The world blurred as the rattling carriage sped along. From within, the girl watched as their pursuers drew closer. Their mantles of black made them one with the night.
They rode on snarling beasts, Vypin. They were horse-sized lizards with matted black fur and sleek wolf-like heads. Their hind legs, long and slender, propelled them forward like springs. It was a sharp contrast to their massive forelimbs, thick with muscle, similar to a bear's.
"Cassandra..." The girl whimpered, squeezing the maid's hand.
The woman drew her into a hug and began patting her head. She and Gregor, the butler driving the carriage, may have been the only attendants the girl had left.
Her guards had stayed back to face these hooded foes. But, the fact the enemy had caught up meant her people were either dead or had fled.
The hunters converged from both sides as the Vypin wove between the trees surrounding the path. There was a shout, and the horses cried before the world tumbled.
The girl opened her eyes. It took a moment for her vision to come into focus. The mud was cold and wet with an unpleasant earthy must. A woman lay a few paces ahead with purple tears running down her face. A pair of familiar violet eyes stared unblinking.
'Cassandra', The girl thought, unable to process what she saw.
She tried to call out, but no sound left her lips. Her vision began to blur as her eyes stung. She hardly felt the burning cuts and nicks scattered across her body or the crushing weight on her back.
"Please don't kill me!" came a whimpering cry.
"You can have the girl, and I'll do whatever you ask! But, please spare me!"
The girl recognized Gregor's voice. That voice had sworn an oath to protect her no matter the cost when she was eight.
She strained to look up and found the man kneeling before one of their pursuers. The hunters, leading yapping Vypen, had surrounded them.
There was a spray of silver as the man Gregor had been begging ran a blade across the butler's throat. The girl tried to be strong but could not hold back her choked sobs. She closed her eyes tight, wishing the whole thing was but a dream.
Beats passed, and nothing happened. Still, her heart pounded in her chest, and her breath came in short gasps. Sweat beaded down her back as she trembled. Finally, unable to take it anymore, the girl chanced a look.
The first thing she noticed was the bodies of both beasts and men. The Vypen and their riders now lay on the forest floor. Three people had taken their place, their faces blurred by the night. There was a man and a woman, both standing a ways away.
The third was right in front of her. As they crouched down, she managed to make out a few features. It was a child, a fact she found hard to believe. She had so many questions.
Who were they, and what did they want?
What happened to her pursuers and their beasts?
But the girl couldn't speak and found it hard to think. Blue eyes with flakes of gold stared down at her. They seemed to glow in the darkness. The sight, hauntingly beautiful, held her gaze.
She could not tell if the new arrivals were friends or foes. The child raised a hand, and darkness swallowed her.
***
With a jolt, Charlotte sat up, gasping.
"Uh, not again." She whispered, rubbing her temple.
She'd had the same recurring nightmare for years now. The dreams always came in slight variations. In one instance, the hunters wore ivory masks. A blade would impale Gregor in another.
She held no hatred for the man, only pity. His was one of the least among the betrayals she'd tasted. In some instances, Cassandra would whisper a few final words, though she never heard them.
Taking a breath, Charlotte pushed the silk sheets and the fur blanket off her body and slid her legs to the edge of the bed. She looked at the chair resting beside it.
It was a unique contraption Charlotte had specially commissioned. Skybark made it light and durable, Olrich leather made it chic, and the Sorean foam made it comfy.
She hoisted her torso off the bed with her arms and flung herself towards the backrest. She dragged herself over the seat, exerting every ounce of her power.
She retrieved a dagger under her pillow and another tucked between her mattresses. Each went into a separate hidden compartment beneath the armrests of her chair.
Then, Charlotte grabbed the silver bell on her nightstand and rang. A few moments later, Sarah, her newest maid, entered the room, carrying a tray with a pitcher of water and a glass. She bowed before greeting Charlotte with a smile.
"Good morning, my lady. How did you sleep?" She asked, setting the tray on the table at the center of the room before walking over with the glass of water.
"Well enough, thank you." She replied, taking a sip. "And you?" she asked with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"I slept well, my lady." As with all maids serving under one of the family's scions, Sarah was a member of a branch of the main clan.
She lacked the violet eyes and hair that marked a Mystshade, a sign of her diluted blood. Instead, she sported short, curly brown hair and hazel eyes.
"My lady..." the maid began before looking away.
Charlotte sighed, "What is it?" her voice was a little colder than intended, but she hated beating around the bush.
"Um, after you freshen up, the Matriarch has requested you join her for breakfast."
She froze, setting the glass of water down on her nightstand.
"She's here?" her tone remained even.
"Yes, my lady," Sarah answered with a bow.
"When did she arrive?" She asked, furiously thinking, trying to anticipate the witch's intentions.
"Last night."
"..."
