Welcome To Hell, Dear Wife-Chapter 27: Food!

Chapter 27: Food!
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound of the door came in a soft way, yet persistent. Like someone trying to wake a baby without actually wanting to succeed.
Mira’s eyes snapped open as her body went right under the sheets.
She had been awake for a couple of hours anyway, just staring at the ceiling and wondering if what happened yesterday had actually happened or if it were all some sort of dream that her brain had managed to conjure.
She was still very much enraged about it all, but much more confused. Because she had so many questions that needed answers, yet Lucas had only been dropping them vaguely.
At this point, she still couldn’t understand anything even though Lucas was sure that she did.
Should she just come out and say she was just inhabiting this body? But then wouldn’t that land her in a psychiatric hospital nonetheless?
The knock sounded again and insistent this time, before she remembered that there was still someone at the door.
"Come in," she called out with a rough and irritated voice.
She didn’t even bother sitting up or fixing her hair.
If someone was going to disturb her at...
she glance
d
at the fancy clock on the nightstand
... eight in the morning, they might as well deal with the irritated voice and rumpled pajamas.
The door creaked open and a young maid stepped inside.
Mira didn’t recognize her, but of course, she didn’t know a lot of people in this house yet. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to, if only she could run as far away from here as she could.
"Your breakfast, miss," the words fell from the maid’s lips, but it felt like she was forcing herself to be polite.
She carried a silver tray that looked quite expensive,
enough to feed an orphanage
, and set it down on the table by the window with more force than was necessary, causing the dishes to rattle.
Mira had wanted to comment on that when her eyes caught sight of the dish itself. She propped herself up and squinted at what looked like some sort of offering to the gods.
What the hell?
The food looked like it had been done by someone who didn’t understand what the concept of food was. There was some kind of grey porridge that looked like wet concrete on it, and then a piece of bread that Mira was sure could be used as a weapon too, beside it.
And then the fruit? The fruit looked like rubber. Like ones made in factories, not organically grown.
Was this some sort of joke? Or is that what they eat here?
"What does everything in this place look like something made for prisoners?" She muttered to herself, and then louder, "What is this?"
The maid heard her, Mira was sure of that. But then she didn’t respond, as she merely stood there for a moment before turning and walking to the door without any word.
"Hey! I asked you a question." Mira called after her. "I said what is—"
But then the door was already slamming shut with enough force.
Mira was dumbfounded as she stared at the closed door, at the tray, and then back to the door.
"What the hell is their problem in this place? And is that really what they eat here or what?"
She dragged herself out of bed as her bare feet hit the cold marble floor. She walked towards the table and stared some more at the food she still couldn’t believe was food.
The porridge had already started to form a skin on top, and it looked like something you’d scrape off the bottom of a pond.
Even the bread was staring at her accusingly, like it knew it was not edible too.
Mira was confused, but she picked up the silver spoon beside it nonetheless. She hadn’t had a lot of luxurious foods in her life, after all, so maybe this was just some rich people food that she had never seen before.
Hopefully
.
"Okay, let’s see what kind of rich people food this is?" She said as she dipped the spoon into the gray mess and brought it to her mouth.
And she even savored it... or tried to, but then all her taste buds were against it. It was like eating wet cardboard that had been soaked.
She could do nothing but spit it out violently as the porridge landed back in the bowl with a loud splat.
"What? What the hell is this!" She yelled as she grabbed the water glass and drained it as if trying so hard to wash away the lingering taste of what she was pretty sure was poop in food form!
She was convinced now. This was not rich people’s food in any way. She had, in fact, been served spoiled food.
Intentionally
!
She slapped the spoon back onto the tray hard enough that it made everything on it jump loudly.
"They intentionally served me rubbish for breakfast!"
Her stomach growled as if trying to remind her that she’d barely eaten anything since yesterday, and that was all thanks to all the humiliation, shock, and confusion she went through.
And as if that wasn’t enough, they dared to serve her spoiled food?
She was enraged.
"No!" She said as she pushed herself from the chair. "I would not accept this! I will not let them get away with treating me this way! I’m still their boss’ wife no matter the circumstance! Letting them treat me like this would make them continue! Hell no!"
She marched to the door while still in her silk pajamas and even barefoot. Her hair was a mess too, and she was very sure that she looked like she’d been dragged all around on the floor, but she could not care less.
She could not let these people get away with doing something like this. She had to put her foot down!
So she stepped into the hallway that stretched so long in front of her and started walking.
She could hear voices coming from downstairs, like the normal sounds of a household starting their day, even though it felt like it was being done by a lot more people than normal.
And it confirmed it for her when she approached the staircase.
She froze at the top of the stairs as her hand gripped the rail. She could see people, a lot of them below, talking and whispering like they were really having some kind of morning gossip session.
And no, she didn’t mean ten people. She meant twenty. Or thirty?
And as soon as one of them saw her, the rest immediately looked in her direction as their conversations died out like someone had pulled the plug of a radio.
Mira was nothing short of shocked as she stood there in her pajamas and messy hair. She suddenly felt like she was some exotic animal on display in the world’s most hostile zoo.
Because they didn’t look at her with just curiosity at all.
They looked at her like she was dirt.