Chapter 91:
Yearning for Past Days
Note: This chapter contains some distressing scenes.
Leaving the Yursinean palace only to be attacked by the driver of the carriage… it was nothing Cordelia had expected. Panting, covered in splashes of sticky, warm blood, she ran, leaves and small branches littering her matted hair as she ran through the forests, looking frantically behind her every so often, even though the body of the person that had attempted to harm her had long since run cold.
The lace trim of her velvet dress was torn, but Cordelia ignored the dangling bits of lace as she ran, her throat burning as she finally slowed to a stop, holding on to the edge of a tree to catch her breath.
“Victoria…” Cordelia murmured, staring at the cuts and bruises littering her arms and hands. Some of the scratches were bleeding, staining the cuts in the dress with her own blood, appearing as if there were no tears in her dress at all. The pain had yet to set in, yet Cordelia could feel a stuffiness in her chest, a throbbing, dull pain that would not go away.
As she tried to take in a deep breath to ease her strained lungs, a sob ripped through her throat. Her hand shot up to her mouth, attempting to silence the pain and grief that escaped her mouth. As her legs buckled, and Cordelia sank to her knees, another sob racked through her as she thought about the fate of her maid, the only person she could trust.
When the coachman had grabbed Cordelia and held the knife up to her neck, planning to slit her throat without a second thought, Victoria, with her quick thinking mind, laughed haughtily at the driver, who faltered momentarily as he looked, bewildered, at the amused woman.
“You idiot!” She said sharply, “Can’t you see they played you? And here you are, falling right into their trap!”
The coach's face remained cold, but something about his demeanor changed, “Don’t try to play games with me.”
“You really don’t see it? Then kill her, and as soon as you do, the guards that have been following us since we left the palace will spring on you and arrest you. You will be charged for murdering the duchess, who is, at this instant, still considered an innocent woman. Do you know what they would do to you? You will kill a potential fiancee of the crown prince!”
The coach’s hand on his knife tightened, and Cordelia attempted to pull herself back, away from the knife, but he moved it closer, pricking the thin skin of her neck. He grew pale, though he remained stiff, prepared to do what he had been paid to, “I’m not a fool. I see what you are trying to do.”
“I see that you are not a fool, that is why I am trying to reason with you.” Victoria said, inching forward very slowly, “Take all of our money and valuables and flee the kingdom. You will be a free, rich man.”
“But wouldn’t they kill me if I let you both go?” The coach pondered aloud, glancing behind him as his eyes scanned the forest for any movement. Cordelia took that moment he was distracted to look at Victoria, who weakly smiled at her terrified mistress, attempting to reassure her.
“But won’t they torture and kill you if you kill us?” Victoria retorted, inching closer again, “Letting us go is your best option. You can sell all of our jewelry and fabrics and live a very comfortable life, or you can kill us, and spend the rest of your very short life in the palace’s dungeon, letting the rats eat the skin off your toes and fingers as you quickly wither away.”
The coachman froze, thinking. His blade was still pressed against Cordelia’s neck as the two women waited, carefully watching. Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment as she prayed to whoever would listen.
After a few agonizing seconds, seconds that felt they lasted a lifetime though they passed so quickly, the coachman lowered his knife.
“Alright, all your valuables. Drop them in front of you. And don’t do anything to make me regret this.”
“Thank you.” Victoria said as she quickly removed anything of value from her. With nimble hands, she laid her meager belongings in front of her, “The duchess has many more valuables than I do, if you will allow her to retrieve them.”
“Alright,” The man said, slowly releasing his deathly grip on Cordelia, “But try anything and I’ll slit both of your throats.”
“We won’t.” Victoria said evenly as Cordelia, now free, ran into the arms of her savior, the immense relief that washed over her bringing tears to her eyes. Victoria squeezed her arm as she said soothingly to her terrified mistress, “Let me help you remove your jewelry, Mistress.” Cordelia could only nod, her tongue in knots, as Victoria moved her hands upward to remove her necklace. It was an important memento to her, as she had received it as a birthday present from her mother. Victoria smiled at Cordelia, trying to reassure her as she saw the pain in Cordelia’s face. Though her demeanor was calm, she was unable to hide the fear in her eyes.
“Hurry up!” The coachman snapped. Victoria nodded, apologizing to the man whose knife gleaned, brightening with the promise of violence. With a sense of heightened urgency, Victoria and Cordelia removed all of her remaining jewelry, then her silk handkerchief and her embroidered fan, laying it down at their feet.
