Chapter 7
***
🥀 It was late at night. It had been a long time since the feast, but I still felt bloated. The food she'd shoved down her throat felt like it was piled on top of each other. Aubrey dropped the scissors she'd snuck from the kitchen on her desk and made her way to the window. She'd only been in the house a few days, but the chair in front of the window had become her favorite spot. It overlooked the manor's gardens, and sometimes she could see Barbara or Emily enjoying tea time.
As her green eyes slowly scanned the darkened garden, they suddenly landed on her hands. Clean hands, not the ones that were always stained. They still bore the scars of her escape, but they would soon fade. She had indeed run away.
From that hellish island.
It dawned on her once more, and at the same time, a series of intense moments from that day flashed through her mind.
She could still see Phoebe's face as she screamed at her to run. The first friend she had ever had, the closest she had ever been. The thought of Phoebe made her heart feel as heavy as a weight. Aubrey swallowed dryly, swallowing back her tears.
She had to believe Phoebe was okay. She knew it was ridiculous, this unrealistic wish, but she had to believe it to keep herself alive. Aubrey forced her eyes open and looked up at the night sky.
A dark cloud hung like a pit of dust from a full moon. The boy she'd met under the night sky. She remembered the boy, his hair as black as the sky, blowing in the wind. She wondered how he was doing.
The boy who looked so unhappy, she wondered if he was alright. Where did he go?
"......I'm worried about someone."
Aubrey's hands clenched into fists. She stood up and grabbed the scissors she'd brought earlier. Standing in front of the mirror, Aubrey took a few breaths.
Her long, uncombed hair had clumped and tangled together in an uncontrollable mess. It was as if the cloud of dust from earlier had stuck to her head.
Several maids had come and gone to comb this thing that could hardly be called human hair, and several combs had broken.
“Ha......."
Aubrey let out a deep breath, picked up the scissors, and snipped away at the uncombed part of her hair. The sound of scissors echoed in the silent room.
It was a creepy sound. It sounded foreign, like an animal skin being cut. After a few more strokes, Aubrey lowered her trembling hands.
Her hair, which had been long enough to reach below her breasts, was now short that barely reached her shoulders. On the floor, the tangled strands lay in a reddish bush.
In the mirror, she saw a girl who looked almost human. Not a disheveled, disoriented, fleeing slave, but a disheveled but somehow normal girl.
“I want her to be a child worthy of this house. I want her to be worthy of being a Ravant.”
Aubrey remembered the words. That was all that mattered now. To be a child worthy of this great mansion, as Jeffrik had said.
To live a normal life without being recognized as a slave. Aubrey pressed her lips together and raked a stray strand of hair out of her face.
* *
The sun was just rising in the afternoon when she heard the unexpected call. Aubrey had just returned to her room from lunch and was dragging her chair back to the window when Trin came to her.
"Ah, Miss. Miss Emily wants to see you."
"Me?"
"She said she'd like to have tea with you......."
Before Trin could finish her sentence, Emily appeared.
"Step aside."
Trin's head snapped up at her words, and she hastily stepped aside. Emily strode into the room, dressed in her early morning finery, the hem of her layered dress fluttered with each step.
"How's it going? Is everything okay?"
Emily asked, looking around the room.
"Yeah, it's great."
"Take it easy, my mother told you to."
With that, she glanced at Aubrey's bed, then ran her index finger across it. As if to check for dirt.
"I was wondering something about you. I was thinking maybe a cup of tea, what do you think?"
"......."
"I know you're always spying on me in here."
Aubrey almost bit her tongue as soon as Emily said that. She thought she'd never find out.
"I didn’t mean anything bad, I just....... I just wanted to see the garden......."
"I know, so let's have a cup of tea. What do you say?"
Aubrey hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and Emily turned around with a wry smile.
* * *
Moments later, a small tea party had begun in the garden. Aubrey couldn't believe she was sitting in the same spot she'd looked at every day.
The fragrant smell of flowers in bloom all around, the smell of grass mixed with it, the sound of birds chirping in the distance. It felt like a dream.
The silver tray was filled with sandwiches, scones, and other sweets. While Aubrey's eyes darted everywhere, trying to remember everything in sight, Emily sipped her tea. She was watching Aubrey.
Her mother's niece, who had come out of nowhere. Emily still couldn't believe it. From the sounds of it, she was dirty and ragged when she was found.
