Chapter 17 – Plotting Marriage
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//Author Note: I would strongly urge you to read Rotten Æther | Scribble Hub alongside this story. Shared world and setting, with crossovers coming!//

 

“Yes, you can leave without me. I’m not some baby that you need to watch out for, I’ll be safe with all my guards,” Belle insists to her hesitant coachman. She’ll be escorting me back to my estate this evening in an effort to make our arrangements clear with my uncle and to undermine his schemes.

There is much to be done and any delays will only provoke further action by each of our relative antagonists, as I’m sure that Belle’s unwanted suitor will continue his pursuit. It does bother me that this is merely another delaying tactic, a reaction to their plots.

Until I can pull everything together into a proper scheme of my own, the way these pig-blooded noble fiends are want to do, I’ll forever be forced to react to their misdeeds. I’ve yet to even gather the pieces to see my uncle dead, though I know that I cannot delay forever. Perhaps it would still be better to take a more direct approach in dealing with the man.

Belle clears matters up with her coachman, though she does resort to shouting at the poor man who’s simply trying to see to his duty. It pains me to keep my discomfort from my face at such a brazen sight.

“So, it seems that my dear beloved has quite the rage,” I say to Belle as she’s done, hooking my arm through hers as we tread the street as if commoners. She seems more at home here than I, even for my recent escapades.

“He wouldn’t listen,” Belle growls. “I don’t know what to do if he won’t just listen to me.”

“Did you explain to him that you are escorting a young lady back to her estate?” I ask. She turns away, her silence speaking of guilt.

“I shouldn’t need to.”

“You shouldn’t, I agree,” I say. “The coachman was overstepping his duty by disobeying you, but I can understand his worry. Servants who truly care for your wellbeing should be cherished, and while you ought to make clear that he must obey, it is our duty to ensure that they continue to have confidence in us.

“In this case, you might have done well to tell the man that you’ll be calling for him to retrieve you from my estate after your stay with me is done, for instance,” I say.

“Most people don’t put that much thought into things like this. You’re a pretty nice person, you know?”

“A pretty nice monster,” I correct, as Therina adjusts the sunshade over me.

“Just take the compliment,” Belle says, nudging my side with our hooked arms.

“I will accept your intentions, but honesty must be retained even in flattery,” I reply. “A compliment towards me is a compliment towards my parents, my tutors, and my servants, all, so thank you.”

“Who taught you to think like that?” Belle asks, as the crowd parts for us, or more accurately for Henry and Belle’s guard who lead us through, ready to intervene should it become necessary.

“My parents, my tutors, and my servants, all.”

Belle smirks, shaking her head at my reply.

“So, you really do walk the streets?” Belle asks. “Everyone says that it’s too dangerous and so I’m often forced into the carriage even if I’m just going down the street. It’s a bother.”

“They would be right in their assessment,” I agree. “We wear riches that would tempt many thieves who call these streets home, and others here would just want for our spilt blood. There is much righteous anger directed at those of our class, and this is simply an invitation for violence.”

“It’s that bad?” Belle asks. “I know mom and dad don’t seem to be worried about it.”

“The two nobles who play at being knights?” I ask. “They have visible æther veins?”

“Yeah?” Belle replies, not sure where I’m going with this.

“Only a suicidal fool would target them. They are powerful warriors; we are weak noble girls, there is a distinct difference.”

“From what you’ve told me, you aren’t just a noble girl,” Belle smirks.

“No, I am much less.”

To reinforce my point, I hold my hand out into the light beyond the shade provided by my loyal servant. My skin quickly reddens, and while it takes a small measure longer than before, my flesh still begins to bubble in very short order.

Even should the day come that I can survive under the light of the sun, the powerful magics that are granted by my new monstrous existence will never be expressed in the light of day. The very nature of the corrupted æther ensures that it’s destroyed, quite violently, at the touch of light and fire.

Belle pulls back my hand, returning it to the protection of the parasol, her expression a shade paler than it had been but a moment ago.

“You shouldn’t hurt yourself,” she says. “Even if it heals.”

“The pain isn’t so bad,” I say. “It is as severe as it was when I was alive, but I am not the human I once was. The sort of girl who would faint at the sight of blood.”

Belle’s mouth twists up as she tries and fails to find a satisfactory reply. I leave her to suffer from indecision as we return to my estate.

Our guards serve well at keeping the threats away but I keep an ear out for anything that might cause us trouble beyond their senses. The streets are relatively safer of a day, and of a night I’m the threat.

My various struggles over the past days have gifted me little in the way of social resources that can be relied upon and instead have provided me with much to think upon. Most especially, I must think of my future, and make proper plans.

