《Woes Of A Villainess》


 1. Sinner

    Alistair Aurum De Villiers. The forgotten prince. The late King''s bastard.


    A ghost that had returned from the dead.


    Born from an affair between the late King and a maid, he was cast out and presumed dead along with his mother as a child, only to return years later to fight for his right to become King. He was an underdog against the Queen''s own son and his half-brother raised to succeed. At the end of a fairytale, the underdog prince overcomes the challenges thrown at him by his adversaries and wears the crown he had worked so hard for.


    But this is reality. And underdogs cannot receive happy endings through hard work alone.


    And those on top are indifferent to those they drag down along with the underdog.


    <hr>


    Arabella barely resisted as she was dragged towards the gallows, her flimsy body could scarcely withstand the manhandling of the soldiers on either side of her. Opening her dull blue eyes took a concentrated effort, once she did she regretted the action immediately. The sharp judging eyes of the crowd below didn''t phase her, she had grown up among nobility who gossiped more than they breathed. But, as shescanned the mob, she was reminded of the only people in the world left on her side. They weren''t here. And she was facing this alone.


    "For an offence that reeks to heaven: The act of premeditated murder and daring to bring harm to The Royal Family! The sinner, Arabella Lockhart, stands before us today on her day of judgement!"


    The executor''s voice was grating. She felt a guard untie her hands, only to redo the knot behind her back so tightly that the rope burned at her wrists. Then she could no longer ignore what was about to happen to her. The noose swayed in the breeze and she stared straight through it like a window to her death. In a few moments that would be around her neck. A few moments after that, she would be dangling by it. A guard pushed her forward, and by instinct, Arabella resisted as best she could with her torn nails digging into her palms. She was not ready. She had thought she had made peace with her misfortune in the year she had spent imprisoned, but all she had done was lie to herself. Her breathing quickened, and sweat dripped down her bruised brown skin.


    "Proceed."


    She froze, feeling the guard''s musket point to her spine. Arabella tried fruitlessly to swallow down her terror. He wouldn''t shoot. She wished he would, she''d much prefer to die quickly. But she knew the guard wouldn''t shoot. Becausehewas watching. Andheloved to watch her suffer.


    "Lower your weapon. She will do as she''s told."


    Speak of the devil.


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    Her teeth scraped together. Arabella didn''t need to look up to recognise her tormentor, CecilAurum de Villiers, in all his sickening glory. Befitting his new position, he seemed the picture of kingliness but she knew better. Behind that cold controlled gaze was a man who saw everyone as subhuman. Someone who took pleasure in stamping out all hope left in a person. His stately presencecouldn''t disguise his true nature from her, the woman who had seen his cruelty firsthand.


    "Arabella Lockhart. Declare your crimes now to the people and beg for repentance before you are faced with eternal damnation. Spare your family name from any more shame."


    She could hear the smirk in his voice as he uttered the last sentence and her eyes flared, finally meeting his. Her throat burned from the lack of moisture but she pushed out a scrapedcurse through chapped, bleeding lips, "Y-You... B-Bastard..." The crowd erupted into shockedchatter but Arabella had much more and much worse to say. After all, Cecilwas the one who forbade her family''s attendance in the first place. A year imprisoned without so much as a letter because ofhim. Isolated with nothing but his taunting.


    At her words, the executioner moved one step forward towards the inevitable,the scratching rope was fastened around her neck and Arabella was thrust back to the present moment. This was happening. The crowd''s incessantchattering grew louder, in anticipationof watching the ''villainess'' of Cecil''s spun story faced with sick ''justice''. With a raised hand, Cecilsilenced them, yet the tension could be tasted in the air, "My hand has been forced as your King to bring justice to my late brother Alistair. But with this execution, the cruel villain who dared to commit murder in her madness, will be judged before God and justly punished. I will rid this country of the blight that is your cruelty, Arabella Lockhart." Cecillooked almost too eager to continue with the execution. "With the lowering of my hand, hang the sinner and pray that she seeks salvation."


