Chapter 2- A stranger at night

ONE YEAR LATER

Valerie's POV:

As I brushed Mira's golden locks, the soft strokes felt like a rhythm playing in my mind, up and down, soothing and calming. Today was the day the royal family would arrive at Weldon's mansion for a three-day stay, which we'd been preparing for months. Willow dale-the capital city of Eldrida and where we live was buzzing with excitement, and my ear was filled with one name: Prince Nova.

"Mira, you've mentioned him a million times already," I teased, smiling. "I think you're a bit obsessed."

Mira's cheeks flushed, but she couldn't help herself. "Do you think he'll like me? Do you think he'll even look at me?" Her voice trembled, revealing her worry.

I said with confidence, "He'll love you, Mira! He'd be a fool not to." I took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You're kind, beautiful, and intelligent. What's not to love?"

Mira turned to me, her eyes shining with gratitude, and smiled. "Thank you. Thank you for being here."

"I always will be," I promised, believing my own words.

With a nod, Mira's tension eased, and we continued preparing for the royal arrival.

★★★

As I made my way out of the grand reception room that was finely decorated for the royal family's arrival, I couldn't help but think about the inner workings of Weldon's mansion. There were eight of us maids, but only three were trusted to clean the family's rooms on the upper floor - and I was one of them. It was a privilege, really, but also a lot of pressure.

Our butler, Mr. Malcolm, was a man in his late 40s with a kind face but a strict demeanor. He ran the household with precision and expected nothing but perfection from us. Then there was the cook, Mrs. Flynn, and her husband, the chef, who were always busy in the kitchen, whipping up delicious meals. They were a lovely couple, and I enjoyed chatting with them when I could. We also had two young kitchen staff, Emily and Lydia, who were around my age and always had a smile on their faces.

Of course, there was also the gardener, James, who kept the grounds immaculate, and the chauffeur, Michael, who drove the family wherever they needed to go. Magna was the footman, he assisted Mr. Malcolm and ran errands through out the mansion; thinking about him was a little painful but I pushed it down. And then there were the guards, who were always present but never intrusive. They were also waiters who served only on special occasions like today. Our head maid, Alia Mambo, was a mother figure to us all, and I had grown particularly close to her over the past year. Sometimes, I would even babysit her daughter, Willow, who was now six years old and full of energy.

I got changed and prepared to leave around 8 pm. I was really relieved because I didn't want to serve the royal family - I wouldn't know how to act in front of them, and the thought of it made me nervous. I said goodbye to Mira, who tried to convince me to stay, but I couldn't. "Good luck, Mira," I whispered, as she hugged me tightly.

I also made sure to bid farewell to Alia Mambo, who gave me a warm smile and a pat on the back. "Take care, Valerie. See you tomorrow." I nodded and headed out into the cool evening air.

As I walked down the familiar path to my house, I felt a sense of comfort in the crisp autumn air. The trees surrounding me were shedding their leaves, turning golden brown and crunching beneath my feet. I wore a long trench coat gifted by Mira, faded jeans, and warm boots. Underneath the trench coat, I had on a black t-shirt.

As I strolled, I put my hand in my pocket and whistled a tune - "Lost in the Haze" by my favorite band, Echoes in the Dark. I loved their music, especially their lead singer and leader, Max Well. The band consisted of Max, lead guitarist Rachel Chen with her brother, bassist Mike Chen, and drummer Chris Martin. I had always dreamed of meeting them, but they weren't very popular in Calonia.

I reached into my pocket to get my phone but it was malfunctioning again. I had tried repairing it, but it wouldn't work properly, and buying a new one wasn't a priority given our financial situation. Mira had offered to buy me a new phone, but I refused, wanting to earn everything I had through my own hard work. After a few hits on the palm of my hand, the phone finally came to life.

As I walked while operating my phone, I noticed a man in a black hoodie pulled over his head struggling to start his motorcycle. I stopped and approached him, remembering how my dad, had taught me to repair motorcycles when I was younger. "Hello, good sir," I said politely. He looked up, but his face was partially covered by a scarf, revealing only his captivating sea-green eyes with specks of gold - a rare and striking feature.

"I see you're struggling with your motorcycle," I observed.

He turned to me, "Well, yes my lady." my lady? He seemed nice but his voice was muffled by the scarf.

"Could I take a look?"I asked, and he raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my offer. I reassured him, "don't worry, sir, my dad is a carriage master, and I have seen him repair motorcycles all my life." He hesitated but stepped back, allowing me to examine the bike.

The bike was a rare and expensive model, a 2022 Ducati Paniqale V4 SP. It was hard to acquire, especially in Calonia, and I could tell it was well-maintained.

"It needs a new spark plug," I explained, "Do you have one?" He shook his head, and I offered, "No biggie, I'll just get one from my workplace, which isn't far from here."

He protested, "I can't let you, kind lady." I noticed he was stubborn but I was more stubborn than him.

I insisted, "I'll just grab it, and besides, my workplace isn't far." I could see he was wealthy, and his reluctance was likely due to not wanting to trouble me. I tried again, "Sir, picture me as your carriage master; I've checked your motorcycle and ascertained the problem. It's my job to finish it."

He still looked unconvinced, but I added, "I insist. You can hold my bag as collateral, so I'll have a reason to come back." I handed him my bag, containing my phone and other essentials.

He took it reluctantly and said softly, "Thank you" I smiled and dashed back towards the Weldon's mansion.

After running for 5 minutes I finally entered the grand foyer of the Weldon's mansion, hoping and praying that I wouldn't bump into the royal family. Instead I collided with Alia, who was hurrying down the stairs. Alia's eyes widened in surprise, her brows furrowed in concern.

