My Four Miraculous Treasures

Apparently so. There was no escape.

Willow pulled two chairs together to form an improvised cot. The handsome mahogany wood was unobstructed by any sort of cushioning or upholstery. The bare wood was cold and hard... but it was still better than sleeping on the floor.

It was spring now, but the nights were chilly all the same.

Willow laid herself down upon the cold, hard wood, with no blanket to cover herself with.

Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as the chill seeped into her, icy tendrils reaching all the way down to her bones. Unable to fall asleep, she got up and walked around, rubbing her arms to restore some warmth in them.

This sort of worked, at first... but then she just kept getting colder, and she was also starving and weary. Dizzy with hunger, she struggled even to draw breath.

She sat down on the chair, leaned back, and remained perfectly still, in order to conserve energy.

In this way, she managed to last through the night, until the faint rays of dawn's light arrived.noveldrama

By that point, Willow was near death from cold. Ravaged by hunger, she no longer had the strength to even rise from the chair.

She opened her eyes, and was dazzled by morning sunlight. She blinked several times, trying to get her eyes to adjust. It took several tries.

Morning had come... she hadn't slept a wink, the whole night.

She was groggy. Even her thoughts seemed sluggish. Because she was so cold and hungry, she hadn't been able to sleep at all...

Too late for that, now. Willow stood up, opened the door, and left the private gallery. She was greeted by a chilly draft. She hugged herself and shivered.

Last night, it had been too dark to see anything. Now that it was daylight, she took a look around:

The backyard was completely enclosed by high walls, too smooth to scale without a ladder. The walls were topped with a row of spikes, their razor-sharp points glinting menacingly in the sunlight, eager to foil any attempt at intrusion... or escape.

Getting over those walls would probably be impossible for her.

Beneath the walls was a sprawling garden. It was well-tended and orderly with red and purple tulips in full bloom, their fragrance spreading upon the morning mist, thick and sweet.

It was beautiful, that much could not be denied. No wonder the housekeeper Leon had invited her back here to have a look.

However, given her current circumstances, she was in no mood whatsoever to appreciate any sort of beauty.

She tried the back door again. It was still locked shut.

She knocked on it, instead. No one answered, but she kept on knocking, and eventually she caused enough commotion that Leon was forced to open the door.

"Ms. Nason," he said in polite greeting, "You can't come in."

Willow frowned. "Where's Jasper?"

"He's still sleeping."

"He's not awake yet? I wish to speak with him."

"He's usually not awake yet, at this hour."

Willow tried to walk around him and get into the house, because she needed to discuss the matter of her incarceration with Jasper.

Leon obstructed her entry, looking troubled. "Ms. Nason, Master Jasper isn't a morning person. Rousing him from bed forcefully is not a good idea at all."

Willow was unable to come inside from the backyard, and Jasper wasn't up yet. Naturally, she wasn't stupid enough to provoke the man any further, on that count. She only wanted to understand what exactly he was trying to achieve with all this.

Deprived of sleep the whole night, and dying from starvation and thirst, the color had drained out of her once-pretty face, and she was starting to find this whole ordeal not

merely tiresome, but perhaps worrisome as well.

Striking an imperious manner, she posed a question to Leon: "Has your Master

Jasper informed you of when I'll be allowed to leave?"