BELLRAM

Lijeux led Meia to the dressing table. She had already spotted her suitcases next to the dresser. She explained to Lijeux which one contained her dress and Lijeux immediately and eagerly set about getting it. With a strong swing of her arm, she lifted the heavy suitcase to hoist it onto the high dresser. However, the momentum was not quite enough to reach the top and when it was completely used up, the suitcase immediately made its way back down. She tried to catch the weight with her other hand, but hit one of the latches, causing the suitcase to open, causing the dress and shoes to fall out, and one of the corners to hit her foot, causing her to drop the suitcase altogether. In the fall, it ripped off her waist bag, which meant that now not only the contents of the suitcase, but also the entire contents of her bag were scattering across the floor. At the same time, the pain from her foot elicited a sound from her that reminded Meia of the rutting cry of a roebuck. It was a scene play of tragedy. Meia was at a loss for words.

She could have just opened the suitcase on the floor.

For the next half minute she once again collected her stuff together. This was the already second time that she had lost the things from her bag.

When she had everything together again, she also picked up the shoes and the dress.

Ruby red fabric rose into the air and made a sound like a sheet on a clothesline in a storm. The breeze swept a strand of hair out of Meia's face.

The dress in her hands was off-the-shoulder with blunt V-necks on both sides. There was an elegant loop around the waist to flatter the hips. Matching shoes with medium heels and a hair band with long ends had also been in the suitcase.

Meia had definitely wanted to take this dress with her, even if it was not the best and was already a little worn, because it was something special for her. In her memory, it was the dress her mother always wore. Meia did not know for sure if it was the same. Her father did not talk about it and it had been too long ago. But when she closed her eyes and thought of her mother, she saw a woman in front of her in this dress and with this ribbon in her hair. So it had to be true.

Lijeux did not seem to be taken in by the dress to the same extent. Almost indifferently, she threw it over the chair of the dressing table without even looking at it closely. As she did so, Meia noticed that her posture had somehow slumped in the meantime. She had become a symbol of listlessness. Now that the actual work was beginning, she seemed to have lost all drive. A minute ago, on the other hand, she had seemed as if she were about to fly away with lightness. The act of lifting the suitcase onto the dresser and the subsequent failure had apparently drained all her energy and motivation.

In complete listlessness, she bent down to take off Meia's shoes. She did not offer her to sit down, instead she gave her a pat on the bottom of each calf to make her lift the corresponding leg. It was like trying to get at the hooves of a horse.

Then she came back up to take care of the dress.

Meia prepared herself mentally. It would be unpleasant, but she had no choice. She had to get through it.

A strangers eyes were on her.

A strangers hand laid against her back.

The zip went down.

The dress began to slip.

Meia looked at her hands. Nervously, she gripped her index finger. What should she do? Should she talk to her to distract her?

Through furtive glances in the mirror by the window, she watched what was happening. Unfortunately though, the mirror was in a bad position. A strangers face was not to be seen.

The hands gripped them again. Fresh air rushed unevenly into her lungs as she took a shuddering breath.

The dress fell at her feet.

A more beautiful face moved into the mirror.

More beautiful eyes looked up at her.

The gaze went over her hipsters. - A hipster was tight-fitting underwear with a low waistband and a small leg. It was the kind of underwear Meia always wore. - The piece was not good. Less fabric would have been better in combination with the skin-tight red dress. It did not look good either. It was just an inexpensive piece.

The gaze went over her bra. - It was a strapless model. It only held through its exaggerated tightness, but still always felt like it was about to slip off. It was a special case that Meia wore something like this. Normally she preferred to choose something more comfortable. - The bra was no good either. With its shape, it only unnecessarily emphasised an area where she did not have much to offer. It would have been better if she had put on another one, but it would not work with the off-the-shoulder red dress. She also only had this one without straps.

The underwear was white so the color would not show through on the white dress. From the get-up, though, they were rather see-through. There was so little fabric in many places that you could see her skin underneath. There was barely anything hidden. The underwear was only an adornment of her body. It had no other use.

The gaze left her.

Meia felt naked and judged.

She had not chosen these clothes. The housemaid had bought them because she should wear something suitable just in case.

Ashamed, Meia stepped out of the dress to the dressing table. The flat socks were slippery on the bare parquet floor.

Resting one hand closed on the tabletop, she waited. In the meantime, she looked through the make-up mirror past the half-naked body at the more beautiful girl in the background.

Without comment, she picked up the dress and shoes and went to fetch the other dress.

Meia's gaze continued to wander to the partition.