    And when his pale hand rose, the thought crossed Arabella''s mind of just what situation she was in. It was so cruel. It was so cruel that it bordered on hilarity. That she was going to be hung for not only a murder she did not commit. But for murdering someone whose face she could hardly remember. Someone she''d spent not even half an hour with, inher lifetime. And yet, the person condemning her to this fate was the very person accusing her of his own crimes. Shecould just picture them in a reversed situation. He was speaking to himself. Condemning himself.


    Alistair... The poor fool. They were both simple pawns in Cecil''s bid for the throne. They''d only met briefly, but it seemed that both their untimely fates had become intertwined withouttheir say. The crowd before her was not here to watch someone''s death be avenged, not for a pariah like Alistair. They were here for one thing and one thing only. To satisfy their morbid need to watch death without guilt. So herpleas of innocence would be wasted here...


    Arabella had nothing to repent. She had no shame to bear. She would not waste a single breath on these people. The lopsided smirk of disbelief on her face as the noose began to tighten had begun to put the crowdin a state of unease. They must think her to be mad. They would be right.


    Arabella met Cecil''s gaze a final time. His purple eyes narrowed ever so slightly in displeasure. That was not the expression he wanted to see. She was certain the message in her glance had reached him silently, even as he lowered his hand and she lost her footing.


    He had won. But they both knew who the true sinner was among them. And it would be his weight to bear alone from the moment she stopped breathing.

 2. Finale

    While dying, the strangest of thoughts crossed Arabella''s mind. She thought of everything and nothing.


    She thought of her childhood pet. She thought of late nights reading in her room. She thought of her father''s funeral. Random and disconnected memories followed her as she floated towards unconsciousness. She became weightless and inconsequential. Yet, among the blurred noise of her disconnected memories was one thing that prevailed.


    Olivia and Layton must be worrying about her at this moment.


    Since their father died when Arabella was 14, it had since only been the three of them together. They were never a normal family, far from it. They never got along like a normal family would either, but it was unspoken that they only had one another in this world. Her half-siblings were the closest thing she had to guardians. She was spoilt, bratty, and difficult. Yet, they never abandoned her. Even if they would go weeks without interaction, eat their meals separately, and argue, they were still family. And they were the only people who believed her wholeheartedly when she was accused of poisoning Alistair.


    It meant everything to her back then. It still did.


    She missed them. So much so that the thought of them brought her greater pain than the rope around her neck.


    Her mind flashed back to nights standing barefoot against the filthy damp stone of the jail and looking longingly at the sliver of moonlight that barely grazed her frostbitten fingertips as she reached out. She relied upon ''what ifs'' to open her eyes every day in her cell. All the things she would have done differently, all the things she would have said...


    Arabella didn''t want to die. She wasn''t ready. She had barely lived. Her death meant nothing.


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    But her time was closing in. Each moment felt like centuries as she felt herself slip away.


    That was what she remembered thinking in her final moments... So why was it that she was still standing?


    A harsh lightning strike barely pulled the girl out of her stupor. She was facing a large floor-to-ceiling window in wide-eyed disbelief. The heavy battering of rain filled the room with overwhelming white noise. This was her bedroom. Not her prison cell and definitely not the gallows. She hadn''t seen this place in a year and yet, somehow, she was standing surrounded by all her old comforts. A far cry from the leaking, rat-infested cell. Maybe she was dead or dreaming...


    Slowly, Arabella raised a delicate touch to her neck and was filled with instant doubt. Her neck seemed fine. But the sensation of the rope scratching at her throat and her desperate gasps for oxygen were too vivid. It was all so strange. She remembered her own death so clearly, each lingering second was imprinted in her mind. Each and every second.


    Again, thunderstruck, illuminating the room in stark white light. A sharp breath escaped Arabella''s lips as she was once more dragged forcefully out of her trance and thrown back into the present moment.


    "A dream...?" The words left her throat softly and without strain. Did she feel... energised? No that wasn''t the right word for it. She felt the slight lull of exhaustion from waking up, her mind slightly warped from the darkness of her room. She felt alive. Natural sensations that she had before seen as inconveniences before learning what extreme exhaustion and cold felt like in her cell.


    When had she fallen asleep? There was no other explanation for this but a long and painful nightmare. One that seemed to last for years. It was certainly a bad omen of some kind. Arabella sighed, resting her head against the cool glass window,  letting the sounds of rain wash out the troublesome thought in her mind. It soothed her.


    It was pitch black. Just how long had she been asleep? It would be best for her to not get so worked up over nothing. Her feet padded across the plush carpet of her room and she buried herself deep in the soft blankets of her large bed. For a long while, she just lay there, hugging a pillow to her chest. Listening to the rain, she let herself rest easy for what felt like the first time in a while without the burden of her thoughts. Everything was fine...


    Until come morning, she had spared one glance at her reflection in clear daylight.

 3. Encore

    "...Huh...?"


    Arabella stopped in her tracks, her smaller-than-usual body freezing up as she stared at herself in the mirror in the early morning hours. Something... Wasn''t right. She touched her soft brown cheeks and squinted at the girl staring back at her.


    This was not the body of an 18-year-old.


    Her stature was considerably shorter than she remembered. Her curls used to cascade down her lower back and required much maintenance, but now they stopped just past her shoulders. Yet everything else felt the same, she recognised this as herself, though... Herself from a different point in time that couldn''t be specified. Sharp blue eyes inherited from her father, Auburn brown hair inherited from her mother, even the prominent beauty mark under her right eye - none of that had changed. Was she still dreaming? She felt dizzy all of a sudden, but she was definitely 18... right?


    Before she could stumble from the confusion, Arabella dragged herself back to sit on her bed again, the soft mattress dipping from her weight. The rain had followed through to the morning, leaving the sky an overcast grey, the dull noise of rainfall only adding to the noise in her mind. She just needed time to think things through, was all. She was not going crazy.


    A sharp knock sent the girl jolting to her feet in shock, spinning to face the large double doors across the room. A familiar monotone voice sounded from the other side, "May I enter, Milady?" Arabella swallowed hard and found it impossible to find her voice. It had felt like years since she had last heard from her maid, Aubrey, even if it couldn''t possibly be the case. She didn''t know quite how to feel at the prospect of seeing her in this stupor. "...If you are busy, I will return when you ring for me-"


    "No! Come in!"  Despite her conflicted emotions, Arabella finally called out with furrowed brows. After all, seeing Aubrey, the definition of her status quo may bring her back to reality. They had known each other since Arabella turned 10, and every day since then followed the same routine.


    Arabella watched carefully as the double doors gently opened, and the familiar woman entered. Aubrey had always been tall, slender and collected. Her Sleek black hair was always pulled back into a tidy bun, her steel grey eyes always looking straight ahead and her lips always in a relaxed line. Arabella was suddenly made hyper-aware of what a mess she looked like compared to Aubrey''s organised look.  But most importantly, Aubrey was here and she barely looked or acted any different than she remembered. That had to mean something. Maybe all of that really was just a terrible nightmare. She let out a quiet sigh of relief and sat back down on her bed, feeling some anxiety leave her immediately. But her remaining worries left her to ask, just in case, "Aubrey... What was I doing yesterday?" She felt a little tense asking, afraid of the answer. "I had the strangest dream and... I can''t remember at all."


    Aubrey had already begun going to work around the room, thrusting all the curtains wide open in powerful motions but paused at the question. She seemed uncharacteristically quiet for the briefest moment, making all the anxiety flood back into Arabella''s body as she clenched her fists in anticipation of the answer. Aubrey cleared her throat, avoiding her gaze, "...Yesterday was the Earl''s burial, Milady..."


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    A pin drop could be heard in the room.


    "...The Earl''s... burial...?" Arabella repeated, as though on autopilot. Disbelief... Couldn''t even describe her emotion. She felt her pulse quicken and bit her cheek before coldly staring at Aubrey. Was she really supposed to believe that she had watched her father be buried a second time? "Is... Is that supposed to be a joke?"


    "No. You spent the morning at the burial. The rest of the day was spent alone in your room." Aubrey assured, though her lips pursed in concern. She walked towards Arabella, brows furrowed. "...Your brother mentioned your tutoring would be postponed, for the time being, there is no need to exert yourself."


    Arabella took in the information. Her father died when she turned 14. She looked younger in the mirror. And now, her most trusted maid was telling her she had attended his burial 24 hours ago. Now that Aubrey had moved closer, Arabella couldn''t help but notice something strange. Aubrey, who she saw nothing wrong with earlier now also seemed a little strange. She looked subtly younger... She would know. It was Aubrey who woke her and put her to bed when she was 10 and the subtle ageing she remembered was all gone.


    Then there was the issue of her own appearance. She definitely looked younger than she felt... 14 maybe...? It felt wrong to look at this version of herself in the mirror. She really felt that her true reflection was that of the girl in her dream. The more she really thought about it... Did she really dream up an entire detailed 4 years in the span of one night? She''d read of people experiencing similar dreams in stories but the vividness she remembered in each and every morbid detail was beyond the ordinary. It was as though she had really lived through that nightmare...


    Aubrey seemed to be growing slightly more worried from Arabella''s silence, but before she could say anything, the girl seemed to jolt to alertness at a realisation that had crossed her mind,


    "Cecil or Frances. Who is on the throne at the moment?"


    Arabella''s tone was unstable, yet firm. Aubrey''s eyebrows shot upwards at the casual tone used to refer to royalty, though she quickly returned to her even expression and cleared her throat to shake off her surprise, "...Her Majesty, Queen Frances... Milady."


    Arabella involuntarily stumbled ever so slightly. She had figured that would be the case, but hearing confirmation for it was something different entirely... Was she really in the past? It was too insane for her to believe wholeheartedly but if there was even the slightest possibility...


    A spark of realisation hit her like lightning and her shoulders squared. Without even blinking, Arabella tried her best to sound calm while staring into the vast world outside her window, "Please... leave me alone for the rest of the day." With a curtsey, Aubrey immediately excused herself and Arabella was left alone at last.


    Arabella walked to her balcony, hands trembling all the way and thrust open the doors. A barrage of raindrops hit her face and began to soak her nightgown. The cold seeped through, her bare feet struggled to stay steady on the wet floor and the wind whipped at her hair. When a shiver wracked through her body, she was reminded again.


    She was alive.


    Against all odds, she was still standing and breathing. She was given another chance.


    And Cecil hadn''t won.


    Not yet, at least. She gripped her cold hands to the railing and looked out over the estate that sprawled on for miles. Not even the cold could erase the incredulous smile plastered on her lips. If she really was 14 right now like she believed, Frances would be on the throne for another 2 years before dying. It was then that Cecil''s scheme would come into play, giving her 2 years to get ahead... Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.


    "Ah, what to do... I''ve truly been blessed..." Her beating heart was a gift and she clenched the clothing at her chest in recognition of that. A sudden dark aura encompassed her as a dangerous smile settled firmly on Arabella''s sharp features.


    "Cecil... Just how should I ruin you?"

 4. Retribution

    Just as Arabella recalled, the halls of the manor were morbidly silent following her father, Ishir Lockhart''s, funeral. It was a time in her life in which she distinctly remembered her solitude. Layton was occupied with taking over their father''s duties and preparing for his new role as Earl. Meanwhile, Olivia preoccupied herself with studying in her room at all hours, most likely to avoid everyone. The three of them rarely saw each other before, but it worsened once their father was no longer around to force the occasional family dinner. It was a mutual avoidance. It was better to not see one another than to risk any more fighting in their current states.


    But it meant that she had the vast expanse of the home to herself, and she could go about her business without question.


    "Milady, would you like me to reach those for you...?"


    "I''m fine." Arabella lied in a disgruntled huff to Aubrey. Her pitiful attempts to tiptoe on the ladder as she stretched painfully towards a book did not go unnoticed. The library was stocked with sliding ladders on each self for this exact reason, yet she still mourned her height. Arabella was a late bloomer, only receiving her dramatic growth spurt at 16. Until then, she would simply have to settle. A gasp left her throat when her finger grazed the book just enough to send it tumbling down to be swiftly caught by Aubrey who was waiting patiently below. With a sigh of relief, Arabella slid back down the ladder to get back onto the solid ground.