I can be rid of my uncle and his family easily enough, in theory, but I’d rather grow stronger before accepting the challenge. Yet… is that truly best?

Is this my genuine thoughts on the matter, or is it hesitation?

No, there is good reason to delay.

I’m sure that I’ll be able to clear the pests from my home. That is not the whole of the problem, however. For once I dispose of them, I must also survive the consequences. I am not certain how to explain these killings, especially with so many servants around to act as witnesses. Yet, even with all these issues resolved there is still more.

The pests infect not just my home, but all of society itself. I cannot act as a proper noble when so many of my peers are trying to tear apart our kingdom. From the royal family down to the lowliest knights, there are few who still uphold their oaths, and anything short of a full cleansing of the whole kingdom would fall short of achieving any worthwhile change.

As a countess, I can do precious little to protect even my own county. What good is it to rescue my estate, when the plot of land and the haunted manor house can serve no purpose to a greater end?

On that point, what good am I? A noble without support? A monster trying to do good in a kingdom without honour.

What path should I tread, then?

What honourable paths remain for me here? Is there such a thing? Or will I be fated to become proper kin to my pig-blooded peers? Corrupted and destructive.

We arrive at my estate before I can resolve myself on a path. Belle stands ready at my side, more excited than nervous, I suspect. I think there may be something wrong with her.

The guard at the gate is exasperated with my freedom, but he withholds complaint, letting us back in through the tall gates. This home may very well be worthless in the end, but it is the property of my family. This, the titles, and the responsibilities I still bear are what maintain the good in me.

“Tina, you’re back.” My aunt is here waiting for me, her frame as massive as ever, but her expression is much darker, her lips pressed in a thin line and her arms crossed defensively. “I’m truly sorry about… wait, who’s this?”

“This is Belle, my fiancé,” I reply lightly. “I do not know why it is that you are asking for forgiveness, but perhaps in the stead of an apology you can remove your presence from my estate, with your family as well?”

“Tina, that’s…”

“You’ve come to seize everything, so that uncle can waste away all of what’s left here on satisfying his own pleasures. You forsake your duties and your oaths for the sake of greed.”

Her mouth works but no sound comes out.

“Yet, I cannot stop you,” not without monstrous means… my voice cracks, and the ice inside me quakes and shivers. Belle takes my hand, squeezing it tight. My burned finger stings, setting the dead parts of me back into the grave.

“I’ll name your son my heir, and you’ll leave. That is my offer for you,” I say. “It is what I offer uncle. The alternative is most unpleasant for all of us. I’m sure you saw what became of my family, you wouldn’t want it to happen to yours.”

“We are family,” my aunt whispers under her breath but I see no reason to listen to her silliness. She’s been playing along with this nonsense with my uncle, and I can find no excuse to justify that.

“That’s Sonia Newark, isn’t it?” Belle asks, glancing back at my aunt with pity in her eyes.

“That is still her name, I believe,” I say, raising a brow.

“I knew her, my parents helped to train her,” Belle whispers. “They told me that she was happily married to a Viscount, but… she doesn’t look happy.”

“No one would be after marrying my uncle,” I reply. “You imply that she was a good person?”

“I didn’t say that, but she was always nice to everyone,” Belle says. “It hurts seeing her like this, and you… well, it looked to me like you were kicking a wounded dog.”

“She can’t be wounded, she’s never fought. Not me, and not my uncle. She’s timidly supported him in his madness, and while it may look unseemly to you, she was trying to marry me to her son who is far from proper age. I will give her due dignity and assume that she’s not simply a puppet of my uncle, which means that she’s able to make decisions for herself and deserves to bear the shame of those choices.”

We enter the house and replace our shoes at the entrance. The streets tend to be awful filthy.

“Therina, would you know when dinner is to be ready?”

“It shouldn’t be long, my Lady.”

“Then, I suppose we’ll go on ahead to the dining room, make sure that there are enough places for us,” I say before turning to Belle, “Also, I should warn you, if you have a sensitive nose then you may need to prepare yourself.”

“Why is that?”

“My uncle has a particular ailment; it causes those around him to suffer greatly in his presence. Something about a hole in his guts, or some such.”

“Ugh, I feel sorry for him already.”

“There’s no need, he’s lost any right to pity a long time ago. The man is cruel and quite awful,” I say.

“I know, but I can still pity him,” Belle says. “Like a wild monster that’s proven too dangerous for a village. You have to put it down, but you still feel sorry for it.”

“I don’t see the comparison,” I say, entering the dining room and taking a familiar seat. The blood stains haven’t been cleaned off of the cushion, and no replacements have been readied either.

