She was the last to arrive.

Her family was already seated at the garden table with breakfast served.

Cora, her mother, and matriarch of the Mezziane clan as the first to notice. She was an imposing figure. Her body slumped back in her seat with a glass in her hand. It was halfway empty, but there’s no doubt it was to the brim with whiskey before Annice arrived. She was decorated in fancy yellow fabrics from her home country. Exotic patterns made of the finest cotton and silk detailing. Gold and silver with glittering emeralds and rubies would cover from head to toe. But not this morning, it was a gathering, not a spectacle.

Even so, she still had a sour look on her face that she hid behind a sharp gaze. Annice would keep her eyes to her feet as she made her way to the table.

“Ah, there you are, you almost missed breakfast!”

“It’s almost noon.” Annice mumbled. You could barely hear her voice. But they were used to this tone, their ears were trained for it.

“I improvised.” Cora shot back. She sets her glass down. She leaned a cheek on her fist and stared down her daughter. “Would you like to explain why you were so late I had to push back our family breakfast?”

Annice still refused to look Cora in the eye. She stared at her frown instead. Would she like to divulge the information that she suddenly got cramped and needed help pulling her dress over her head? Preferably not. This garden gathering was embarrassing enough, she’d rather not add to the list of reasons she constantly needs helpers. She crossed her arms and shrunk back in her seat, reflecting the annoyed scowl her mother gave.

“It’s not like I asked you to.”

“Well, it’s not optional. When we get the chance to have some quality time together, I expect you to show up and on time.”

“Cora.” She briefly turns her attention to the large man sat next to her. Renfrey. Ingram’s father and Annice’s surrogate. He did not possess the name of Mezziane either, he was only a ward. Regardless, everyone under this roof knew the love and loyalty he had for Cora and his children.

He was a large man in size and stature. But he was always conscious of his own passive effect on others. He was gruff, wrinkled and baggy eyes with battle scars to match. His dark hair was streaked with striking grey hairs in his long tresses and beard. He was modest with his knight status. He wore the medallion but didn’t draw attention to it. The thing that caught your eye was the thin fur cloak he’d usually adorn. But not today, it was only the washed out blue of his tunic. It had a patch or two of mismatched color, a messy job done by Annice herself. It wasn’t clothing meant to be worn in public. But she appreciated the care he had for that shirt, at least for personal gatherings.

He takes Cora’s hand and gently squeezes it. She looks at him and pauses for a moment. She huffs a sigh and leans back in her seat once again.

Annice nervously glances up at Renfrey. A sudden wave of guilt drags her further into her seat.

“Annice…” He slowly removes his hand from Cora’s. “How are you feeling? We weren’t well.”

“Not really.” Annice quickly shifted her attention to the food spread before her. Freshly baked pastries, salads and kosher meats for them to feast on. Her stomach turned at the thought of taking a single bite. She nervously swallowed. Helen approached the table with a fresh pot of tea and poured a cup for each of them. “I woke up earlier than normal. I didn’t feel like waking anyone else up, so I just did some reading. Nothing special.”

Ingram side-eyed her. He barely swallowed the food he’d stuffed in his mouth before speaking. “You told me you saw a guy in the shadows.”

Annice nearly spat out her tea. She swallowed it back, cringing as she did so, and kicked Ingram from under the table. He jumped in his seat, yelping. “The hell was that for?”

“Annice!” Cora slammed her glass down, but they both ignored her. Annice set her cup down, smacking her brother in the shoulder. She had an air bubble in her throat from the heavy swallow. But she refused to burp, she held it in through a harsh tone.

“That was supposed to be a secret, you rat!”

He slapped her hands away defensively. “You didn’t tell me it was a secret!”

“When I tell you something in private, you should assume it’s a secret.”

“That’s enough.” Cora roare. The two immediately separated and scooched their chairs an inch apart. “What is the point of talking to each other if it’s going to end in a fight, huh? You better hope I don’t catch you acting like this when we are beyond these walls.”

Ingram mumbled his apology and wiped his face of crumbs. Annice cleared her throat, letting out a wet burp before returned to her stand-offish pose. Helen poured Cora a cup of tea, to which the lady of the house gladly took. One long sip seemed to relax her.

Renfrey had his eyes still focused on Annice. His eyebrows furrowed before speaking up. “What did he look like?” Annice looked up. “The man in your dreams. Did you see what he looked like?”

She opened her mouth. Then stopped. She noticed something had changed with both Renfrey and Cora. He was tight lipped and there was tension his shoulders. His eyes were always soft. But they were spiked with fear this time.

Cora on the other hand, watched his reaction. They flickered to Annice then back to him, trying to capture every discrepancy in their behavior. She had a single finger tracing the rim of her whiskey glass. Annice could’ve sworn she heard the glass whine under the pressure.

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“Does it matter? It was just a dream.” She asked.

“It matters if it’s caused you any stress.” He said matter-of-factly. “You know your health is important to us.”

Annice looked down at her lap and contemplated. Maybe she should be honest with them, or at least Renfrey, just this once. She owes them a little bit of honesty before the day ended. She’s already made a drama over breakfast. She didn’t want to sour the rest of their time together before she needs to leave.

She took a deep breath and sighed. Her shoulders relax and she silently picks at the skin of her fingers. She frowned at the chips in her nails. Days old, and no amount of filing would fix her bad habit.

“I know I never really knew him. But I think I had a dream about dad.”

She hesitantly looked at her parents. She nervously biting the inner flesh of her bottom lip.

