Elliot had been holed up in the dungeons for two weeks and six days.
Two weeks and six days Eden had enjoyed a flawless morning routine.
Eden’s morning went the same each day. More elegant than a prima ballerina practicing her rudiments. More rigid than a church ritual.
She’d been spoiling herself with a steam shower every morning, followed by thirty minutes of stretching and deep breathing exercises. Each breath garnered the inner peace she would horde away for later use when the tranquility was interrupted. Not if but when. Whenever he surfaced. And he would. Eventually. He always did.
Of late, Eden had time to enjoy exactly two cups of warm lemon water drank over forty-five minutes while she relished in a novel. Once upon a time, she would have devoured anything that hit the shelves. Hungry for whatever she could get her hands on. But she had lived long enough and read enough terrible fiction to patiently wait out the moment and see what lasted and what was forgotten. These days, she only read the classics.
She’d let her hair grow long that year and had taken to curling it into loose waves which were half pinned back with simple barrettes. The hair would stay away from her face while she worked without denying her a feminine hairstyle. For two weeks and six days Eden had expertly applied a sharp winged eyeliner with a steady, unwavering hand. No mistakes, no do-overs. Perfect on the first try. Almost unheard-of.
Late summer was upon Laine which really only meant that the weather went from occasional snowy cold to more frequently snowy cold. Eden marked the passage of the seasons two fold: in her attire and in the furnishings of the Wilder estate.
Outfits started from the bottom up. Feeling festive, she could justify kicking off the start of a new season by wearing the brand new lace up ankle boots with the moderate heel. There wasn’t quite a chill in the house so sweaters would still be early. She settled for tight black jeans and a sheer chiffon button up with elegant little polka dots and a collar that nearly kissed her chin. It was long sleeved but thin and breathable. There was no better summer-to-fall transitional outfit she could think of.
Normally Eden multi tasked during breakfast. Eating, planning, and giving instructions. That morning, nearly giddy with excitement to start planning the transition of the estate, she took her breakfast on the go. She had the chef whip up a simple breakfast sandwich. She meandered through the castle nibbling at breakfast sausage on toast in one hand and sipping at a coffee in the other hand while envisioning the changes to come. During the summer, she splurged on colors in the attempt to make the castle seem warm and, well, summer-like. Easier said than done.
Fall was easier. The furnishings would take a step more to the dressier side in preparation for the blow-out winter wonderland to come later. She had seen a number of charming decorative gourds in the stores and had many plans for these items. Whether such things tickled Elliot’s fancy or not, Eden didn’t know, but he had never stopped her from these endeavors in all the time she had worked for him. She hoped he’d notice the gourds.
When she was finished daydreaming, she gave the instructions for the day to the staff in her sharp, un-accommodating manner. Though she had been in a chipper mood, the staff under her would never know by the way she gave her orders. Instructions like knife lacerations. Linen maids jumping when she informed them the pillowcases on Lord Wilder’s bed were wrinkled when she checked them the day before. Unacceptable. Lazy. Simply won’t do. It didn’t matter that Elliot hadn’t seen it and he mightn’t have even noticed anyway. Eden was a stickler. When it came to Elliot she left nothing to chance.
The rest of the late morning Eden spent blissfully measuring rooms.
How many times over the years had she measured the rooms of the castle? She had a booklet with all of the dimensions, in addition to the blueprints for the structure. The distance between the walls never changed but Eden remeasured every year. Just so she could be sure the area rugs, the wall hangings, new furniture, would all fit. She wouldn’t waste the Duke’s money ordering rugs that would overwhelm a room. She would crawl over the floor measuring and then sit and sketch her ideas for the room and repeat the process until the whole estate was sketched in her book. She likely enjoyed the process of it more than she needed to re-measure. Needless to say she already had a metric fuckton of furnishings and decorations flagged for purchase and ready to order with one simple call. Once she confirmed they fit.
The staff knew never to disturb Eden when she was measuring. It was very serious business.
Two weeks and six days Eden had enjoyed a flawless morning routine.
Eden’s morning went the same each day. More elegant than a prima ballerina practicing her rudiments. More rigid than a church ritual.
She’d been spoiling herself with a steam shower every morning, followed by thirty minutes of stretching and deep breathing exercises. Each breath garnered the inner peace she would horde away for later use when the tranquility was interrupted. Not if but when. Whenever he surfaced. And he would. Eventually. He always did.
Of late, Eden had time to enjoy exactly two cups of warm lemon water drank over forty-five minutes while she relished in a novel. Once upon a time, she would have devoured anything that hit the shelves. Hungry for whatever she could get her hands on. But she had lived long enough and read enough terrible fiction to patiently wait out the moment and see what lasted and what was forgotten. These days, she only read the classics.
She’d let her hair grow long that year and had taken to curling it into loose waves which were half pinned back with simple barrettes. The hair would stay away from her face while she worked without denying her a feminine hairstyle. For two weeks and six days Eden had expertly applied a sharp winged eyeliner with a steady, unwavering hand. No mistakes, no do-overs. Perfect on the first try. Almost unheard-of.
Late summer was upon Laine which really only meant that the weather went from occasional snowy cold to more frequently snowy cold. Eden marked the passage of the seasons two fold: in her attire and in the furnishings of the Wilder estate.
Outfits started from the bottom up. Feeling festive, she could justify kicking off the start of a new season by wearing the brand new lace up ankle boots with the moderate heel. There wasn’t quite a chill in the house so sweaters would still be early. She settled for tight black jeans and a sheer chiffon button up with elegant little polka dots and a collar that nearly kissed her chin. It was long sleeved but thin and breathable. There was no better summer-to-fall transitional outfit she could think of.
Normally Eden multi tasked during breakfast. Eating, planning, and giving instructions. That morning, nearly giddy with excitement to start planning the transition of the estate, she took her breakfast on the go. She had the chef whip up a simple breakfast sandwich. She meandered through the castle nibbling at breakfast sausage on toast in one hand and sipping at a coffee in the other hand while envisioning the changes to come. During the summer, she splurged on colors in the attempt to make the castle seem warm and, well, summer-like. Easier said than done.
Fall was easier. The furnishings would take a step more to the dressier side in preparation for the blow-out winter wonderland to come later. She had seen a number of charming decorative gourds in the stores and had many plans for these items. Whether such things tickled Elliot’s fancy or not, Eden didn’t know, but he had never stopped her from these endeavors in all the time she had worked for him. She hoped he’d notice the gourds.
When she was finished daydreaming, she gave the instructions for the day to the staff in her sharp, un-accommodating manner. Though she had been in a chipper mood, the staff under her would never know by the way she gave her orders. Instructions like knife lacerations. Linen maids jumping when she informed them the pillowcases on Lord Wilder’s bed were wrinkled when she checked them the day before. Unacceptable. Lazy. Simply won’t do. It didn’t matter that Elliot hadn’t seen it and he mightn’t have even noticed anyway. Eden was a stickler. When it came to Elliot she left nothing to chance.
The rest of the late morning Eden spent blissfully measuring rooms.
How many times over the years had she measured the rooms of the castle? She had a booklet with all of the dimensions, in addition to the blueprints for the structure. The distance between the walls never changed but Eden remeasured every year. Just so she could be sure the area rugs, the wall hangings, new furniture, would all fit. She wouldn’t waste the Duke’s money ordering rugs that would overwhelm a room. She would crawl over the floor measuring and then sit and sketch her ideas for the room and repeat the process until the whole estate was sketched in her book. She likely enjoyed the process of it more than she needed to re-measure. Needless to say she already had a metric fuckton of furnishings and decorations flagged for purchase and ready to order with one simple call. Once she confirmed they fit.
The staff knew never to disturb Eden when she was measuring. It was very serious business.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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