Poisoned Secrets chapter one

introduction

CHAPTER ONE

Following the stretching rays of a new day's sun, as it seemed to flow over the city of Narthwich Cove. The light dancing off the calm waves of the Tinted Depths, giving a shine to the dull dark blue rich ocean. The slow rhythmic sound welcomed the sailors and fishermen hopeful for a good day on the open water. As the light creeped through the cobbled weathered streets to greet the people starting on their work and chores in hopes of finishing before tonight's Wine Festival. Narthwich Cove, the crowning achievement of the Kewen regent, held the annual Wine Festival year after year. A celebration to welcome the cold times after long months of harvests and warm weather work. Music would drift through the streets full of people dancing, but more than not a few people who could have planned better. Someone would end up hanging off relatives and or friends so as to not meet the ground like a fool. The scent of spiced fruits boiling almost all day in sweet sugary sauces waiting to be served with butter cake or bread that just seems to always have that perfect golden coloration, like the wheat field that had produced it. Children would be running through the streets weaving in and out holding the presents their mothers had told them to take to such and such down the road to wish them happiness in the next year to come. 

Standing watch over all the city has to offer was the manor White Field, home of Lord Quella. A man who held the belief in his order and purpose above all else. Looking at the perfectly kept grounds could prove this point in a moment. The willow tree in the front yard had not a branch nor a leaf out of place, and the ivy draped dramatically across the pure white buildings, always in such a way as to give the idea that someone had not strung it there; that it didn't grow its whole life to be anywhere else but that spot. If that wasn't enough to give you the impression of complete order, the man himself would. Lord Quella sits atop the social standing ladder, along with the other four lords who rule over the Isle of Wesmala. A small but very prosperous island found in the Tinted Depths Ocean with a booming economy. There are very few things that could be said about Lord Quella, but one thing was true: he was a man not known for being overly kind. Taking one look into his cold gray eyes, which had a way of only looking at you to note your worth and measure how important you could be to him, would explain all that. Lord Quella may have a way of bending things to his will, but there are a few things that do not bend for men, and age was one of them. His short dark brown hair and beard were now peppered with more white than he could pluck. Also, he could no longer ignore the old suits that were starting to be a little too snug for his liking, even though nothing in his routine had changed in years. Another thing that could not be bent would be his daughter Hyacinth, for every order-loving cell in Lord Quella's body Hyacinth was the opposite. 

Hyacinth, a young lady whose thoughts could overfill the Tinted Depths and have it swallow the calm island of Wesmala. She woke to a stern knocking on her bedroom door. Knowing as she slid out of bed sluggishly that it could only be Bethany, the head maid and the closest person she had to a friend in her family home. Hyacinth groggily called out "Come in." keeping her eyes on the door, only partly ready for the storm her words would unleash. The bedroom door flew open, revealing a rather short and stout ever-aging woman in a long navy work dress. Bethany walked into the room, looking as disappointed as always in the mornings, never seeming to find a taste for the early hours; as she fixed a stray silver strand of hair with one hand and shut the door with her other. Before the door truly seemed closed, she was walking past Hyacinth to throw open the depressed plain gray green curtains. Hyacinth quietly slipped out a "Good morning Miss Bethany." A smile curled on her lips. The short woman turned sharp on the heels of her nimble black work boots mid step with a light smile. "Good morning lady Hyacinth, shall we go over today's schedule your father has set as we dress you?". Hyacinth walked to the middle of the room, throwing out her arms in a dramatic display while saying "Take your best shot.". As the young, rather beautiful lady dropped her arms, finding more pleasure in her actions and the morning sun than the tired maid. Bethany rolled her eyes slightly as she started pulling out the approved outfit of the day that her father had already picked and instructed to be worn, a slender full lank powder blue dress with a fine embroidery of white flowering vines around the bottom and all over the top, only to have it flow down the wrist length sleeves. She pulled out the matching ribbon from the dressing table and motioned for Hyacinth to come closer. The young lady did as she was told with happiness in her eyes, even if inside she felt that it was nothing more than going through the same motions as yesterday and the day before in a way making it feel never-ending. Once dressed, she took her seat in front of the dressing table, watching every movement in the large mirror before her. As she daydreamed through the morning routine, letting her thoughts dance in the sunlight filling the room. Only half listening to Bethany, her ears picked up on the word surprise. Hyacinth tilted her head, only to have it forced back to its previous placement. "What was that about a surprise?". Bethany huffed and repeated while still working on Hyacinth's thick, slightly wavy brown hair. "Your father has stressed to me to make sure you look perfect for tonight's festival, and to keep you on your best behavior so as to not ruin your surprise.". Hyacinth winced a little as her long hair went from being free flowing down her back to pulled up into a tight ponytail with the satin ribbon matching perfectly to her dress. She tried to talk through the never pleasant process. "The way you're repeating it so carefully makes me think you know what the surprise is and that you are being rather crueler than normal.'' The playful words were followed by her raising a cocky eyebrow and hoping her long-time care taker would take the bait and tell her the secret. The elderly maid looked down with a little hint of sadness flicking through her eyes, her amused smile falling from her face only for a moment, then followed with an almost whisper “My lady, I can not tell you no matter how much I want to warn you.". With that final sentence and one last hair pull and twirl of the dress, Bethany left without another word. What kind of gift would need to come with such a warning? The words found a footing in her mind and started to grow roots in her thoughts as she stacked up a few books on her nightstand. Looking around the now empty room, feeling the morning sun struggle to warm the space. She fought to rip the idea from her mind. 