On the individual pieces were brand drawings of beautiful women in nature. They were all dressing. The dresses were ornate and intricate on all levels. Meia did not believe that one could really wear them. If one did try, one could not move in them because they were too long. Even the loose sleeves on her summer dresses were a bit distracting, but the some of the women in the pictures dragged more behind them than they had on their bodies.

The portrayals were quite virtuous. The women were all almost dressed up and were only tying their hair or putting on make-up. The maximum of exposed skin, was a drooping shoulder strap and a bare back. At the moment, there was far more to see in the mirror than that, although not in the same quality.

Lijeux took care of the ribbon first and only then did she come behind her with the dress. She simply laid it on the ground and again wanted Meia to lift her legs to climb in. If Meia were really a horse, she would have kicked her by now, as often as she approached her from behind. But Meia said nothing. In silence she let her dress her, watching her through the mirror again. With Rujell as her companion, she would not have been in this room for a long time. Her biggest concern at the moment, however, was no longer time. It was rare for Meia to be touched by anyone, but it was unique for anyone to be able to see her like this. The only exception in both of these cases was the housemaid. However, the housemaid was more or less family. Never would she do anything to offend Meia. Lijeux's strange nature did not help to overcome the shame. It was quite the opposite. Meia did not think she would end up coming to this conclusion, but she would rather be here with Rujell. Rujell seemed demonic on the outside but would always remain kind, while Lijeux seemed kind but was a real demon on the inside. Meia was afraid she would say something. After all, she was not as beautiful as she was.

Fundamentally, all servants in the world were paid to be nice. But Lijeux had so far shown that she did not care about consequences. If she found something to criticise, she would certainly do it. Meia was far below her. That was another reason why she found it hard to be rude to them. It felt like she did not know her place when all she had to do was look in the mirror. The breasts? The belly? The legs? Her face? There was a lot to complain about. The embarrassing underwear was just one of those things. Especially towards someone like her, it was embarrassing. Wrapping a nice ribbon around something ugly did not make it prettier, it just made it more pitiful. Was that why she was so quiet? Did she feel sorry for her? Maybe it was better this way. If she did say something, she probably would not even think anything of it when she destroys even her last bit of self-confidence. That was why she was afraid of her. That was why she was afraid of each of the guests down in the courtyard. They were all exhausting. Constantly you had to pay attention to every little thing. You were never allowed to make even one wrong move. The people did not allow any mistakes. They allowed only flawless beauty. Only perfection was allowed in their countenances.

Mr Monet was no different. Meia did not know what it was, but he surely wanted something from them, and that was the only reason he was nice to her.

It was better not to trust anyone. These people were all fake. They were all acting out of self-interest. Every kindness expected something in return.

But if that was the best that was available to her, she would accept it.

It was better for one person to lie to her that he loved her than for everyone to be honest. That way, she might be able to try to convince herself that it was not a lie, and at some point she would perhaps have suppressed this lie as well. In blind love she could then at least live together with someone. Was that not the goal?

Meia was not sad. She knew all this from the beginning. She was happy. There was someone who took the trouble to pretend for her. Was that not valuable?

If she were more beautiful, maybe someone would be in love with her because she was beautiful. If she were funnier, maybe someone would be in love with her because of that. After all, it made no difference what the other person wanted to take possession of. It was always something. Meia did not know what she had to offer, but there was something that was enough for someone. Was that not all that mattered? It probably was. Meia would ignore people's motives in future and play the loving wife. Maybe then she would no longer need to lie to herself about being happy. Maybe then she could be truly happy. That was her hope.

The zip arrived at the top.

Meia looked up.

A stranger's fingers stroked her gently on the shoulder.

A stranger's eyes gazed into her face.

"Is everything okay?" asked Lijeux unnaturally gently.

It was the one question Meia did not want to hear.

"Yes."

The answer almost stuck in her throat.

Meia did not want her pity.

It did not help.

"Are you crying?"

Only now did Meia feel the tear on her cheek.

She wiped it away with her sleeve.

"I just have something in my eye."

"All right then." Lijeux bent down again to put her shoes on. "I was beginning to think I'd made you cry, then I'd get in trouble again later."

Luckily she was so careless. The last question had been effective. It was hard not to let herself fall into it. But Meia knew it would have done no good. Pity only ever flowed downwards. Once you saw through that, it no longer provided any comfort. In fact, it changed nothing. Someone who would really understand her situation could not have it. Maybe someone like that would have compassion. Something that did not help either, but at least gave comfort. Pity only explained to everyone where one stood - which was lower. If you accepted it, it drowned you, so you would have to continue to stay there. Pity was an obstacle, so Meia did not want it.

.../ End Part