
Beneath His Isolation Patterned living
-Inside of Kent's Journal-Letter 3,103.Hey Mom,It has been many years since I have seen you. I hope you can hear about my achievements. I've been working so hard to make an impression on all the townsfolk, both rich and poor.I heard that Dad finally allowed you to have a proper burial for brother, despite his origins. I hope one day you will come back home, maybe even introduce me to Dad. I know you do not truly love him, and that is why you left me behind. I have his blood running through my veins, something I can not change...I made 24 today, and I guess this is why I am writing to you in a journal you will never see. I should be grateful, I mean, you gave me the main estate and the family's business, even after what I had done.I'm...I'm sorry for what I have done, for what I am. I truly loved the two of you, I wish my brother were still here. Maybe we could have been sitting on the bench together and eating your favorite cherry pie..Or, drawing each other in poses at the
Beneath His Isolation The forgotten portrait, a crack forming in his mask
The midday sun beat down on the cobblestone courtyard, casting harsh shadows across the kitchen entrance where I stood, shaking out a damp linen tablecloth. My mind was still tangled in the thorny wildness of the hidden rose garden and the quiet intensity of Kent’s voice. 'Wild things usually are.' The phrase echoed in my head like a melody I couldn't quite shake."You're going to tear a hole in that if you snap it any harder, Catherine," Agnes said, leaning against the doorframe with a basket of fresh rosemary tucked against her hip.I paused mid-motion, the damp fabric hanging limply between my hands. "Sorry. I was just... thinking."Agnes stepped onto the porch, her sharp eyes studying my face with maternal concern. "You've been doing a lot of thinking since you got back from the east terrace. Vance was down here five minutes ago asking if your morning duties were complete." She lowered her voice, taking a step closer. "He didn't look pleased, Catherine. He doesn't like it when t
Beneath His Isolation First time setting foot in his mother's garden
I made it as far as the study door before I lost my nerve.The light beneath it had already gone dark, and when I pressed my ear to the wood, I heard nothing but the settling creak of an old house. Whether Master Hawthorne had retired for the night or simply extinguished his lamp to discourage visitors, I couldn't say. Either way, knocking felt like inviting exactly the kind of scrutiny I had promised myself to avoid.So I carried the sketchbook back to my room instead. I set it on the nightstand, propped against the stub of a burning candle, and told myself I would return it first thing in the morning, before anyone noticed it was missing. Twice in the night I woke to find my hand resting on the worn leather cover, and twice I pulled it back as though the thing had scalded me. By the time grey morning light crept through my window, I had convinced myself that returning it unopened was its own kind of victory.That resolve lasted exactly as long as it took me to reach the study and f
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