As Hyacinth ran her fingers lightly across the pale yellow wallpapered walls in the stairwell. On her way down to breakfast, she thought about what the surprise could be. The words found their way back to her thoughts. Granted, the warning may mean very little. Her father has never done anything that wouldn't benefit him in some way or another. She drifted through her thoughts till she found a possibility to hold to. Maybe he was finally going to allow her to take on more responsibility. She had been asking or rather nagging in some way or another for years, never learning how to be as subtle as her father had wished. His benefit would be no longer hearing her ask and repeating the same answer of how she could not keep up the standards that not only came with his position, but also came with his values. What true harm could come from allowing her to plan a few parties and festivals? He could focus on other matters? She seemed more and more sure that this was truly a possibility, and that without a doubt it would have some strings attached, but that's how things worked after all. The thought of that being the answer filled her with anticipation and seemed to bring her already pleasant morning demeanor a little more joyful. She had a bit more pep in her step as she hit the last step of the ornate stairwell and turned to the right, almost spinning before reaching the dining room doors. As soon as the doors were opened, she was greeted by the smell of smoke from her father's favorite pipe, and she sang out with a smile, "Good morning Lord father!". Lord Quella's cold eyes looked up from his morning reports, "Have we not already gone over the fact that you may call me either father or my lord, never both? We have also talked about the fact that out of the two, I'd rather it be my lord.". Hyacinth's smile fell a little as she responded, "Yes my lord, sorry my lord.". She sat down at the opposite end of the table, her eyes fixed, looking down at the warm colored pine, knowing that was her place, and trying not to cause more upset for her father. A servant brought out breakfast and placed it in front of them without a sound. Hyacinth looked at the bowl of oatmeal and berries, gently pushing the mixer around with her spoon. Upon finding no blackberries in the mix, she took a bite here and there begrudgingly. Lord Quella cleared his throat as he looked down the table at his daughter, "I am sure Bethany went over what I expect of you today, but I want to make sure you listened and understand the full weight of this evening. I want you to be fully present today greeting the visiting barons, but you are not to bother them past that. Most are here just to pay their towns' taxes and to deal with other small matters of business, and they don't need you distracting or harassing them. Today's only goal for you is to be seen and not heard unless it is greetings. Do you understand what you have been told?". Hyacinth looked up in shock, with udder delight fighting the urge to make eye contact and control her tone. "Yes my Lord, thank you!". She had never been asked to greet their visitors before, only watched them arrive from afar. This only added more evidence in her mind that soon she could be planning events and greeting visitors regularly. Hyacinth would always just wait for the start of parties, trying to learn all she could about these strangers who would fill the guest rooms. Lord Quella nodded in slight satisfaction, yet still holding no emotion on his face as he returned to smoking and reading his reports that always seemed to be on hand.

