My biggest fear, is letting someone in....I hide my books from everyone every single last thought, tucked away for my eyes only. If I let them see what is there, it is opening my heart and mind to them. Through my music I can show them something, a quick moment into my everything. That is brief,un-lasting, everyone enjoys music. They know not what they see, and that is fine with me. Let me make you smile, but don't worry about me I am someone unworthy of worry. I am simply the companion to my Lord, though he does take good care of me...

That was the last thing she ever wrote in her book, the last page in it. The young woman sighed softly, moving her arm over her eyes as she lay in her bed. Four years snice the day he left, four to the day. Every day, she had hopes that he would return to her. The one that she was so loyal too and the one who had her heart. A soft sigh escaped her, chest rising and falling with the action. He wasn't coming home today either, he wasn't coming home again. Rising from her rest with a subtle groan, sliding out of bed. Moving towards the vanity within the confides of the room. A brush through those long raven locks. A woman now, in the early twenties of life, looking in the mirror blue-grey hues met her. How much longer would one subject themselves to sadness? Watching herself in the mirror, the bastard children he left behind with her, memories were the true name of them. No one to take claim to the storm within her mind. Only her, her to console herself of every bit of hurt. It coursed through her like a lighting strike. The pit of darkness, why did the wait continue, would not most stop trying by now?

The memories began to flood her mind, oh yes the day they first met. That is what wanted to curse her this day. Taken from a early age, and put into a school of sorts, intense if you wanted to be worth something. Those who did not excel, still made a shudder run through one's very core. Simple whore houses really, the worst of the worst. The ones only the scum of the Earth found themselves patronizing. With those whispers, the young Lithia found herself pushing it every day. Practicing day in and day out to become the top of the class. Cooking, cleaning, music, sowing the like. When she graduated from the school, she had been thrust into the exchange where they kept the girls in cages. The air was filled with despair and fear. Cries and screams, the whispers, all of it, tearing at her soul day by day. Yes, she was for a high price, but that didn't mean you were going to a safe place. So many legends and otherwise were told through the bars.

One morning she awoke from another painful slumber, and there he was watching her. His eyes un-nerved her. Sharp, bright green like a jewel, his shoulder length hair tied back in a pony tail. He stood at a good six foot even, to her small, yet lithe frame. He was dressed in a fine dark blue silk shirt, top three buttons popped to reveal the tops of his pecs , he was shapely, she would give him that. His curved face, he was of a higher class. Those blue-grey orbs of hers would trace down to this pants and shoes. Jeans, and dress shoes, well here she had been expecting the whole nine yards of class. Tracing back to his face, he had smirked and then he was gone. Why had he done this? He had not spoke a single word and then just like that, he had been gone. Why had he seemed so damn familiar to her? There was just something about him, something just familiar.

On the next morning, there he was again, in a tank top and another pair of jeans. Watching her, yet again. Would he speak? "Please let him speak", she had pled to whatever deity was out there. Instead, her holding cell was unlocked. One slender and long finger beckoning her out from where she was. Unsurely the young woman found herself crawling out from the confides, only for him to take her hand and lead her away from the selling room. They would come above the ground, into the manor and towards an office. The male moved behind the desk, and took a seat. It was there that she read the plate of his name, Vladimir Alexander Malvolio. Holy fuck to high heaven, was this real, or was she screwed?

"Uhm..Sir Malvolio....A-Am I in trouble?" Her voice soft, meek, the shake clear in the way that she addressed him. He smirked, of all things he only smirked, this bothered her. Waiting for him to speak, her heart pounding with her fear. "No, not this time..." a chuckle had escaped him, it was dark, brooding. Concerning, in all honesty, she was not going to tell a lie on that part. "Then...why am I here?". Moments passed, she felt like he was taking the sweet time to watch her sweat. "Well Lithia, you caught my eye so I am pulling you off the floor for myself...from this day forward you shall serve me". The female would bit her bottom lip with a soft whimper. She had been chosen to serve someone known to be harsh, was it rumor or truth...? Well...she was going to find out for herself this day going forward.

Then, she was back at the mirror, several years later. Tears brimming her orbs as she continued to brush her hair. Rising up when satisfied, the night gown she wore would slide down her curved athletic frame. Her form would cross to the closet after picking up the sleep ware, as she found a simple blue sundress to slide upon herself. Returning to the vanity, she sat there. Looking upon her beauty goods, was there a point to this? He was a ghost to her, the memory proved it. Yet, that was the day she became Lithia of the Malvolio Household. The same date that was this day.....