“Now step back!” The man barked. The two women did as he commanded, taking a few steps back as they discreetly looked behind them, waiting for the perfect chance to run. As the burly man hunched down, his large back grew as he leaned over the expensive belongings laying in the dirt. The mere sight of his form reminded Cordelia of the nightmares she would have as a young child.
Victoria slid her hand slowly up to Cordelia’s arm, giving it a knowing squeeze as her eyes slid over to the forest behind them. Cordelia discreetly nodded in understanding.
As soon as the moment presented itself, they would flee into the woods.
Cordelia had no idea if they would actually be able to escape from the strong, violent man, who could most likely catch up to them with ease, but neither woman wanted to wait patiently for her impending death.
When his hand looped around Cordelia’s necklace, his eyes widening as the jewels twinkled beautifully, Victoria grabbed Cordelia’s arm, turning them both around as they ran as quickly as possible into the woods.
“Hey!” The man screamed. They could hear rustling behind them as they broke into the forest line, but neither woman could bring herself to turn around to see what was happening behind them.
They ran, ignoring their skin being cut and their clothes being ripped by the sticky shrubby that attempted to slow them down. Cordelia could not even feel the tears that streamed down her face as they pushed their bodies to the limit, their pale hands and arms dripping blood.
Once they had gotten far enough, they both slowed to a stop, panting heavily. Cordelia felt like she would faint at any moment, so she pressed her head against the trunk of a nearby tree. Its veiny bark pressed sharply into her forehead, but the pain kept her alert as she tried to control her heavy breathing.
“Mistress,” Victoria panted as she held her aching side, grimacing, “I think we’re safe for now, but that won’t last long.”
“You should just go, Victoria.” Cordelia’s usually confident and stern voice trembled as she spoke, “I can’t run much farther. I’m too exhausted. I’ll keep them distracted long enough so you can get away.”
“Don’t say that!” Victoria snapped, grabbing Cordelia’s arm and spinning her around. Victoria’s hands clenched Cordelia’s upper arms tightly, pressing her against the tree, as Victoria’s face, ragged from exhaustion, raged with pain and anger, “I would never leave you behind! You are too important to die here! And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you!”
“Victoria?” Cordelia mumbled her maid’s name, her name leaving an odd feeling in Cordelia’s mouth.
“Quickly, take off your dress.” Victoria said, stepping away from Cordelia as she looked down. She began unbuttoning the top part of her own dress.
“What?” Cordelia stumbled out, before Victoria snapped at her,
“Quickly! We don’t have much time!” Victoria then removed the top part of her gown, sliding it over her hips as it fell to the ground. She shivered as the cold night air hit her bare arms and legs, and attempted to warm her exposed skin by rubbing arms. As she stood, trembling, in her slip, Cordelia nodded her head before following Victoria’s lead. Though she was quick, the blood that dripped from her palms bloodied her buttons, slowing her quick undress. With an apologetic smile, Victoria helped Cordelia quickly unbutton the rest of her dress and slip it off. Victoria then picked up Cordelia’s dress and slipped it over her head, buttoning it back up with practiced movements.
“What are you doing?!” Cordelia cried, trying to stop Victoria as she continued to button up the dress, “If you do that, they’ll think you are me!”
“I know.” Victoria said, trying to smile as she continued to button the dress, “Quick, put my dress on, before you get sick.”
“Victoria, please don’t.” Cordelia pleaded, attempting to stop Victoria again. Cordelia knew what Victoria meant to do. If they successfully switched dresses, Victoria would stay behind, pretending to be Cordelia, so Cordelia could get away. This time, Victoria stopped buttoning her dress and grabbed Cordelia’s hands.
“Please, Ma’am. Let me do this. This is the only way I know how to protect you.”
“I can’t do this alone.” Cordelia cried, tears streaming down her face.
“You’re much stronger than you’ve ever given yourself credit for.” Victoria said, gently moving her hands to hold Cordelia’s face. Victoria softly tilted Cordelia head downward as she placed a dry, trembling kiss on Cordelia’s forehead, “Don’t be afraid, and don’t forget who you are. You have the ability to change the world, Miss Cordelia.”
Cordelia cried harder, but did not say anything in rebuttal. Instead, she let Victoria slip the servant dress over her head, then button up the stiff velvet dress.
“Keep running north. You will eventually find a village. Tell them your caravan was attacked and you are the only survivor. I’m sure you will find help easily.” Victoria smiled once more, but the smile did not reach her terrified eyes, “Now, go! Before they catch up to us!”