With nothing else of note from the morning's breakfast, Hyacinth swung into her day, finding it harder than normal to not daydream. First up was her music lessons playing concerties on her cello. Somewhat impressing her instructor, but how impressive can playing the same pieces of music day after day be? She did love the feeling of knowing each movement of her slender fingers could bring about a chain of reactions. Making something beautiful fill the rooms that were often painfully quiet. She was rather shocked her father allowed her to take up such a class when he enjoyed peace and quiet. Years before, when her tutor praised her efforts to her father, she overheard his disapproval that Hyacinth would not be ready fast enough to entertain someone coming to visit. That was several years ago, now she played for everyone who came to visit, and watched her father smile at their approval and compliments. Next was dance lessons that would take up her time till lunch. Hyacinth was counting down every minute because lunch would mark the start of guests arriving. As she gracefully spun around the room she went over the list of barons in her mind and everything she knew about them hoping to not make a fool of herself. Hyacinth believed going over the information and daydream about what was to come would serve her better than going over a dance she had mastered at the age of fourteen per her father's request. She almost jumped out of her skin when her father appeared in the doorway nodding at her to signal it was time. For a moment, she truly believed it was nothing more than a dream, and that she would wake up soon. But as her father nodded more urgently, she knew it was no dream. Hyacinth could not believe how five hours could have flown by so fast. Suddenly, the feeling of panic rushed over her as she dabbed the sweat away from her forehead with a towel one of the maids had handed to her on their way out of the door. Another maid quickly took the towel back, before Hyacinth passed through the open doorway to the front porch. Lord Quella checked his watch as they waited outside at the bottom of the front steps for people to start arriving. He either did not notice or didn't care about his daughter nervously shifting from foot to foot next to him. She found it hard to remain still as her anticipation finally hit a climax. Just as she was going to give in and try to fill the silence, she caught a glimpse of something coming down the lane.   

First to arrive was Baron Clayton, a bald and very portly old man with a sunny disposition who all but fell out of a cranberry-colored carriage. He walked forward a few steps to meet his hosts for the next two nights. He first stretched his hand to Lord Quella, and then nodded to Hyacinth. Lord Quella smiled down at the man as he took his hand, "Many greetings Clayton, I hope your travel was not bad.". Baron Clayton responded almost unsure, "Greetings to you as well, as for the travel it was what it always is, but I made it with the taxes in hand." He motioned to a footman who held a medium-sized chest. Baron Clayton then looked over at Hyacinth and quietly said "I see he roped you into greeting all the old men this year.". She smiled, "Not at all it is a pleasure to welcome you into our home, but may I ask where your wife Linda is? I hope she is not ill.". Both men turned to her, Lord Quella in disappointment, and Baron Clayton answering with a pleased and overjoyed smile, "No Linda is fine, thank you for your concern, Lady Hyacinth. She just thought she would skip the parties this year and stay home with the grandkids.". Hyacinth smiled even bigger, "I'm glad to hear that. You will need to tell me what those two darling granddaughters of yours are getting up to later tonight.". Baron Clayton glowed with anticipation and pride as he nodded and headed into the house. Lord Quella waited for him to walk down the hall, making sure he could not be overheard. He then leaned towards Hyacinth to whisper, "I said you were not to be distracting, setting up conversations for later counts as distracting and harassment.". As he straightened back up, she heard him say something along the lines of "I didn't even remember he had a wife or grandkids.".

