Masae led the young woman through the large residence’s underground, a restored and functional ancient vault. There were chambers with closed doors and cellars. The intriguing construction was a medieval castle, Mila assessed. As they passed by doors, she wondered what each chamber held inside. Were they also recovery rooms? Why had she been kept underground? If this was her home, why not be treated in her own room? Mila kept her thoughts to herself in the old language she began to use as a shield.
They came to a halt at the last turn where there were rocky stairs leading up, but Masae chose the modern elevator. The door quickly opened and Masae led the way. After a brief ascent, it opened its doors to the castle’s main floor.
As if waking up from yet another dream, Mila was enveloped by the warm and sophisticated lights while the 18th century alabasters expelled top notes of cypress and bergamot, oak, jasmine, and musk. She tried to remember the place called home according to the woman giving the tour.
“For over 900 years this beautiful castle has been home to the earls of Arundel. And it’s been in our family, the Howards, dukes of Norfolk since 1580. You see? We come from illustrious pedigree and I intend to keep it that way.” Masae was retelling the castle’s history, but her voice became background noise as Mila vaguely listened.
There weren’t memories among those wood-paneled walls and expensive décor that awakened any spark in Mila’s mind, although everything looked real and original. Nothing in the history of political turmoil in the medieval and Tudor times moved her in anyway. The Catholic faith, which had apparently put her ancestors in jeopardy, didn’t stir any fire in her soul. Although, apparently, there were saints in the family as well as a poet, a collector and a lucky duke pardoned before his execution when Henry VIII died. What a remote history, Mila observed in her heart.
Masae’s historical chirping brought Mila back from her musings when she began reminding her of every nook and cranny in the castle as if she had spent her childhood there. Masae encouraged her to evoke events lived and etched in those places, knowing full well that the young woman had none.
Mila nodded pensively in an honest attempt to remember. Just on the way to her bedroom, as they passed the expensive art gallery lining the upper hallway, she thought she had a memory flash. But there were frescoes of ancient forest what she remembered.
“And this is your bedroom, sweetheart.” Masae said as they entered the room. She opened her arms showing the luxurious chamber, a place designed for Mila in anticipation of a morphogenesis well executed.
Mila took cautious steps into the room, sharpening her senses to pick up on a scent, an image, a noise that would remind her of who she was in that room. A young woman’s bedroom can be a hiding place of many secrets, but it wasn’t so for Mila. She sat on the bed and glanced at Masae, swallowing her confusion.
“I don’t remember this place, but it’s so beautiful,” Mila said, inspecting her nightstand on her side. She ran her fingers over it, finding it so empty even though there was a nice reading lamp. A memory flashed and startled her. Books piling up on a table and a few scattered on the floor next to her bed. Where were her books now? They would certainly give her an indication of who she was. But there were none. She hid her disappointment and the memory.
“The house is an English architectural wonder,” Masae said, admiring her own impeccable taste.
Mila agreed. She walked to the large window to look outside. There were neatly planned gardens adorning the landscape around the castle’s grounds which expanded to the woods. The castle was isolated from civilization. She peered around in searched for clues that would prove Masae right or wrong.
“So, where are we?”
“West Sussex, dear.”
“The loveliest landscape I’ve ever seen, I believe,” Mila acknowledged, turning away from the window and looking back at the grandiose chamber so foreign to her. Mila sat on the edge of her bed, looking at Masae expectant.
“And wait, you walk into your closet. You’ll find nothing but the finest for my reborn daughter. And more is to come!” Masae sang from the door. “But little by little, Mila, patience cracks the rock. Now, take a bath and dress up. You have a celebration to attend. Tonight’s dinner will mark our beginning.” Masae turned to look at Mila gleefully one more time. “Get ready, we have a world to conquer, Mila.”
And Mila smiled, waiting for the door to close.