1.3 • Loving Family Indeed
1744 Words
Eleven Years Later...
BASH!
The sounds of shattered ceramic bounced off the walls of the Duke mansion from the youngest mistress's room.
"i***t!!!" Lady Katerina's sharp voice echoed, followed by the impact sound of palm to flesh, causing even the maids in the corridor to halt and gaze in the direction of her bedroom door.
Sylteena staggered to the side, barely maintaining her balance on her feet.
Her eyes remained cast down.
"Are you deaf!?" Katerina added, "How many times have I warned you never to bring my tea late!" She pointed at the broken tea set scattered in shards.
Sylteena's lips remained sealed, holding her hands together with her disheveled blonde strands fallen over her dark bruised face. Dressed in tattered stained fabrics that barely distinguished from rags, her slumped shoulders added to her submissive demeanor.
Katerina snarled, "How dare you keep me waiting!"
Again, Sylteena didn't speak nor look up.
"I am talking to you, you rat!"
"Forgive me, My Lady. Her Grace had asked me to run her bath—"
"I do not need your excuses!"
"Apologies, My La—"
"Shut it!!"
Sylteena remained silent.
"Can't you just do anything right!?! Ugh! You imbecile!"
Sylteena only lowered her head to a more humble bow.
Looking away from her as she flinched her slender fingers through her black silky strands, Katerina held her nose high as she let out a sigh.
"Just get out of my sight," She strode up to her princess-sized bed to rest her bottom and resume brushing her hair.
Again, Sylteena bowed once more before going on her knees to pick up the broken pieces.
Placing all the pieces on the steel tray, Sylteena then got up to stride to the door.
"Where do you think you are going?" Katerina asked.
"To dispose of these and bring a rag to clean the spilled tea on the floor, My Lady."
"Why go so far to bring a rag when you are fully clothed?"
Sylteena paused.
Katerina chuckled, "Clean it up. Now."
Sylteena's dull expression underneath her hair remained unhinged as she went back to her knees to use the flare of her torn dress and soak up the liquid.
She then slowly got up on her feet and bowed before walking out like nothing happened.
Katerina tutted, "Swine..."
She resumed brushing her beautiful long strands.
Meanwhile, walking down the long corridor of the Duke mansion, Sylteena's eyes remained fixed on the floor as she steadily carried her exhausted body.
Feeling the bags under her eyes weighed heavier with the whites of her eyes tainted red from the lack of sleep — her joints ached with each step, due to the punishment she served throughout the whole night by kneeling on gravel with a sack of corn on her head for accidentally burning the Duchess's dress.
Not to mention the endless marathon of errands they had specially prepared for her, wasting no time in berating her for each minute she was late.
Sylteena gulped softly, feeling the spiking pain spread across her growling abdomen. Her fingers clenched.
But of course... She hadn't been fed since the previous afternoon as part of her discipline routine because she was becoming too 'lazy', so the Duchess said...
On finally reaching the staircase, she immediately halted at the sight of the young Lord. She quickly stepped aside to bow.
"Good morning, My Lord."
Glaring down at her was Katerina's older brother, Lord Kingsley.
Dressed in corporate attire, as if ready for the work of the day, he had his hands in his pocket and his strands neatly combed backwards.
Having identical silky hair as his sister and mother, his black orbs scrutinized her from head to toe before he parted his lips to ask, "Is my sister awake?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"Mother summons you to her tearoom. She has guests."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Hm," he then looked away from her to take a few steps forward, pausing. "By the way..."
Sylteena turned.
"Go have a change of clothes before going there. If not, you know what would happen to you."
"Yes, My Lord."
He walked away.
Taking a moment to regain her draining stamina, Sylteena turned to resume her journey downstairs.
• • •
The indiscreet chatter and banter filled the air amongst the elite women seated in the Duchess's tearoom.
With four women seated on both sides of the Duchess's high seat, Duchess Genevieve rested against her seat with a wide smile as she listened to the entertaining gossip of her group.
Amidst all their talk, Sylteena silently served the table before the women with their desired orders.
Walking in with the last plate of cookies to set on the table, one of the women then spoke, "Hey you!"
Sylteena looked up.
"Hand me a shortbread over there."
A bit taken aback by the command, Sylteena decided to pay no mind to it.
She then took a tissue from the side to carefully pick up the pastry without direct contact with her fingers as she placed it on a small plate and handed it.
Receiving it without an ounce of gratitude, the noble woman then turned to the side to lower the cake to her pet dog tied to her seat. The petite canine began to feast on it.
Sylteena's brows furrowed.
The noblewoman then grinned as she looked back at Sylteena. "What?" She chuckled, "Did you honestly think I'd feast on something touched by your recherche hands?"
"But, My Lady, I had—"
"You dare talk back to her?" Another one of the women interrupted.
Sylteena immediately shook her head, "Forgive me, My Lady."
"Since when did you become this rude, Sylteena?" Genevieve's spiteful glare locked on her bowed head.
Sylteena gulped, hoping to the gods that the Duchess doesn't punish her for her mistake.
"Forgive me..." She murmured.
Genevieve then turned to the first woman who owned the pet dog. "Lady MacLean, do you see fit to forgive her?"
"Let her go, Your Grace," the woman chuckled, "It is more detrimental to have such a diabolic relic moping around you."
The others laughed.
"There is no telling who she would curse next."
"Who knows what evil runs within her veins."
"She might have already targeted Lady MacLean, in fact."
They all glared at her.
Sylteena only remained silent.
"Is that true, Sylteena?" Genevieve's came out rather provoked as she added, "Was your plan to curse a guest of mine?"
She immediately shook her head, "Of course not, Your Grace. I would never."
"Is that so?" Genevieve crooked a brow. "Then prove it."
Sylteena's eyes snapped at her.
"Drop those devilish things you call eyes, child!"
She quickly lowered her head.
"Like I was saying," Genevieve continued, "Prove it."
"H- How, My Grace?" She dared to ask.
"Leak off the remaining cake from what the dog was eating."
Her eyes widened.
"It shouldn't be too hard, should it?" One of the women tittered.
"After all, you both are on the same level."
"Oh please! My dog is of prestige standing, so I will not tolerate you condemning it to this monster of a girl."
They giggled.
Genevieve continued to stare at her. "Come on, Sylteena. Go ahead and eat it."
Sylteena didn't move an inch.
There was no possible way she could convince her mind to even imagine doing such, talk less do it.
Her feet remained glued to the spot.
"Sylteena?" Genevieve called.
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"Did you not hear me?"
Sylteena's wide eyes continued to watch the floor before slowly dragging to the spoilt canine that stood before the scattered large crumbs of the cake. Any punishment — any punishment but that...
Her stomach growled in disgust.
"Sylteena!" Genevieve's voice harshened.
"I can't..."
Genevieve's brows hit the roof of her skull. "What did you just say to me?"
Sylteena's eyes only gazed at the drool-covered remains that caused her to cringe as she repeated without thinking. "I can't, Your Grace..."
The Duchess's fingernails dug into the armrest of her seat.
The women gasped.
"You witch!"
"How dare you defile the words of our Duchess!"
"After everything she has done for your ungrateful self!"
"She should have left you to die after you murdered Lord Benedict—"
"Do not speak of my father!" She snapped in a triggered tone.
They all froze.
Feeling her chest heave rapidly and her mismatched eyes slitted, Sylteena's fists clenched as she mumbled under her breath. "Do not ever..." Her jaws clenched, "... Mention my father's name from those foul lips of yours!"
The women stared at her with wide eyes.
"What audacity..."
"Your Grace!" Another turned, "Would you really allow her to speak to us like that?!"
"Absolutely no regard! Imagine how she would speak to you eventually?"
With Genevieve's spiteful eyes glaring daggers into Sylteena's melanin skin, her face was already reddening in anger as her teeth ground against each other.
Each and every one of the women's words poured fuel onto her burning anger.
"You disgraceful creature!" Genevieve's eyes shone — Sylteena's body jerked off the floor, suspended in the air by an invisible force wrapped around her neck.
She began to choke.
Kicking her legs in struggle as veins outlined the skin of her neck, Sylteena's eyes widened in agony to the crushing pain of her windpipe.
She could hear the joyous laughter of the women began gasping for air. Her vision slowly started to blur.
BHAM!
All heads snapped at the door.
"MOTHER!!?" Katerina's voice erupted.
Sylteena plummeted to the floor — she gasped.
"Katerina?" Genevieve's brows furrowed at her daughter. "What happened?!"
Panting heavily with her hands still on the door, Katerina took a moment to catch her breath with tears in her eyes before raising the envelope in her hand, "T- The... The Queen..."
"What?" Genevieve stood up.
"A letter from the Queen!" Katerina rushed to her mother to hand her the letter.
"You opened my letter without my permission?" Genevieve frowned.
"That is not important, Mother!" Katerina grimaced with her face already red. "Read what it says!"
Genevieve then looked down at the letter with a confused expression before unfolding it to read the handwritten letters on the paper.
The longer her eyes ran across each line on the white surface, the whiter her face became, blanched of blood.
Her eyes widened and her fingers started to quiver as her breath cut short.
"W- What?... What is this?"
The letter slipped from her grip.
- Writer