Hyacinth couldn't understand why the conversation upset her father. Maybe that last part she didn't fully hear was meant to warn her that she didn't have newer information. If Baron Clayton's wife had died without her knowing, she could have ruined their greeting. As the greetings continued, Hyacinth kept in mind what she marked as a warning and set up no more conversations for later. But when it came to not asking questions she found relevant, it was clear more work was needed. She couldn't help but want to make a connection with these people in any way she could. She kept her questions small, asking about how their harvest was, how the weather on their trip had been, etc. With each conversation, her father seemed to be getting more and more disappointed. Had the first greeting to Baron Clayton truly gone so bad? Her stomach sank at the failings that had happened that afternoon. No doubt, the chance of her being allowed to greet visitors again would not come again for a long time. As for the opportunity to gain responsibility, it had slipped through her fingers. Perhaps her father was right all along, maybe she was not ready for the duty. When the last carriage pulled by two massive pure white Clydesdales arrived, Hyacinth was excited. Out of the solid black carriage stepped a tall man with a shocked expression. 

Zyran the Baron of Holbeck Glade was one of the younger guests. He never had much to say, but was never rude about it. As he hopped up the steps of White Field Manor, running a hand through his thick black hair, finding himself in bewilderment, never taking his eyes off Hyacinth, still in shock at seeing her. The only times he had interacted with her was at this festival, but only when the celebration started, and never before since they were kids. Lord Quella greeted him the same way he had all the other Barons all day long. Baron Zyran looked at him, and Hyacinth confusion plastered all over his face till he finally asked "It is a great pleasure to be greeted by you both, but I must ask to what do I owe this pleasure?". Hyacinth went to answer, eager to talk to her old friend, who always filled her nights at the wine festival with conversation and companionship. It was the same routine they had since they were children. They would sit and talk about anything and everything, well Hyacinth would talk, and Zyran would listen and answer her questions. Before she could say anything, her father raised his hand. The action not only stopped her words, but also made her flinch slightly as he answered, "All will be made clear in time, good sir." Finding no answers, and as concern seemed to grow, Zyran turned and disappeared into the doorway. Lord Quella finally closed the door that had been standing open for two hours once the last baron crossed the threshold, leaving the two of them alone outside. The tired man slowly turned to Hyacinth as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, "I'm so sick of telling you or warning you of your actions. How hard would it have been for you to stand there and say greetings and nothing else?" No, you had to ask your questions. You had to talk about things that have nothing to do with you. I have tried so hard to teach you that your actions have consequences. I do not wish to see you again until the festival is in full swing. I'll send word to you”. Hyacinth lowered her head with every word and looked down at the deck, trying not to cry, knowing tears would only add to his anger as she answered, "Yes my lord." She knew there would be further punishment when all the Barons had made their leave and no one could bear witness. 

Hyacinth with tears in her eyes found her way to where she always went when her father did not wish to see her. The private beach of White Field Manor was covered in pebbles. No matter how many times Hyacinth would walk along, picking the small smooth stones up and tossing them back into the Tinted Depths. She treated each rock as a hurtful word, a time she messed up, or a worry she had. She walked along, thinking that she screwed up, her father was right. She had agreed to be seen, not heard. He told her to say a greeting and nothing else. As she came to a dead tree on the beach with a bench under it, she sat and cleaned off the waiting plaque. She ran her fingers across the raised lettering of her mother's name; a woman she only knew by name. Alora Quella dutiful wife 1862-1887 was all the plaque had to say, with no information or hint of the person it was meant to embody. Hyacinth daydreamed about the woman her mother was; the woman she could have been if she hadn't died giving birth to her. Would she be as disappointed as Lord Quella was right now? Tears fell slowly down her face as the ever-growing shadow of White Field perched on the clift above moved closer and closer.

As Hyacinth watched the sun's rays dance along the calm waves, a hand reached out to her gently sitting on her shoulder. She didn't even look back as she said, "I wondered how long it would be before you came to me. I was worried you would not be here." She turned to look up at a tall muscular man with a huge hopeful smile; she couldn't help but be happy when Lowell was around. Lowell sat down next to her, sliding in close. "You were worried? I was the one hidden down here for two hours. My darling, I thought something horrible had happened to you.". She looked up into his icy blue eyes, "I'm so sorry, my father let me greet the Barons with him today, but I messed it up and asked too many questions". He pulled her in closer, wiping the tears from her eyes, whispering "I don't think your questions could mess up anything, you only ask to show you care, and caring is not a bad thing.". He runs his finger across her hair, comforting her as she lays her head on his shoulder. "Tell me everything.".

