As I approached Viscount William's quarters, I could not help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Living a life of isolation, even within the walls of his own home, seemed unbearably lonely. It reminded me of an experience I had when I was in a similar experience. I still could, and did, go outside, but I could relate a little bit to the isolation. During that experience a couple of years ago, my family did not talk to me a lot, only the necessary things were said. The silent, chilly hallway reminded me of that; it made me feel uncomfortable and tense as if I had done something wrong and the building was giving me the cold shoulder. I did not like the feeling at all and hummed softly to bring some life back into the house.

It reminded me of what Earl Windsor said about his son being suicidal. Sure, the isolation would not do any good for him as it was not good for anyone. Maybe what he needed was some time outside his room or even his house. But first I would have to get him to open the door.

I stopped before Viscount William's door and, unsure of the proper proceedings, balanced the plate of food on my left hand while I knocked on his door like Earl Windsor had done yesterday. The polished wood felt cool under my knuckles. "Hello, my lord," I greeted, using both hands to support the plate once more. The aromas of freshly cooked eggs and crisp bacon wafted up, making me lick my lips and want to eat his breakfast. "This is Claire Becker. May I enter? I have brought you your breakfast."

Viscount William's voice came rough and tired through the rosewood door. "Leave it on the table. I do not want you in here." So, that is why there is an empty table here.

I hesitated, my mouth forming an awkward expression. "My lord, I thought perhaps we could talk while you ate. It might be good for you—"

"Leave it outside," Viscount William interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I do not need your help. I can manage on my own."

"If you think I want to feed you, that is not my intention," I said.

"I do care what your intentions are," he said. "Just leave it outside."

Relenting a little, I placed the tray on the small table just outside his door, the clink of the porcelain plate against the wooden surface echoing slightly. "As you wish, my lord, but I will not be leaving." I leaned against the wall, letting my body slowly slip to the checked flooring.

"What?" came Viscount William's voice as I heard the skid of wheels from inside his chambers, the sound harsh against the otherwise silent corridor.

"I will respect your wishes for privacy, but I think it is important that we become friends. It is not healthy for you to stay in your room all day."

A long silence stretched as my body reached the floor, its cold tiles pressing through the fabric on my skirt with my back against the wall. I wondered what he was thinking. "Miss Becker, respectively, you are my caregiver, not my friend," Viscount William finally said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You may call me Claire if you would like," I chimed, looking at the door as if he was right on the other side of it, imagining his face behind the barrier.

"I will not be doing that, Miss Becker, because it is disrespectful and informal to our current acquaintance and role."

"Current?" I questioned, raising a chestnut brow. "So, we could be something else?"

"Whatever you are suggesting, Miss Becker, that is not what I am saying."

"I just want to be your friend, my lord." I remained silent for a second before I thought of a question. "Is it not lonely being in your room all day?"

Another pause of silence rang through the hallway, and I worried that he was ignoring me until I left. I stood, gazing at his door before I turned, my shoes clicking on the floor with every step I took, the sound loud in the quiet hallway.

"Is everyone not lonely?"

I turned around, facing the door. "No? I would like to believe that most people were not lonely. We, as humans, crave relationships, so everyone is not lonely." I paused. "Why do you ask?"

I heard his wheels spin away from the door, the sound fainter now. "Nevermind, Miss Becker. Please leave so I may have my breakfast in peace."

I looked at the tray, the steam had dissipated by this time. Then I looked back at Vicount William's door. Maybe if I showed vulnerability, he might let me in. "I do not think everyone is lonely, my lord, but everyone is lonely at some point in their lives. I have been lonely in my life. It was a couple of years ago. I got injured and had to stay in bed for a while."

"That is not the same as being in a wheelchair," he snapped.

I took a step closer to his rosewood door. "Um... I guess not, but I did not say that."

Viscount William got quiet, and I feared I had gone too far.

"Well, my lord..." I slowly began. "I hope you enjoy your breakfast." I walked away, and when I was at the end of the hall, I heard a faint creaking of a door, the sound of wheels on tile, the porcelain hitting itself, and a small voice.

"Thank you, Miss Claire."

I smiled as I turned to return to the Windsors, the soft morning light filtering through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor.