novelraw Chapter 52
Chapter 52
“It's true,” Thea said, her voice a soft, conspiratorial whisper. “I saw it with my own eyes. A portly woman threw you into the snow and buried you.”
She leaned closer, her expression one of profound sympathy. “I was watching, and I thought, what a pity, for such a lovely child to die like this. So after the woman left, I simply… picked you up.”
Thea was still speaking, but Isolde could no longer hear the words. The world dissolved into a dull roar. Her vision tunneled, the focus draining from her eyes. Abandoned. The word echoed in the sudden, silent void of her mind. The final memory surfaced: her aunt, her strangely kind smile, the white bread… and then, darkness.
Isolde's breath hitched.
“No,” she choked out, her voice raw with disbelief. “That's not true. You're lying!”
With a surge of desperate strength, she shoved with both hands. Caught completely off guard, Thea flew backward, landing with a soft thump near the edge of the enormous bed.
“You—,” Linda began, stepping forward, her face a mask of cold fury.
Thea silenced her with a raised hand.
Her gaze remained fixed on the small, trembling figure on the bed. Isolde had curled into a tight ball, burying her head in the blankets, her body wracked with silent, agonizing sobs. Such strength. A body that frail should not possess such power. It must be the feedback from the contract.
Thea pushed herself up and began to crawl slowly across the soft mattress, stopping when she reached Isolde's side. She gently cupped the girl's face in her small hands and lifted it. It was already slick with tears. The vibrant light in her large, expressive eyes had been extinguished.
“Linda, go and prepare the carriage.”
“But my lady, she—” Linda's eyes were filled with a new wariness as she looked at Isolde.
“It's alright. Go now.” Thea's tone was gentle, but Linda knew it held the unyielding weight of a command.
“I understand, my lady. Please, be careful.”
“Don't worry,” Thea said, her confidence absolute. “She will not harm me.”
Hearing this, Linda said no more. She turned and walked from the room.
Thea used the long, white sleeve of her nightgown to delicately wipe the tears from Isolde's cheeks. Even after she had dried the tear tracks, the girl's eyes remained vacant and unfocused. Thea waved a hand in front of her face. There was no reaction.
A small, knowing smile touched Thea's lips.
After a short while, the door clicked open. It was Linda. In House Valerius, only Linda could enter Thea's chambers so freely. That, and Thea's father. But her father would not be returning from the capital anytime soon. Not with the Rhoyce Empire in such turmoil these last two years. No, he will not be back for some time. The thought pleased her. I absolutely must visit the church in a day or two, to thank the great Fourth Crown for shedding its glorious light upon Thea Valerius.
“My lady,” Linda's voice broke through her thoughts. “The carriage is ready.”
“Mm. Dress me, Linda.”
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“Yes, my lady.”
Linda went to the wardrobe and pulled the doors open, revealing rows of luxurious, exquisitely crafted dresses. The styles were all unique, yet the colors were exclusively black and white. Linda selected one of each and turned.
“Which one today, my lady?”
“The white one.”
White. Her ladyship must be in an excellent mood.
She returned the black dress to the wardrobe and carried the white one to her lady. Once Thea was dressed, she stood on the thick rug in the center of the room and did a slow twirl.
“Do I look beautiful, Linda?”
“You do, my lady,” Linda said, her voice full of heartfelt sincerity. “You look beautiful in everything.”
“Such sweet words.” Thea smiled, then her gaze shifted to the bed. “What about her? Should we change her clothes?”
Linda looked at the figure still sitting motionless on the bed. “Change her, my lady?”
“Yes. Put her in the black one you just held. That color suits her current mood, don't you think?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Linda retrieved the black dress from the wardrobe once more.
After Isolde had been changed, Thea walked over and adjusted the folds of the black gown. Yes, it suits her perfectly. If only her skin were a little fairer, it would be even better. It's likely malnutrition. With time and proper care, that will change.
Thea, wearing white stockings, moved to slip on her flat leather shoes but fumbled with the strap. Seeing her struggle, Linda knelt, gently taking her lady's small foot and resting it on her knee. She picked up the shoe and slid it on with practiced ease, quickly fastening the other.
“Thank you, Linda.”
“It is my duty, my lady. You need not thank me.”
“Mm. Bring her. It's time to go.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Linda walked to the bed, lifted the pliant, doll-like form of Isolde, and carried her calmly down the stairs. After a procession of bowing maids saw them to the door, they entered the carriage. Linda took her seat in the driver's box, grasping the reins and whip.
“Are you settled, my lady?”
“We are. Depart,” came the reply from within.
Linda cracked the whip.
Snap!
The draft horses, stung, began to pull the carriage forward. Halfway down the hill, Linda turned her head slightly.
“My lady, where are we going?”
“Did you read the report?” Thea's voice was clear from the carriage.
“I did.”
“Then we are going to her house.”
“I understand, my lady.”
The journey was silent, a quiet that lasted until the carriage rocked once and came to a stop.
“My lady, we have arrived,” Linda announced from outside.
“I know. Wait here for now.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Thea hopped down from her seat and went to the carriage window, pulling back the heavy curtain. The window was not glass, but a pane of polished alchemical crystal. It allowed those inside to see out with perfect clarity, while rendering the interior completely opaque from the outside.
Before them was a detached house with a small courtyard. This was a central district of the city. A house like this was far beyond the means of a mere City Warden. He could work his entire life and never afford such a property.
How interesting. Where did the money come from? There is only one logical possibility. The money belongs to Isolde.
Thea glanced over at the girl, who sat staring blankly into space.
For more than an hour, they waited. Finally, the door to the small house opened, and a stout woman emerged, holding the hand of a young boy. They stepped out into the snow and began to play, rolling a large snowball.
Watching the mother and son in the snow, a smile touched Thea's lips.
Finally.
She reached over and pulled the catatonic Isolde to the window. Holding her head firmly in place, Thea leaned in close from behind, her lips brushing against the shell of Isolde's ear.
“Look,” she whispered, her voice a thread of poison. “That stout woman… she doesn't even seem to remember you. Why do you think she is so calm?”
“Because she is the one who abandoned you. She doesn't need to search for you.”
“For her, all she has to do is wait for a result.”
“The news of your death… that is the result she is waiting for.”
Tears began to slide down Isolde's cheeks. She clapped a small hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.
Thea's lips curled upwards. She pulled the weeping girl into her arms, sinking with her to the floor of the carriage.
“Go on, cry,” she cooed, stroking her hair. “Let it all out. As your friend, I will be a good listener for you.”
Isolde's small shoulders began to shake with violent, wrenching sobs.
Success.
In this moment, Thea knew with absolute certainty that she could break Isolde completely, mold her into an object that belonged solely to her. But that would be a shallow victory, and it might anger the powerful entity bound to the girl.
No, it was far better to simply play the part of a friend.