Cordelia turned her head, glancing in the direction she needed to go, then turned back to Victoria before closing the short distance to Victoria and wrapping her in a tight hug. They stood there, holding onto each other as they took a moment to cry into each other's shoulders.
Though neither woman would say it, they knew this would be the last time they would see each other alive.
“Now go!” Victoria whispered, releasing Cordelia and pushing her away.
Cordelia nodded before she turned towards the forest, adrenaline pumping through her as she sprinted into the woods again.
It was only after she had run as far as her legs would allow her that she finally stopped, breathing heavily as she leaned against a tree. She felt like crying, but she was too exhausted to muster the tears to her eyes. Cordelia slid down the trunk, letting her legs rest as her chest heaved, desperately craving an influx of oxygen.
“Victoria…” Cordelia mumbled, glancing towards the way she had just come from. Maybe she’s still alive? Maybe they couldn’t find her and gave up?
Suddenly, a horrible, pained scream echoed throughout the forest, startling Cordelia and the birds resting in the forest, who shot up into the sky in a moving black cloud.
“No…” Cordelia muttered, her hands shooting up to her mouth as she felt the sudden urge to scream. Shakily, Cordelia rose to her feet, taking a step towards where she heard the voice, but she stopped herself.
I can’t.
Cordelia turned back around, stumbling as she forced herself to run again, away from the pained cries that continued to echo through the forest and into Cordelia’s mind.
Keep going. Don’t think about it.
Cordelia tripped on a branch, but picked herself up and forced herself to continue forward.
The pained screams finally silenced.
North. I have to go north.
Cordelia pushed a branch to the side, gasping with relief as she stepped out of the forest. She had finally come to a cobbled road. Though it was empty, she could see a large wall in the distance. She was almost to salvation.
Thank you, Victoria. Cordelia thought to herself as she stumbled onto the cobbled road, the bumpy stone awakening her trembling, tired legs. I am going to make it.
…
The palace was bustling, full of noise, nobles, and other foreign dignitaries as various carriages traveled down the stone pathway to the palace, arriving at the main gate as they were led by palace attendants to exit their carriages and enter the main palace halls. Blue drapes were hung around the palace, embroidered in gold, carrying the Yursinean royal crest on the fabric.
The carriage Silas and Malcolm had arrived in was one of the more opulent carriages, decorated with delicate vine patterns and a soft ivory shell of paint around the carriage itself. The sun lightened the carriage’s delicate patterns, and many of the attending guests could not help but stop momentarily, recognizing the crest on the door of the carriage.
“It could only be Duke Godfreed…” They began, their eyes full of envy.
Malcolm smirked as he rested his hand under his chin, looking out at the parted curtains towards the palace, a hint of nostalgia filling his gaze as he peered through the crowd casually as the carriage gradually slowed, preparing to stop.
Watching Malcolm with a close eye, Silas said, “You look at the palace as if you grew up here. Do you really miss it so dearly?” It was not a question would have asked, but something made his curiosity jump forward, taking over his mind before he could stop himself.
Malcolm turned to face Silas, his hair gently tied back behind his head with a gold band as he smiled and said. “It is not that I miss the palace, rather that I miss a person inside of it." His tone was full of joy, as if his wishes would soon be answered.
Silas’s face, covered with warm makeup, was twisted into a disgusted frown, full of irritation as he turned away, the short black curls of his wig bouncing as he moved, softening his appearance. “Fortunately our cooperation will be short, Duke Godfreed.”
Malcolm was a skilled cajoler.
After the carriage stopped, a servant quickly approached the carriage and opened the carriage door, bowing their head as they greeted the duke with a formal tone, “Greetings, Duke Godfreed.”
Malcolm smiled and stepped down onto the ground, his eyes quietly skimming over the crowd of nobles. Malcolm’s eyes were the color of citrine, a rare color to be found in the Yursear Kingdom, and the other nobles could not help but stare at his eyes with interested gazes.
As Malcolm stepped out of the carriage, he turned back to the door, reaching up his hand with a smile as he said in a quiet, delicate tone. “I cannot allow a lady to step out of the carriage by herself.” The white gloves on his hand were tailored to his long fingers, giving him an air of distance. However, when a pale hand reached out from the carriage and took Malcolm’s gloved hand, the chill receded.
A tall woman slowly lowered herself from the carriage, taking Malcolm’s hand with her right, holding up the trim of her full, heavy beige gown. The jacket wrapped around her waist was delicate and well-fitting, showing off her thin waist and shapely figure, catching the attention of the nearby gossiping nobles, looking forward to seeing the face of who the duke had brought with him.
