Single for Eternity
Chapter 72: Who are you?

Chapter 72: Who are you?

The next morning, Tauriel woke from a long and much-needed sleep. Her body felt lighter, her mind clearer, as if the burden of the previous day’s exhaustion had been washed away. She stretched, arching her back, feeling the slight pop of her stiff muscles as she rose from the bed.

She went through her daily routine, methodically tidying her chamber, tucking in the sheets, and ensuring the room remained spotless before making her way to the wash basin. The cold water sent an immediate shock through her system, jolting her fully awake. She welcomed it, as if cleansing herself of the unpleasant thoughts that had been plaguing her mind.

Finally dressed and prepared for the day, Tauriel stepped out of her chamber—only to stop short.

Standing directly outside her door was the well-endowed maid, a hollow yet unnervingly pleasant smile etched onto her face.

Tauriel’s brows furrowed in suspicion. The woman had been acting strangely as of late, even more so than before. There was something about her demeanor, an unnatural smoothness to her movements, an absence of something vital in her expression.

The maid inclined her head ever so slightly, her voice dripping with amusement. "Tauriel, Lord Einar has summoned you. Please make your way to his chamber."

Tauriel blinked. She had not expected that. Einar? Summoning her?

Ever since his return from Duskholm, he had rarely left his quarters. According to Laura, this was his usual behavior—secluding himself away, emerging only when necessary. But this? This felt odd. And the fact that the well-endowed maid was the one delivering the message made it all the more suspicious.

Despite the gnawing unease twisting in her gut, Tauriel eventually nodded.

As they made their way to Einar’s chamber, the maid led with an unsettling grace, her steps perfectly measured, as if rehearsed a thousand times over. Upon reaching the door, she raised a delicate hand and knocked in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

From within, a groggy voice responded. "Come in. It’s open."

Tauriel hesitated, but with a deep breath, she stepped inside.

The chamber was dimly lit, curtains drawn to block out the glaring sun. The scent of parchment and candle wax lingered heavily in the air. Einar lay on his bed, his arms stretched upwards, staring at his hands as though they were something foreign to him. His expression was unreadable, his gaze distant and unnervingly intense.

Tauriel bowed slightly before addressing him. "Young master, you called for me?"

Einar shifted, sitting upright. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

Then, he smirked.

"Tell me, Tauriel," he drawled, his tone laced with mockery, "why are you even here? I haven’t seen you work like the others."

Tauriel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the accusation. "What...?"

"You just stay here like a parasite, doing nothing." He leaned forward, his voice dark and condescending. "Living off of us."

Tauriel’s blood boiled. Her fists clenched at her sides as anger surged through her veins.

"You called me here!" she snapped, her voice rising. "I was working in the mines before! You dragged me into this, don’t forget that, Einar!"

She turned sharply, storming toward the door. In her fury, she kicked it open with enough force that it slammed against the wall.

Einar remained on his bed, watching her retreating figure with a gaze that sent a chill crawling up her spine. There was something wrong. Something deeply, deeply wrong.

As the door swung shut behind her, Einar’s gaze slowly shifted to the well-endowed maid standing beside him. His eyes darkened, his expression turning unreadable.

"Tell me everything you know about her," he commanded, his tone like ice.

A suffocating silence filled the air before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Everything."

...

Tauriel ran.

Tears blurred her vision as she darted down the castle halls, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

The rest of the maid gang caught glimpses of her fleeting figure—Laura, Bess, Olie—all of them reaching out to stop her, to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She just kept running.

’He’s an imposter!’

Her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions and confusion. The way he had looked at her, the way he had spoken to her—it was as if he had no memory of her at all. As if she was a stranger.

Laura had claimed that the Einar who invited her in the castle was an imposter and that this one was the original Einar. By talking with the new Einar her suspicions were cleared.

He indeed was a different person. A much more threatening person at that, just looking in his eyes made her feel....dread.

And worse, she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He was strong much stronger than the previous Einar, she couldn’t manipulate him. She couldn’t seduce him. She felt that from her gut, even though she knew she was beauty.

And if she couldn’t do that...

How was she supposed to exact her revenge?

How could she bring ruin to this town and its people, the ones who had stolen her parents from her?

The afternoon sun burned high in the sky, the wind hot and dry as it battered her skin. She ran blindly, aimlessly, her feet carrying her not to the town, but elsewhere—somewhere secluded, somewhere she knew by heart.

A place where she could grieve.

The thick canopy of trees loomed ahead, intertwined like serpents, casting shadows against the earth. The scent of wildflowers filled the air, their colors vibrant and untouched by the outside world.

And there, beneath the tallest tree, two makeshift gravestones stood side by side.

Her parents’ resting place.

Tauriel collapsed to her knees before them, her shoulders trembling as sobs tore from her throat.

She had fought so hard. Endured so much. Worked in the mines, played the role of a maid, tolerated the lecherous gazes of the townsfolk—all for the chance to one day avenge them.

And now... that chance had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

Her body heaved with her cries, the pain of years of suffering erupting all at once. She dug her fingers into the dirt, whispering apologies through her tears.

Mockingly enough, today was the anniversary of their deaths.

And she had failed them.

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