    "History? Economics? And... Politics?" Aubrey eyed the pile of books in her arms with a questioning gaze.


    Arabella scowled and dusted off her hands, "Do you have anything to comment on?"


    "Not at all, mildly..." Aubrey corrected herself for thinking aloud. A bead of nervous sweat rolled down her neck for fear of angering the temperamental teenager before her.


    Arabella didn''t really know where to begin with her plans, but she was certain of one thing. She could not squander this chance she had been given. The simplest thing she could do right now was to educate herself. Relying on her social standing and appearance was what made her so gullible. There was no excuse to fall behind, now that she had this headstart.


    Aubrey followed obediently behind Arabella, the pile of books in hand. Her silver eyes stared at the young girl''s back in unrelenting curiosity. Now that no eyes were on her, Aubrey''s mask of stoicism fell and she tilted her head in thought. It was indeed strange for Arabella to show an interest in such things; it wasn''t uncommon for her to walk out of lessons with her tutor out of boredom. Her mind wandered between the differences in behaviour she had observed a mere day apart. Arabella had sobbed terribly at Earl Lockhart''s funeral and remained inconsolable for the rest of the day. Then, the morning after it was as though nothing had happened and the young girl had calmed down immensely. But her reason won against her suspicions, as she shook her head as though to dismiss the thought. It wasn''t her place, but she couldn''t stop herself from wondering what had happened.


    The walk was silent all the way back to Arabella''s bedroom and by instinct, Aubrey moved forward to open the door for her lady as she always did, only to be stopped by a small hand ordering her to wait.


    "You can stop here," Arabella began to take the books out of Aubrey''s arms and they seemed to tower over her small frame. Aubrey watched in stunned silence as Arabella smiled softly and made her way into the bedroom. "I''m going to relax for the rest of the day, so don''t come by unless it''s necessary, alright?"


    Aubrey simply stared, straight-lipped, before uttering, "Y...Yes, milady."


    And then the door slammed shut.


    Arabella''s smile fell immediately and she stared at the door, a serious expression making its way onto her face. Only when she heard Aubrey''s footsteps fade into the distance, did she deem it safe to get to work. Swiftly, she glided towards her desk, setting the stack of textbooks on the surface for later. With another cautious glance towards the door, she opened up the drawer and her nimble fingers worked to remove the false bottom.


    Her journal was just as she remembered leaving it.


    Delicately, she removed the journal from the desk and sat herself down before picking up a pen, "Where did I leave off..."


    It was of the utmost importance that every detail Arabella could remember lined up correctly in her head; No matter how small or insignificant, it could help save her life. When she turned 16, Queen Frances had just passed and it was expected that as the only child, Cecil would soon ascend to the throne. Not long after, she had her social debut. That was where everything began to go wrong.


    It was a disappointment in every way. Arabella didn''t stand out at all among the others, her etiquette was less than stellar and it seemed as though her past governess had begun talking ill of her amongst high society so she already had a bad reputation. Yet, despite this, she had gained the attention of Prince Cecil and in return for the modicum of positive attention she received, she clung to him. He didn''t turn her away or even try to dispel the growing rumours surrounding them. Instead, he played up his amicable persona and lured Arabella closer to his honey trap. So much so, she began to believe the rumours of a possible engagement between them. Just like that, she had become blinded to Cecil''s true intentions.


    Then, Alistair made his sudden reappearance. Arabella stayed on the sidelines as she watched the chaos ensue, as people flooded to prove that he was indeed the son of the late king and not an imposter stealing the identity of a dead child. She could hardly believe it when he was declared royal, even less so when he made a claim for the throne, but thought nothing of it since it didn''t concern her. How wrong she was.


    Cecil''s mask had begun to slip upon Alistair''s appearance and worsened every day since. With no current Monarch, it was left up to the royal council to select an official crown royal. Becoming King was no longer a guarantee for him, even if it was the most likely scenario. But that wasn''t enough for Cecil, he wanted absolute control. He was no longer trying to pretend to care about her. But by then, she was desperately seeking his approval and blamed herself for his lack of interest. She just needed to work harder, she needed to be better.