Her face was delicate, covered with a thin layer of makeup. Her eyes were round, almond shaped, but the brightness of her green eyes could not be hidden. Her short black curls fell around her shoulders, and her lashes were long and thick, like fans. Even the woman’s dress, held in her hand, was delicately designed and styled in a fashionable Yursinean style, only there was no train attached to the dress the woman wore.
The young woman’s features were striking. Walking alongside the duke, her hand resting on the crook of his arm, the pair looked like a painting, perfectly paired in looks and elegance. As they walked towards the palace, Malcolm nodded his head towards some of the more familiar nobles and led Silas inside, who had maintained a simple smile on his face. His eyebrows, hidden under the black fringe of the wig, were fighting not to bunch together in irritation.
“How is the dress, madame?” Malcolm whispered quietly as he turned to face Silas, nearly speaking into the man’s ear.
Silas laughed gently in response, speaking low as he said, “Nothing worse than I’ve worn before.” He refused to look towards the duke as he spoke, facing forward.
Before they had arrived at the palace, Malcolm had taken Silas to another small building near the capital, where they met with the owner of a beauty salon. The woman was in her fifties, but her movements were youthful, and it was no secret there were great amounts of wealth coming in and out of the salon. After Silas was led to a room by the owner, he had changed out of the servants' clothes, Malcolm had given him a beige Yursinean dress for the afternoon, inlaid with lace and delicate crystal gems. The heavy fabric was well made and expensive, and the pattern embroidered on the dress’s skirt was beautiful. With the help of the salon owner, he was able to change into the dress and numerous layers, including the underskirt and petticoats. The corset was tight, but Silas ignored the discomfort and allowed the woman to adjust his dress as she pleased.
The makeup was also completed by the salon owner, and the older woman seemed satisfied with Silas as she said, “You make a beautiful young woman.” Silas, having been in his human disguise for some time, only smiled and nodded, allowing the woman to finish his makeup and place his styled wig on his head.
Walking in the wide dress, Silas’s movements were not stunted, and the corset, though tight, allowed him more movement than the more restricting corsets the salon owner had recommended he wear. Their pace was neither fast nor slow, but with the lowered heel of Silas’s shoes, he reached about the height of the duke’s chin.
Passing through the palace gates, the knights stood tall and greeted the pair, announcing the duke as he entered through the main palace hall. The royal family was yet to be seen, preparing for the grand event that was yet to be held. Knowing they would be preparing for the event, Malcolm led Silas through the palace with practiced movements, his servants in tow behind him. They were quickly approached by a palace maid to lead them to their accommodations for the evening near the west side of the palace on the second floor.
“This room has been prepared for you and your companion, Duke Godfreed.” The maid bowed her head, taking note of Silas’s presence as she maintained her low gaze.
Malcolm nodded his head and sent the palace maid away. Once the door was shut behind the small group, Silas released his hold on Malcolm’s arm with a frown of disgust, walking over to the far side of the room where the curtains had been pulled open and tied aside. He nimbly untied the knots and lowered the curtains, darkening the room slightly as he pulled them closed, allowing the candles to brighten up the large, spacious sitting room. Malcolm did not mind Silas’s poor expression as he walked to the side of the room, tracing his fingers over the back of the long sofa as he said.
“This room has not changed much since I was last here.” He said with a smile, his gloved fingers tracing over the soft upholstered fabric.
Silas turned away from the window and turned back towards Malcolm, the curls in his hair bouncing with his movements. “This was your room?”
The servants moved around the room naturally, adjusting the room to Malcolm’s preference as the duke stepped away from the couch, now facing Silas. “No, but it was someone else’s.” Malcolm paused before he added, “But I spent a great deal of time in here.”
As Malcolm’s voice fell quiet, there was another knock at the door. One of the nearby servants quickly opened the door and greeted the visitor, a palace butler. Silas looked up at the butler with a flat expression as Malcolm stepped forward, allowing the butler to greet him with a formal bow.
“Duke Godfreed, his majesty, the crown prince, is waiting for you in the west salon.” The butler’s lapel was adorned with a small, golden pin, a pin marking his position as a high-standing butler within the palace. “If the duke is ready, I shall lead you there now.” The aging butler bowed again, his expression formal on his wrinkled face.
Hearing the butler’s words, Silas looked towards Malcolm, but Malcolm only smiled at the butler, adjusting the edge of his right glove on his wrist as he said, “It has been some time indeed. Please lead me there.” Malcolm smiled as he turned to face Silas and said in a sweetened tone, “And dear, please stay here and wait for me. I shall return shortly.”
