He's Under My Spell

The rhythmic crow of a rooster and the distant clanging of a bell shattered the silence, heralding the dawn. Priscilla stirred, sleep clinging to her eyelids like cobwebs. Two hours of restless sleep weren't nearly enough, but duty called.

She dragged herself out of bed and went through the motions – a quick bath, a fresh maid uniform. Descending to the main hall, she joined the other maids in their morning routine of preparing breakfast and cleaning the mansion.

Just as everything was in order and the staff lined up for their morning greeting, the governor appeared at the top of the grand staircase.

"The young master," he announced, "will be having breakfast in his room today."

Seeing Priscilla, Betty subtly gestured that she'd handle breakfast duty. Priscilla, weary from the previous night's events, didn't protest. She ascended the stairs, the heavy breakfast tray balanced precariously in her hands. Reaching the young master's door, she gave a light knock. A voice, cool and composed, drifted from within. "Enter. The door is not locked."

Entering the room, Priscilla found Elvis seated on the bed, struggling with the buttons of his polo shirt. He didn't seem to notice her presence, his brow furrowed in concentration.

An unexpected urge to help him surge through her. Ignoring the prickle of unease that accompanied the impulse, Priscilla stepped forward. Elvis, surprisingly, didn't flinch as she reached out to assist him. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt through Priscilla – a spark of heat and a tingling sensation that raced down her arm.

Instantly, she recoiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Forgive me, Sir " she stammered, her voice flustered. "I shouldn't have come near without your permission."

Elvis remained silent, his expression unreadable. He rose from the bed and moved towards the table where Priscilla had placed the breakfast tray. Her gaze followed him, searching his movements for any hint of recognition. He bore an uncanny resemblance to the enigmatic Elvis from the forest – the way he held himself, the confident stride. Lost in thought, Priscilla didn't register Elvis calling her name. He repeated it, a touch sharper this time, snapping her back to attention.

Flustered, Priscilla hurried to his side. "Forgive me, Master Elvis. What can I do for you?"

His voice was laced with a chilling coldness. "Why are you standing there like a statue? Attend your duties."

Priscilla bristled at his command. This entitled behavior, especially considering his blindness, was infuriating. However, she forced a smile, schooling her features into an image of subservience. "Of course, Sir" she said, scooping a spoonful of food.

A silent question bubbled in Priscilla's mind why did this man, seemingly an adult, require feeding? It felt archaic, a strange detail that added to the enigma that was Elvis. He devoured his breakfast with a surprising ferocity, leaving the plate spotless.

As Priscilla cleared the table, a tense silence hung in the air. Just as she was about to leave, Elvis spoke. His voice, devoid of warmth, sent shivers down her spine. "Laura," The young man said, his voice a low rumble. "Have we met before?"

Priscilla's feet froze. Her heart thumped in her chest. The room got quiet, way too quiet. She couldn't stay silent forever. "No, sir," she blurted, "I don't think we've met before. Maybe I just remind you of someone."

Elvis didn't say anything, his face unreadable. Priscilla's smile wobbled. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.

"Well, I better get back to work Sir," she said quickly. "If you need anything Sir, I'm just one call away"

Heart hammering in her chest, Priscilla scurried out of the room and shut the door with a soft click. Leaning against the wall, she took a moment to catch her breath. Had he recognized her? The encounter rattled her nerves.

"That was close," she muttered to herself. "I need to be more careful around Elvis." Taking a deep breath, Priscilla steeled herself. Revenge wouldn't be achieved through carelessness. She had a plan, and she wouldn't let anything distract her.