Cora’s expression was immediately downdraught. A scornful look on her face, directed at no one but inside of her whiskey glass. Much like Annice, she had started bruising her lip, but didn’t draw attention to it. But her daughter noticed, she always did. A woman who was always focused on her outward appearance rarely made mistakes. It was only at the mention of her deceased husband that her true thoughts seep through cracks.

Renfrey was the same. His eyes soft and delicate at the thought of the late Lord Mezianne. They were extremely close, from what Annice has been told. Her birth father was the sole reason everyone at this table were able to be a family. They were far from perfect. Scarred and struggling to find a longing peace. But they were together, for better or worst. All built on the foundation of Zahir Mezianne.

“I-It’s nothing, really.” Annice spoke up, she forced down her need to pick at her skin again. “Dr. Franco says that your dreams are just things your brain can’t say out loud. Maybe I just miss him or something.” She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. How could she miss a man she’d never known? She shouldn’t feel any sentiment.

Annice swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

Renfrey offered a gentle smile to his daughter.

“I’m sure if your father was here, he’d be very proud of you.”

She noticed her mother give a silent nod and quickly take a sip of her tea. But she didn’t smile. She didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was a lie.

They dedicated the rest of the day to meaningless pleasantries. A walk in the garden. Playing games in the drawing room. Ingram and Annice did most of the talking and eventual childish bickering. Renfrey would cut in to keep the peace, happily and without hesitation. It was chatter about everything and nothing all at once. Dancing around the topic that slowly but surely suffocated them. But they refused to address it. They refused to acknowledge that after today, there would be no laughter left in this house.

Only regrets and longing for a life far different from the path they took.

As evening came by, Annice was left with the rest of the day to herself and a parting gift.

Cora had pulled her aside and presented her with a jewelry box. It’s dark blue satin was old and frayed at the edges.

“It’s a bit overdue. But this was a gift from your father.”

Her voice was delicate. It made the hair on the back of Annice’s neck stand. It wasn’t often that she used such a tone. But when she did, it made Annice anxious. It’s been dulled over the years, but she feared when her mother would speak so softly. Like she was willing to listen to her. To have a moment of vulnerability and honesty. But Annice knew well. It was a warning.

She could never describe it well. But Annice learned at a young age that her mother was emotional. Not just the occasional bouts of sadness or despair. It was terrifying. Cora would lose herself in her misery, usually accompanied by a half empty bottle of whatever drink she found that day. Her voice would be as quiet as a soft rain shower. But then, her true feelings would come rising to the surface. A roar of thunder able to shake the earth and take anyone by surprise.

Annice was never comfortable being alone anywhere with her mother. Especially if she stank of booze. Fortunately, today the only thing Annice could smell was saffron spice and crocus flowers. The look on Cora’s face was one of true remorse but also conviction. Annice swallowed the lump in her throat and steeled herself. She just needed to make it through this conversation.

Cora slid a hand to the front latch of the box. She caressed the satin with a certain fondness, pausing for a moment before opening it. Inside was a beautiful necklace. A long silver chain held a square pendant rounded at the edges. The markings on the metal were intricate and crafted with love. The markings were drawn to the center where a large glittering ruby lay.

“I know pearls are more popular with girls your age.” Cora looked down at the necklace like it was a newborn babe. “But he told me this was special.”

Annice carefully lifted the necklace from the case. It was a bit heavier than she expected, the silver must have been mixed with another metal. She put the chain over her head, bowing her head down to pull her hair out from under it. Her mother circled around her to help pull her hair free and brushed through it.

Cold metal touched the back of Annice’s neck. She scooped the pendant into her hand. It fit snuggly into her palm. Despite the cold, she felt warmth nestled deep inside. Her expression softened as she traced her thumb over the patterns and gem.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked back to Cora.

“Are you sure this is safe?” She asked. “If anyone saw me wearing this, I could get in trouble.”

“Why do you think I spent so long debating whether to give it you or not?”

Cora shook her head and closed the jewelry box. “I trust your father. If he wanted you to have that necklace, it was for a good reason. Keep it hidden for now.”

Annice watched her mother as she retreated down the hall before asking.

“Will you miss me when I’m gone?”

Cora stopped. She stood still, the silence between them stretched as far as the distance between them. She turned to look back at her daughter, her sharp gaze from before returning. But she didn’t meet Annice’s eyes.

She turned back around and continued down the hall. “Let’s hope it doesn’t have to come to that…” She muttered to herself. Annice watched her mother disappear down the hall, leaving her behind to hold back her scorned feelings.

She returned to her room at last. She shamelessly crashes onto her bed, the sheets fresh and without a single stain. She lay there, taking deep breaths in and out, replaying the day’s events in her head. She turned her head to the side, lifting the pendant to her face. Her eyes stung a bit as she quickly blinked away tears. She clenched the pendant in her fist, shoving down any of the pain and spite she felt towards her mother.

She will not be missed. Not one bit…That’s fine. It made leaving much easier on Annice’s conscience.

She sits up and tucks the pendant under her corset. She took one final breath before going to her desk. She opened her journal and flipped through the pages. It opened to a letter with a red seal, an imprint of a rose split in two by the broken wax. Annice snatched the letter and closed the journal, taking that along with her.

She crawled under her bed and tucked her fingers under a loose tile before pulling it open. Inside was an old buckle bag made of dark aged leather. She pulled it out from its hiding place and put the tile back.

Annice quickly went to her door and slowly opened it. Just enough for her slip through. She took one last look at her bedroom, her hand gripping the door tightly, before closing the door behind her. She was careful not to make a sound as she disappeared down the hall.