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"How is the rest of my day looking?" She said after a pause. She wouldn't rush, not for her grandmother's sake. The old bat could wait.
"Um..." Sarah paused and Charlotte closed her eyes, holding back a sigh.
"After breakfast, you have an appointment with Lady Rosefield, followed by a meeting with a delegate from Lord Yorin."
Oh, how she hated dealing with merchants and their ilk. Liars and thieves, the lot of them. But the nobles were no better.
"Also, Lord Ariel requests your presence for afternoon tea."
"No," Charlotte's tone was firm. The blonde-haired man, while charming, was an opportunist. One that would wring her for all she was worth before tossing her aside.
"You also have an invitation from Lords Desir, Armin, and Edwin."
'Vultures, the lot of them.' Charlotte thought.
"Send an invitation for them to join me for tea instead." She commanded. "Send one to Ariel as well." She added after a moment of consideration.
She hated them, but that didn't mean she couldn't use them.
"And...Eve wanted to speak with you, my lady."
"I'll visit her before supper."
Sarah remained silent.
"Is that all?"
"Yes, those are the most notable appointments."
So there were more, but they could wait.
"Very well, help me prepare."
Sarah gave a low bow before she headed back to the door, where she ushered in two more maids. The one with ginger and light-blue eyes was new. Her petite frame and childlike features made it hard to guess her age.
If Charlotte wasn't mistaken, it was Deloris. She made it a point to know all her staff by name. The other maid, Evette, had been around for about three years. Her button nose and radiant smile enhanced seemingly plain features.
The two followed as Sarah wheeled her through a set of mahogany doors into her private baths in the adjacent room. The chair rolled across the polished wooden floor before meeting marble.
After her bath, she returned to her room, where the three helped her with her hair and outfit. She chose an azure blue dress with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt. She didn't put on makeup. She didn't need to. The whole process took about thirty minutes.
She wanted the old lay annoyed, not angry. Charlotte didn't know what the old bat wanted, but she hoped this tactic would give her an edge. When dealing with people like Victoria, you need every advantage.
Once she was ready, Sarah wheeled her into the hall while the other maids left to oversee their respective duties.
They made their way to the lift near the end of the corridor. The servants they met along the way greeted her with a bow, which she acknowledged with a slight nod.
The morning's light spilt onto the velvet rug that stretched across the marble floor of the corridor. The massive glass panes, spaced two meters apart, were crystal clear, giving an exquisite view of the garden below and the lake beyond.
The lift was a gilded cage that could be raised and lowered through an intricate system of ropes and pulleys. It made travelling between the various levels of the manor easy.
Sadly, most places were not as accommodating. But Charlotte had learned to ignore the stares that followed her when an attendant had to carry her into a room.
Usually, their owners hid them behind false smiles, but sometimes the masks slipped. Some gazes carried scorn, some disgust, and others pity. The latter annoyed her the most, especially when it was genuine.
Instead of the lift, Charlotte could have taken the ramp, which was always a delight. But right now, she was in no mood for fun.
As she arrived on the ground floor, she took a moment to breathe before Sarah wheeled her out. As soon as they arrived at the dining hall, Charlotte's loathing of her grandmother received justification.
Three of her maids trembled on all fours as they ate from a pile of discarded food.
"Ah, Charlotte, my dear! I was wondering when you'd show up!" Victoria exclaimed, her voice smooth and gentle. "You know, I was beginning to grow a little impatient."
Victoria was a vision of grace and authority. Decked in a simple gown of dark blue silk with her hair pulled back in a neat bun.
The only thing wrong with the outfit was the fox fur the woman had draped around her neck. Charlotte could have sworn the animal was still alive.
"What is going on here?" Charlotte asked, her gaze trained on the maids continuing to eat.
"Look how thin these girls are." Her grandmother pouted. The woman was more beautiful than someone her age had any right to be.
She had no visible wrinkles, and her figure was magnificent. Charlotte was sure she dyed her hair for it to retain such a vibrant shade of violet.
"Look at them go." Victoria continued. With her chin resting on her left palm, she watched one girl, a freckled-faced lass called Judith, tear into a piece of rotting meat.
"I can't help but wonder if you've even been feeding them." She tsked.
"You really should treat them better, dear." Charlotte felt her skin crawl as Victoria set her sights on her.
Already, she was on the back foot. Her little delay tactic may have made the situation worse.
"Don't just stand there. Come, help yourself." The woman spoke as though the estate belonged to her. Well, in some manner, it did. But also it didn't. What mattered was that she was a guest.
There was an assortment of food laid out on the table. There were roasted pheasants, truffles, lobster bisque and everything in between. It was too much for only two people.
"I do not enjoy eating with the help, grandma," Charlotte said, trying to clean up her mess.
Victoria's smile widened, and for a few moments, the two just stared at one another.