They sat there for a few hours talking about how their days had gone since their last meeting a week ago, eating butter cake that Lowell had brought. Hyacinth told him about her lessons and the ways she had messed up. The excitement of her surprise, that she was almost sure she was no longer going to receive, and that she was no longer sure she could even handle the responsibility. Lowell talked about how well his shipments have been going, and that if things continued this way, he could open up new storage houses soon, maybe even off the island, making the business into an empire. Lowell inherited a shipping company from his father after he passed last winter. Before his father's passing, Lowell worked on the ships themselves, helping get cargo of all kinds where they needed to be. He always returned with gifts and stories from faraway places that Hyacinth could only read and dream about. 

She lived for their secret meetings, which started roughly five years ago.

Within those years, what started as a friendship had grown into a flourishing romance. Hyacinth never felt safer than when Lowell was by her side. It was hard to find time for their private meetings, not only because of the work he held, but also because her father would never agree to even meet with Lowell, other than for business relations. He had positioned to meet with Lord Quella several times a year, but they would always be refused or sometimes unanswered entirely. That was until the death of his father last year. With the sudden changes, Lowell found new standing in the community. Lowell’s family had always been well loved by the community, and the influx of jobs made his presence hard for Lord Quella to ignore. After years of sneaking around, there was hope that Lowell could convince her father to actually allow a courtship. He had made Hyacinth promise not to speak a word about it to her father, stating it was not a ladies place. She agreed, not wanting to upset him, and deep down feeling that she would mess everything up if she did interfere. 

Hyacinth sat up sad that their time was coming to an end for the day. "I guess I should get going. We have been down here for hours, but before we part I need to give you your wine festival gift.". She pulled out a small wrapped box from her skirt pocket and held it out to him. He smiled down at the box, running a hand through his long blond hair to get it out of his face. "You know your time is enough of a gift to me and the only thing I truly want.". She rolled her eyes, pushing the box into his hands, "Then don't open it and never know.". He stuck out his tongue at her with a playful smile and opened the box to reveal a leather-bound book filled with empty pages, all but the first one where the words "May your stories always be told forever, yours Hyacinth'' were written. Lowell looked up shocked, "Oh Hyacinth, this is wonderful, I don't know what to say". She looked at him beaming, "Just promise to write down all your stories that brought me so much joy over our time together." He studied her face for a few moments. "I was going to wait and say your gift hadn't come yet, but I can't wait any longer.” Hyacinth looked at him confused, with her head tilted slightly, unsure of what to say as Lowell got up from the bench. He spun around so fast and dropped to one knee. A gold band twisted around a ruby between his pointer finger and thumb of his left hand. "I was going to get a diamond, but I thought the ruby would go with your dark green eyes better. I already sent word to your father and I offered him half of the company. I'm sure no one could even offer him close to that much. I was waiting till he accepted, but what do you think, could you marry me?" Hyacinth's mind was racing, not that she didn't want to marry Lowell, every part of her wanted to, it was her dream come true. The young lady never thought this dream could be a reality. She could think of nothing she wanted more than being his wife, as she screamed "YES" over and over again, jumping into his arms.