"Valerie, what are you doing here? I thought you had finished your duties and left for the day," She asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

I hesitated, "I, uh, forgot something."

Alia's gaze narrowed, "Forgot something? Where's your bag?"

My cheeks flushed and I admitted, "It's with someone. I helped a man whose bike broke down and I came to get a spark plug for him, he's holding my bag for me."

Alia's expression turned incredulous, "You what?! You trusted a stranger with your belongings?"

My mind raced, thinking about how I had indeed trusted someone I couldn't even see clearly, but he seemed nice and was obviously wealthy, so what could he possibly want with my old phone and almost empty bag? My mother's words echoed in my mind, Valerie, always prioritize caution, but never forget kindness.

"I know it was stupid, Alia, but in the moment, it felt right. And he seems rich, so what would he want with my things?" I explained, my voice laced with a hint of defensiveness.

Alia sighed defeatedly, "The spark plug is in the garage. Here's the key." She handed me the key, her expression softening. As the head maid, Alia had access to almost all the keys in the house, except for the family's private rooms.

My face lit up with relief, "Thank you, Alia!" I hugged her briefly, my gratitude palpable.

Alia smiled fondly at me, her eyes shining with a sisterly love, despite not being related by blood. She whispered softly, "Be careful, Valerie."

I nodded, "I will, thank you."

★★★

The kind lady's bag remained with him, a gentle reminder of her presence. He couldn't help but think that he'd never met anyone as kind as her, except for his mother. But the pain of losing his mother still lingered, a constant ache that he tried to push away.

Just then, the bag began to vibrate, and he knew someone's phone was ringing inside. He opened the bag and found the phone, its cracked screen a testament to its age. The caller ID read "Mum," and a photo of her mother appeared on the screen. He was struck by the resemblance between the girl and her mother - the same nose, lips, jawline, and piercing eyes. He caught himself searching for similarities and wondered why he was doing so.

He put the phone back in the bag, a long-strapped, worn leather satchel, and waited for her return. The street lamps cast a warm glow, lining the quiet street with trees that seemed to whisper in the gentle breeze. Crickets provided a soothing background hum, and he breathed in the night air, feeling a sense of freedom he hadn't experienced in a long time. He felt his worries gently fade away.

Five minutes passed, and the girl appeared, her brown hair messy and sweaty, but still radiant. Her smile lit up the night, and he found himself captivated by her charm.

Valerie's POV:

As I approached, I felt relieved that he was still there, even though I trusted he wouldn't leave. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and I quickly put the spark plug in the motorcycle's engine. I held my breath and started the bike, and sure enough, I heard the unmistakable hum of the engine roaring to life. I sighed in relief, my shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.

The man bowed and said, "Thank you, kind lady."

I smiled and reached out for my bag. "Your mom called," he said, his eyes apologetic.

I felt a mix of emotions: surprise, curiosity, and a hint of wariness. "Oh?" I replied, unsure what to say.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I checked your phone. I shouldn't have, but I wanted to see if it was urgent." I wasn't angry, he was a kind gentleman, so far other people would have done more than that. His apologetic tone and awkward demeanor put me at ease.

I reassured him, "You don't have to apologize, good sir." His eyes smiled, and I felt my breath catch - his eyes came alive in a way that stole my breath away. They sparkled with warmth and kindness, and I felt like I was drowning in their depths.

As he boarded his bike, he asked, "Where are you going, my lady?"

I replied, "I'm going home," puzzled by his question.

"Well, let me drop you off."

I gasped, "That's too much to ask, sir. Besides, my house isn't far from here."

He insisted, "That's enough reason for me to drop you off. I want to repay you."

I stuttered, "It's...just...I haven't ridden on a motorcycle before." There I said it.

"I thought your dad repaired bikes?" he asked genuinely puzzled

I explained, "Well, we never ride on them. They wouldn't let us, and we don't have enough money to buy one." This time, I didn't feel ashamed.

His eyes sparkled, and he said, "I guess it will be your first and definitely not your last time." I couldn't say no; I was intrigued.

He helped me wear a black helmet, his fingers grazing my jaw, I felt an unexplainable spark of electricity through me.

I got on the bike behind him, refusing his help. He said, "Hold on tight." As we took off, I felt an exhilarating rush. My heart was racing fast, but I felt free.

I removed the helmet and put it on my lap and held on to the man riding the bike. I wanted to cherish the moment, and I closed my eyes, feeling the breeze rush through my curls. I knew he noticed, but in that moment, I didn't care. I felt alive.

_____

I directed him to my porch, and we both dismounted. I handed him the helmet, and he took it, his fingers brushing against mine. "You know, you should have left your helmet on," he said seriously, but his eyes twinkled mischievously.

I grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I know, I'm sorry. I'll put it on next time."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "So, there will be a next time?"

I hoped there was. I really wanted to ride again on his motorcycle. "I'd like that," I said.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd like that too."

I gestured towards the door. "Do you want to come in for tea? It's not that late."

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I have to refuse, my lady. I have an important place to be right now." He sounded like he'd rather be here instead, but I thought I imagined it.

I nodded understandingly. "I guess another time, then?"

He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. "Yes, my kind lady. Another time."

As he got on his bike, he turned to me and said, "You've really made the next part of this night bearable." He winked, but his eyes were serious. I didn't understand what he meant, but I felt flattered for some odd reason.

"Good night, sir," I said as he started his bike.

"Good night, my lady," he replied, then added, "Please don't call me sir."

I smiled. "Then please don't call me lady."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made me feel all warm inside. I decided then that I liked his laugh, liked the way it made me feel like I was the only person in the world.

He waved and took off into the night, his bike roaring away into the distance. I stood there till he rounded a corner, thinking to myself why he covered his face, wondering what secrets he was hiding behind that scarf and those piercing eyes.

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