"Leave us." With hurried footsteps, the maids rushed to obey her command.
"Excuse me, my lady," Sarah chirped, then gave a bow before taking her leave.
That left Charlotte, Victoria, and Elias as the only ones in the room. The devilishly handsome man stood quietly behind the old crone. He was practically her shadow.
Charlotte wasn't privy to the nuance of their relationship, but she knew the pale-skinned, grey-eyed man was one of the few people her grandmother was close to.
"Come on, dear, you know how much I hate repeating myself." The woman's smile hadn't faltered once. "Sit."
She obeyed the command, rolling her chair to set herself beside the witch.
The sound of striking glass echoed across the room as Victoria ate with relish. Charlotte used this reprieve to think and gather her bearings.
"Did you hear about Nokita?" Her grandmother asked.
'Who hasn't?' Charlotte thought.
The Breaker's execution was already a sensation, and the debacle with the Breath only added fuel to the fire. The whole thing was major news even outside the borders of the Imperium.
"Last I heard, they'd yet to bring the fire under control." Charlotte supplied instead.
Her grandmother clicked her tongue at that, cursing at the fool that had started the thing. As much as she hated to, Charlotte couldn't help but agree with the old bat.
That fire made a bad situation worse. Dozens of warehouses and their goods, gone. Valuable materials and equipment lost. There was also the loss of life, workers and unfortunate civilians, nearly three hundred people in total.
Not to mention the refugees. It had been two weeks, and they were still streaming out. To make matters worse, based on reports, the damn thing had grown semi-sentient.
The Abhorrents were enough. They did not need the Schism encroaching further on their reality.
The ones that started it had probably taken inspiration from Xervos. They'd likely tried to replicate it on a smaller scale. The idiots.
"It's a mess." Victoria continued. "The crown lost half a dozen Nocturne."
Charlotte gasped.
"They only recovered three bodies." For a moment, Victoria's smile fell away.
Charlotte could understand. The palace would be in uproar. It would be best if the Nocturne were dead, as the king would sooner raze a city than allow a Nocturne loose.
The man was immune to sickness of the body, but the blood of Helios could not protect him from diseases of the mind. There was no telling what he would do.
"Several rumors are pointing at Providence."
She didn't know what to make of that. Everyone knew Providence, but no one knew Providence. They were a fable, a story told to scare children, like the Servants of Rapture and the Lost Children. Despite her vast network, Charlotte had yet to find evidence these organizations existed.
"Providence?"
"They found bodies."
Charlotte raised a brow at that.
"They disappeared shortly after."
"That is suspicious but hardly proof."
Victoria had yet to get to the heart of why she was here.
"Maybe..." The witch let the remark hang. She knew more than she was letting on. As one of the two royal spymasters, the old vixen would have channels Charlotte couldn't even imagine.
"So, have you thought about my suggestion?" Her grandmother said several minutes later.
Finally, they were getting down to business.
"Which one are you referring to?" Charlotte could guess, but she needed Victoria to put it out so she'd have room to maneuver.
"Edgar."
Charlotte clenched her fists at the name.
"The others are growing bolder." Victoria's voice was airy as she stabbed a slice of watermelon with a knife.
"Look at what happened with Nadine, that poor ignorant girl." The old crone tutted.
Nadine had been Charlotte's maid before Sarah. The woman had been lacing her meals with tiny doses of poison. Within months, she'd have 'succumbed to illness'. The tactic was old, but effective, so long as your target remained unaware.
She'd played ignorant for months, milking the situation as much as possible. In the end, She'd had personally slit the woman's throat.
It had been at Count Luxor's sixtieth birthday banquet. With some coin and a few well-placed letters, it hadn't been hard to paint Lady Ingrid as the culprit. That choice was still paying dividends.
"Now, I like you, dear."
Sometimes, Charlotte believed that. After all, the woman was an invaluable teacher.
"But, no one is indispensable," Victoria added, cutting up a pheasant.
"Your position is rather precarious." She paused, taking a bite. "With things turning on their head, you need allies."
According to her grandmother, the easiest way would be through marriage. Charlotte knew there was truth to that, but she didn't enjoy being a pawn. She had her own goals.
"Edgar is an excellent choice."
"Edgar is a pig." Charlotte spat.
The man was the lover of at least half a dozen noble ladies.
"We can't all be perfect." The old crone said, pointing at her with a fork. "After all, you also have your flaws."
"Think about it, dear," She sat back, bringing a silk napkin to her lips, "Besides, molding a person to fit your tastes isn't too hard. I can show you if you'd like."
Minutes passed in relative silence as Charlotte pondered.
"Oh, the king decided to move his birthday banquet up." The witch's tone was casual. "It'll be next week, and you'll accompany me."
Charlotte felt her hands grow cold.