A shiver shook down Silas’s spine as he stared at the duke, however, he only smiled and nodded back in response, appearing sweet as he looked at the duke, much like a young woman in love. The tightness of his smile was hidden by the rosiness of his cheeks.
As Malcolm was led out by the butler, two of his male servants followed behind them, protecting the duke from any hidden dangers as the heavy door to the room fell closed, effectively muffling the duke’s heavy steps as he was led down the hall, his smile full of life.
It was not until Malcolm’s footsteps completely disappeared that Silas began to walk towards the door. The nearest maid saw Silas’s destination and firmly stepped forward, bowing her head as she said, “My lady, you should stay here and wait for the duke to return.” Even her words were prim and stiff, making it appear as if Silas really were a woman.
Silas adjusted the lace collar of his dress, his fingers tracing over the buttons covering the high neckline of the garment. His green eyes were chilly, full of bitterness at the thought of having to wait for the duke. Silas was not powerless, and this was his opportunity to take charge and find his family, even if it meant going against the duke.
Silas stepped through the doorway, followed by two of Malcolm’s maids. There was no chance he would let this opportunity be wasted. He had to investigate the palace and find where the dungeon entrance was located.
It was only a matter of time before he would be there.
…
Inside the salon, there were two figures, each feeling a wave of different emotions as the room fell into a silent stand-still. The two figures stood side by side in the sitting room, one tall, donning a formal black suit with a navy and gold embroidered sash resting across his chest. The other had his blonde curly hair pushed back, his light curls resting by his ears in a careful fashion. His suit was delicately styled, embroidered with silver threads and buttons, the details of the warm white suit fitting the young man’s pale pallor.
“Announcing Duke Godfreed.” The announcing knight began as the door to the reception room slowly opened. A tall, handsome figure entered the room, his leather shoes muffled by the plush carpeting donning the floor. The young man’s black hair had been tied back, showing his features that were similar to his cousin, the prince. Though, this man’s features had been aged for longer than Clarence’s, and there was an air of maturity hanging in the air.
“It’s been too long.” Malcolm began, opening his arms wide in greeting. As he spoke, his eyes trailed from his cousin to Alywin, who had yet to speak a word to the young duke. “It has been difficult to arrange a meeting between us. Fortunately we were able to meet on such joyous circumstances."
“It has been some time, Duke Godfreed. Welcome back to the palace.” Alywin spoke politely and succinctly, his words maintaining the important formalities expected by the Yursinean nobles. However, it was impossible to see the tips of his pale fingers trembling behind his back, covered by his thin waist. He could only dig the tips of his fingers into his palm to keep himself steady.
“No need for formalities, you two. After all, Clarence, this is a joyous occasion!” Malcolm spoke warmly, his eyes were crinkled in joy, the smile on his face refusing to fade. “Cousin, shall we sit down and catch up? It’s been almost five years since we’ve last seen each other.”
Clarence smiled politely, “Let’s do that then.” He turned to the side and waved his hand, motioning a maid to pour a cup of tea. Three glasses had already been prepared, the white china was simple but grand, resting on the sauces with simple elegance. As the maid poured the warm, fragrant black tea, Clarence sat down across from Malcolm, sitting towards the right of the sofa in the middle of the room.
Alywin watched Clarence with a cautious gaze, attempting to avoid making eye contact with Malcolm as he quickly joined the prince at his side, sitting to the left hand side, across from the duke. Once the tea had been served, each of the cups had been placed in front of them, steam filling the air. Malcolm’s golden eyes stared forward through the shallow steam, lazily passing by Alywin’s figure. Alywin rested his hands on the tea cup placed in front of him, his hands frozen cold, holding the warm cup of tea in his sweaty palms.
There was no escape.
…
Thank you all for your patience! This has been quickly edited over and now posted ^^; I didn't expect to have to do some heavy lifting and furniture assembly this morning, so it really threw us off course today... D: Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed Cordelia's part, and I want to say that we really have left Cordelia and Victoria's relationship up to your interpretation ;D And Malcolm.... do you know his sweetheart now~? hehehe
This has been an incredibly rough week (I'm planning a prom for my students and it's ass), but seeing your guys' comments made this week that much better, thank you (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡ We fought writer's block and won! Thank you all for reading and your lovely comments. I will be looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter, and hope to see you all next week! ♡ Stay safe, all :D
EDIT: Noticed two small incomplete sentences. Those have been fixed... Sorry all!