Emily wondered about that. Her origins, which even her mother had never told her. Clink. Aubrey's head snapped up at the sound of the teacup being set down.
Aubrey's face was ugly, her cheeks and chin streaked with red, and her eyes green as a forest. Instantly, she felt disgusted. Emily barely managed to straighten her scowl.
"Where have you been and what have you been doing?"
"......."
No wonder she couldn't answer. She must have lived a life of begging in the dirty streets.
"Here, you can answer while you eat."
Emily graciously placed the cucumber sandwich from the bottom of the tray on her plate.
"I'm......."
Aubrey stammered.
"I'm from the streets. I lived on the streets."
Her eyes narrowed as she answered. Her lashes fluttered as she lowered them slightly.
"Poor. Poor thing."
Emily said, covering the corner of her mouth with her hand.
"How do you survive on the streets, stealing food from other people's houses? I'm sure you didn’t pick up their discarded food."
"......."
"Oh, my God. Did you really do that?"
Aubrey's hands tensed under the table. She knew Emily didn't like her, that much she knew. She knew this was going to happen a million times. But.......
"I begged for it, I didn't steal it or pick it up."
Aubrey smiled nervously. Her fisted hands shook under the table. Aubrey had never touched anything that didn't belong to her, that much was true.
Emily thought it was ridiculous. A life at the bottom of the heap, what's the point in trying to improve it? Coming from a lowly background wouldn't change that.
"So, what's it like, living here?"
"......."
"This gorgeous mansion, the food, the clothes. How does it feel to have things you'll never have in your life?"
What the hell does Emily want, Aubrey wondered, and before she could answer, Emily leaned in and brought her face close.
"You know what, sister, you know how I feel?"
"What......."
"Someone was my mother's niece who showed up out of nowhere. Aren't you curious?"
Aubrey could barely breathe in front of the pretty face that was so close. She was afraid her breath would touch that gorgeous face.
"Dirty."
"......."
"I don't want to have a sister who looks like my mother, so......."
Emily smirked.
"Don't get in my face."
* *
Rumors of the Count of Ravant's guardianship of a young girl had leaked through the grapevine and trickled through social circles. At every lavish tea party, there was talk of the girl.
"I hear she's the niece of the Countess of Ravant?"
"Really? I heard they picked up a stray orphan."
Barbara never attended unless she was needed, and when she did, she stuck to short answers and smiled when asked about the girl, so the rumors about her ran wild.
It was a crisp, breezy fall day when the rumor mill returned to the mansion. The gardens of the manor seemed to be bursting with colorful leaves.
A table draped in white lace was set with sliced apples, baked pies, cheese, and crackers. Madam Delove had heard the rumors and had come to visit Barbara.
"Are you going to let it go on like this," she said, "with all the nonsense those twitchy mouths are talking about? I can't believe you......"
Madam Delove covered her mouth with her hand and whispered, saying she never thought she'd have to say this.
"There's even talk of the girl being the illegitimate daughter of the Count of Ravant."
Barbara chuckled softly at that. It seemed like every story that came out of her mouth had a story.
"Countess Ravant, now is not the time to laugh!"
"You all have such imaginations, it's hard not to laugh."
A leisurely laugh when she could have summoned all the noblewomen in her immediate neighborhood for a full explanation. Madam Delove looked like she was burning up inside.
"Is that what madam thinks?"
Barbara asked bluntly, and Madam Delove nearly spit out her tea. She managed to control herself and dropped the tone.
"What do you think of me? Do I strike you as the kind of person who would think that?"
"Of course not, I only asked because you said the rumors were so rampant."
"Well, part of me wishes I could step in and clear it up for you. I wouldn't have come to you like this if I didn't think you were on fire."
Madam Delove's eyes sparkled as if she wanted to be believed that they were actually hot. She was the kind of person who needed to hear all the gossip that went around in social circles to get her gears turning.
And this one, involving a quiet, upstanding couple, had made it impossible for her to stay home.
"I've said it before I'm going to leave it alone. These are stories that will die down. That's what rumors are for." (Barbara)
"But....."
Barbara was a very boring person. That was how other women described her. She didn't do much, and she didn't get angry very often.
Many of them said they had found a family member that matched her quiet nature. But it was no fun to be so quiet.
“If it was a story that was going to die down, it would have happened so long ago. Isn’t that right, madam?”
At Madam Delove’s casual remark, Barbara stirred a little.
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