As Hyacinth stepped back up to White Field, she couldn't help but glow from the happiness she felt. Bethany was walking towards her, no doubt coming to tell her that Lord Quella was ready to see her. They walked the little ways back to the house arm in arm. The young maiden smiling lost in a dream, while the older woman stared at the house that could never be a home to anyone. As they walked up the steps, Bethany stopped and put a hand on each of the girl's shoulders, "I'm so sorry, sweet little girl, I should have warned you.". As Hyacinth snapped out of her trance, trying to find the words for her questions, the door swung open, revealing Lord Quella. Bethany jumped, pulling away from Hyacinth as he spoke "There you two are, it's about time, let's go". The two women look at each other for a minute, but do as they are told, and follow the sound of music and off-key singing into the house. Lord Quella took his daughter's arm after shutting the door, nodding to the maid, and walked her through the hall into a room full of people. Some stopped to say how sorry they were that she felt unwell after the greetings, and that they were glad she was at the party now. Hyacinth, understandably confused but not willing to ask questions in front of her father, smiled and said "Thank you and sorry for causing any upset to the wine festival." as they made their way through the room. When the two finally reached the center of the storm of people, Lord Quella raised a glass with one hand, and the whole room fell silent in seconds. He turned slowly to assure himself that all eyes were on him before he spoke, soaking up all the power that his guests gave him. "Thank you all for spending another wine festival here at White Field. As it is the custom to give a present or a gift on this day, I thought now was as good a time to give mine.". Lord Quella looked down at his daughter, holding out his other hand for her. Hyacinth was so excited to take his hand, thinking to herself how lucky she was that he forgave her enough to still give her the surprise and make such a show almost embarrassed her. He looked back around the room, "You all met my daughter Hyacinth earlier today when you arrived, and it brings me pleasure in announcing that she will be married next week". Hyacinth looked at him in shock, tears of happiness threatening to fill her eyes. This was better than she could have hoped. Her father was going to tell all of Kewen that he had accepted Lowell's offer for her. She looked around the room at all the still single men most much older than her, starting to shuffle around the room. She thought to herself how lucky she was that they never even had a chance. Hyacinth scanned the room, knowing that her father would not fail to invite his soon to be business partner. Lord Quella enjoying the dramatics of his speech with a devilish smile, not trying to hide how much the power pleased him. "When going over the offers some of you placed, I was a bit insulted. That's why Zyran Teth has won the bidding on my daughter's hand". 

Hyacinth pulled her hand away from her father as soon as the words hit her ears. She slowly moved her head from side to side as she backed up into the crowd of people, clapping in joy over her soon-to-be marriage. She looked around bewilderment flowing over her face, seeming unable to hear the sound of congratulations or clapping over the ringing in her ears. She stumbled and bumped into people desperate to find a way to escape the nightmare unfolding around her. Some of the women reached out to help steady her, but they would always pull away just before touching her. Her father must say something, because the people around her were no longer clapping, and they were trying their best to not make eye contact. Hyacinth finally found her way out of the room, falling to her knees, no longer having the strength to fight through what she was feeling. She collapsed in the hallway, unresponsive to shaking and pleading; not even a command from her father could make her rise. 

The next thing Hyacinth knew, she was in her room. Bethany was asleep in a chair facing her at the foot of the bed. She was still in her day clothes, yet she could see the moon casting a glow over the ocean out of her window. The confused girl sat straight up screaming "Where is he, where is my father, where is Lord Quella?". The old woman jumped awake, reaching out to Hyacinth, hoping to comfort her and try to ease her back into bed. "There their child, all will be well. Your father is in his office and you are to stay in bed and rest. No need to scream, you will wake the whole house, or at least the ones that didn't have too much wine.". Hyacinth pushed her away, jumping out of the bed and throwing open the door, all before Bethany could get a hand on her. The young lady raced down the hall and then down the steps. She knew exactly where she was going, a room she was never allowed in and often was locked out of. Not tonight, she thought as her feet slapped on the floor, running to the door; yanking it open in a fit, not caring to shut it behind her. As Hyacinth stepped into the room, she was hit with the smell of leather from the books lining the walls from floor to ceiling, and the sweet tobacco smoke hanging in the air in large wisps. Her father looked up from his papers at his daughter in complete confusion. Lord Quella gathered his thoughts as he cleared his throat. Looking at Bethany, who was out of breath standing in the doorway just behind Hyacinth, he said: "It's alright Bethany, we can talk later, shut the door and go to bed.". The stout woman took deep rapid breaths as she closed the door, fear covering her face. 