Did that monster spill my blood intentionally? Had he been careful, he wouldn’t have spilt a drop. Perhaps he, too, is a messy eater.

Even though it is still day, the energy in this manor resonates with me. The terror here is so utterly terrible that it wars against the sunlight itself, leaving a dark cloud hanging over the room that no candle or magical light can properly extinguish.

“So, this is where…?” Belle asks, taking the seat beside mine. “Are you alright?”

“I’m as healthy as a corpse can be,” I reply. “I am not human anymore, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Belle says.

I touch her hand with my own cold fingers, she settles back into the chair and remains quiet, but worry still insistently returns to her expression. That she can find a fondness for me, even as I am, bothers me. It’s clear from our earlier discussions that this isn’t some romantic madness born from deviancy, but genuine compassion born of a kind heart.

I still don’t know who exactly I am, or who I’ll be in the future, but I know that I don’t deserve this kindness.

“So, you have returned,” uncle waddles into the room, looking at me as a farmer would look upon his crop.

“With an engagement of my own,” I take the initiative, laying my hand atop Belle’s. “If you so insist on stealing my family’s title, then I am willing to consider conceding it, but you will not order me about as some piece on a game board.”

“You think this changes anything?” He asks, his lips turned upwards. “You might be a monster but you’re still a foolish young girl, aren’t you?”

“Marriage is a vow between two,” I say. “While you might have had grounds to force me into such an arrangement before, now that I’m engaged you have no chance to enact such a plan. If you agree to leave this estate at once, then I will consider making your son my heir.”

“You think that this changes things?” He repeats, with a chuckle as he takes father’s seat, it groans from the stress of holding his weight.

Rather than having meals properly brought out in their appropriate courses, a large dish of poultry is delivered right before the man while the rest of the family is still taking their seats.

My aunt looks at me with sorrowful eyes but says nothing at all against her husband. The man who is even now gorging himself on his meal before the rest of us even have anything set before us.

“I have the respect of our peers,” uncle says, stuffing his mouth with his oily fingers. “If I declare that you are married to my son, then that is what has happened. Your complaints will be taken as on the mewling of a child who has made a vow they regret.”

“I am already engaged to be married,” I declare. “It is now a public affair, and it is being made known among our peers. Your word isn’t worth so much and you know it as well as I do.”

“See? A child.” He chuckles, his guts grumbling loudly as foul odours bubble up from within. A small stain spreads from his belly, but he continues without showing any shame.

“Your word is backed by the truth; my word is backed by coin. Which do you think they will listen to?” He laughs. “Play your silly games, little monster, you won’t get anywhere.

“Oh, and does your friend know about that? How you’ve lost your right to stand in the light of the gods?”

“Yep,” Belle says. “She’s told me everything that you can only guess at. Also, it’s rather foul to bring up the gods in the same mouthful that you claim to disrespect divine vows.”

My heart swells as she defends me, her words scathing.

“Then call me foul,” he replies. “You wouldn’t be the first, and you wouldn’t be wrong.”

He laughs boisterously at his own flavour of humour, spit and half-chewed flesh spraying about the table.

Aunt remains quiet, the servants chatter in the background with no real care for their image, and the boy that would be made into my groom is picking his nose at the table while tossing aside the vegetables just delivered to his plate.

What they set before me is nothing so horrible that it deserves the sneer that I direct at it, but my new stomach twists itself into knots at the very thought of eating it. The food is only further fouled by the company at this table and the spittle that I can see dressing it.

I raise a fork from beside my plate, on instinct more than anything, but before the metal can kiss the golden seared flesh, I pause.

No.

I will not pretend.

There is no point in such displays of honour and manners when in such company. My tutors did not teach me how to dine with the dogs in the yard, they’d admonish me for even considering it.

“This is enough,” I say, standing up from my chair. “You have chosen dishonour, and you have chosen the consequences of seizing a haunted house. The blood is still wet, uncle, and it will never dry.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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“Enjoy yourself today, but let your eyes linger in the shadows a moment longer. Let your ears listen for the strange sounds of midnight when you awaken from your sleep. You think to claim this house, but it is this house that will have you.

“Good evening,” I say, stepping from the room.

Belle follows half a step behind, but I have no mind for her anymore. I do not know what I am. I do not know who I am.

Yet, as my feet take me to the ramshackle building on the edges of the estate. I step through the door into the company of slaves and I fall to the floor, my knees hitting so hard that they ache from impact.

The children, innocent and ignorant, rush to me with kindness and affection that I do not deserve, while I plan out a murder.

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