Hyacinth stared down at her father, her eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't name or even recall ever feeling. Anger raced through her body and burned in her eyes, "How could you do this, how could you of all people pass on Lowell's bid?". Lord Quella stared back at his daughter unfeelingly and thought about how to deal with her outburst. "Is that what all this drama is about? Me refusing one of your worthless suiters calls for this level of disrespectful behavior. You should be so lucky that I didn't sell you to the church better, yet you are lucky any man would even want such an ill-tempered sow. Your wedding will be set for six days from now. I no longer want you in this house so you can leave my office and be someone else's problem.". Hyacinth, refusing to let his words cut her down, finding her anger outweighed her fear. "I know Zyran could never even come close to fifty percent of the largest shipping company in the regent; so how could you?". He got up from his desk, slamming his palms down on the smooth red oiled desktop. "I'm so sick of you thinking you're more important than you are. You may be next in line, but just like your idiotic mother, you need to learn you were nothing more than a means to an end. I do not owe you a single answer and never will.". She took a few more shaking steps towards his desk, unsure if her feet could even hold her. "You more than owe me an answer to why you took my only hope for happiness, the only thing that made life bearable. I may not be a perfect daughter, but at least I try.". Lord Quella huffed and walked towards Hyacinth, "Oh yes, I owe you so much for being a disappointment. Now get out of my office before I am forced to show you how much you are owed." She took a few steps back, but stopped herself from leaving. "What will it be this time? What are you going to do that won't show a slap, a punch to my stomach? No action you take can be worse than what you have already done tonight. How could you?". He closed the gap between them in a few steps, getting mere inches from her face. "What would you like me to say? That I didn't want that blonde tradesman weaseling his way into my bloodline when I already have something as pathetic as you already in it. Would that satisfy this stupidity you find yourself rapid up in? Is that enough of an answer for your ever-questioning mind? Is that enough to stop your worthless questions for once in your life?". Once he was done giving his answer, he pulled back his arm almost instantly, landing a blow on her stomach. Hyacinth collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Lord Quella stood over his daughter, watching her begging for air with a smile. He smiled even bigger as he kicked her ribs over and over. After kicking her while she was down, he leaned close, "How was that for my actions? Now get out of my office in six days, you will no longer be welcomed in this house, and I can finally move forward from my mistake twenty years ago.". 

Hyacinth crawled into the hallway while her father went back to smoking and going over his papers, not bothering to look up from his work. She tried to find the energy to get up to her room, but found none. She sat there for a few minutes, just propped up against the wall, taking deep breaths, fighting back tears and choking on what little air she could get in from the pain. She closed her eyes, trying to come to terms with the fact that this was her life and this had been for years. There was no escape and no more dreams for her now. She saw a glowing light coming down the stairs, but she was too tired to hide her shame. So she wondered who it could be. To her shock, it was Bethany leading Zyran down the stairs toward her. It hurt too much to laugh, but she tried, "Oh here to be my knight in shining armor, I take it.". Bethany fussed over her, trying to determine how bad the damage was this time. "Oh dear, he did a number this time. Will you help me get her up the steps and in her room before someone sees her?". Zyran looked at the mess of a girl on the floor in dismay, "Yes, I'll help, just tell me what to do.". The old woman walked the young man through how to carry Hyacinth, so she would feel as little pain as possible. He scooped her up as carefully as possible, but she still whimpered and held in screams of pain. As all three slowly made their way to her room. Once there, he slowly placed her on the bed, trying to be gentle, and took a few steps back. But before he could get further away, Hyacinth grabbed his hand and said "I'm sorry Zyran, but I can never love you.". Bethany rushed him out of the room before he could say anything. The silver-haired woman slowly undressed the broken girl, so she could try to mend the ribs as best she could. Bethany sang a lullaby, the same quiet song Hyacinth heard every time something like this happened. The now humming woman helped Hyacinth on with a night dress and sat down in the chair still singing.

The next morning, no knock came for dressing, no lessons were planned, and no Bethany. Just the feeling of strong pain when breathing in, and a casual cracking sound would happen. Hyacinth lay there alone with her thoughts, with each deep breath she and the pain became closer. Bethany came in sometime after breakfast with a tray of honey toast and rosemary tea, also accompanied by the signature turmeric paste in a large jar, making the substance almost look like milk. Hyacinth knew what everything on the tray meant and how to use it, knowledge gained from the years of beatings and their aftermath. The honey toast with its sweet, almost treat-like taste was Bethany's way of saying it would be okay that the pain would pass; it would also help give the body what it needed to rebuild what was hurt. The rosemary tea filled the room with its pungent scent, turning Hyacinth's stomach. She would drink it without a word, because it would dull the pain and make it so that maybe she could even breathe with only a throb instead of the stabbing in her side. That only left the evil glass jar. A stinging would start wherever it was rubbed, which was always the place that radiated the most pain, but it would bring down the swelling and make it easier to move. Bethany sat down the tray, looking sorrowfully down at the girl as she worked to change the raps, only to add the harsh turmeric. The old woman helped the broken girl sit enough to eat and drink. Never saying a word, just talking the tray when Hyacinth was done. 

After Bethany left, Hyacinth lay there trying to breathe deep even breaths, knowing it would hurt. But she welcomed the pain, it reminded her of something. Maybe it was to remind her she was still alive. Maybe it was there to show her she could still feel something. The pain was her only company through this nightmare that was her life. The only consistent thing in her life that was there with her hand in hand. Her bed faced the only window in the room. The large glass overlooked the vast ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was no sun out today to kiss the sloshing gray-blue water. The sky swelled with light gray cotton looking so soft, yet almost threatening to pop. Hyacinth thought for a second maybe the sky was trying to show it felt the same way she did in some small way. Almost like there was something out there trying to sympathize with her. Deep down she knew it was crazy, her mind was just trying to find ways to be less alone. Just like it tried to find ways to be anywhere, but this painfully plain light green room, a color so unwanted that if the light was on and you stared at it for hours a day, you would swear it was white. The only reason she knew it wasn't white was the years spent staring hopefully at them. Sometimes she thought maybe they were white and that her mind was only imaging the slim hint of green. 

The next time Bethany came to the room, it was with another tray with more rosemary tea and a plate of wild berries spinach salad with extra blackberries, Hyacinth's favorite since she was a child. The two would go on walks to pick fresh ones, but they never lasted the walk back. Bethany opened and closed her mouth as if trying to find the words she needed. "Your um that is Lord Quella announced your marriage to Zyran today to the townspeople.". Hyacinth stopped mid-drink and just stared at a fixed point out the window. The old woman fixed her hair as if she needed something to focus on. "I'm sorry Hyacinth for your pain and for so much more, but maybe Zyran will bring you happiness.". The emotionally drained young lady slowly sat down her cup, "I will never find happiness without Lowell. He will not allow this. I will not allow this.". Bethany moved to the side of the bed, slowly folding her hands around Hyacinth's "there is so much you don't know, please rest now my lady.". Hyacinth handed the tray over and did as she was told, sliding down into the bed. The crushed maid whispered, "Maybe tomorrow will be better, my child." as she shut the door as softly as she could. 

The final visit of the day brought much of the same routine. The only change was Hyacinth asking "Has Lowell come for me yet?". Her large sparkling dark green eyes only filled with sadness at Bethany's answer "No my dear, I'm sorry.". The broken girl retreated into her mind, not wanting to accept the answer. Bethany sat down the tray, filling the room with the smell of baked salted cod and seasoned red potatoes, but the harsh musk of rosemary could still be smelled. Hyacinth took her fork and gently picked at the unappealing bits of food. Bethany sighed as she sat in the chair, "You need to eat so you can get better. If you do, you could be up and walking in two days. Doesn't that sound nice?". The emotionally drained and depressed young lady had no response to her words. She just ate her dinner and drank her tea in silence. Hyacinth finally said, "I'll see you tomorrow Bethany." as she handed the tray over. Bethany took it and turned the gas lights off, and didn't say another word.

Author's Note

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