    So like the young fool she was, she confronted Alistair alone.


    <hr>


    The shining allure of the ballroom dimmed behind Arabella as she stepped out onto the balcony. Cold night air whipped at her body, though she ignored the shiver running down her spine to approach the object of her ire with a determined glare. She clenched her gloved hands and readied herself.


    "I want to speak to you." Alistair didn''t seem to hear her. He was leaning against the railing in silence, staring out into the vast expanse surrounding the palace and not even turning to face her. He was clearly testing her patience. Arabella scowled and stomped over toward him in her heels to grab his arm, "I said-"


    "That you wanted to speak to me?" Alistair didn''t fight against her grip on his sleeve, though he did turn and Arabella was taken aback by his expression. His violet eyes barely met hers, he seemed disconnected from the situation mentally. In response to her words, he simply nodded and closed his eyes in a resigned manner. "I''m listening."


    Suddenly, Arabella felt as though she would be punching down and relinquished her grip on his sleeve with a hesitant motion. But she wasn''t one to step down. This was for Cecil''s sake. So instead, she held her ground and turned her nose up at him, "You should give up. There''s no chance of you becoming King."


    Alistair blinked once, twice and then to her surprise gave a resigned smile and rubbed a hand through his fluffy white hair, "... Well, you''re not wrong." The young prince sighed and returned to leaning against the railing while crossing his arms while Arabella stared at him speechless. That response was the last thing she had expected. Alistair''s resigned gaze suddenly became sharp and he sent a pointed look her way. "But unlike you, I at least know that I''m fighting a losing battle."


    Baffled, Arabella raised a cautious brow, "What are you insinuating...?"


    He seemed just as baffled as she was that she didn''t understand and his stare made her grow self-conscious. He grew serious, "Sticking by him is no good. You''ll just end up like me. Or worse."


    "You..." Arabella wanted to argue against him, but a pit in her stomach stopped her. She didn''t want to hear of such things but became unsure of herself. "What... What could you possibly know?"


    "No one here is on your side, even I can see that," Alistair answered bluntly.


    As much as Arabella wanted to argue, she couldn''t deny that fact. Her fierce demeanour fell and she sighed annoyed that he was right in that sense. It wasn''t a hidden fact that she was almost as much of an outcast here as he was. Defeated she threw her hands up annoyed and opted to stand by his side on the balcony, gripping the ledge and staring pointedly into the distance in silent surrender. A moment of quiet understanding passed between them, the pariahs of the ballroom. For the first time in a while, she felt an unspoken likemindedness. Arabella stared at him cautiously through the corner of her eye, "...Does that include you, too?"


    She wasn''t sure why she asked the question or what answer she was even expecting but held her breath as she waited for a response. Alistair continued to stare forward and shrugged, "I don''t wish ill on you if that''s what you''re asking."


    Arabella''s hands clenched the ledge tighter and her brows furrowed in conflict, "...Likewise." This seemed to finally catch Alistair by surprise, going against what she had initially told him. She let herself ease up for the first time in a while and took a deep breath of cold night air before nonchalantly crossing her arms. She wanted to tell him how his words had made her think, but her pride overtook her and instead, she mustered a simple, "...You''re annoying. But only because of circumstance."


    Silence. And then Alistair burst into laughter, annoying her even further. He doubled over on the ledge, grinning as he snickered at the comment until he finally calmed down with an amused smile, "Ah, such whiplash." Despite being the same age, Arabella felt very small under his gaze and could no longer make herself face him. He wasn''t at all like Cecil, but she hadn''t decided if that was a good or bad thing yet. If Alistair was Cecil''s enemy, then he would have to be hers too... Yet, she couldn''t fully bring herself to think in such away.


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    Alistair stepped away from the railing and slowly made his way back towards the ballroom, Arabella could not see his facial expression but before he left he warned with a tone of seriousness, "Be careful, Arabella Lockhart."


    That was the first and last time she spoke to the elusive Alistar Aurum de Villiers.


    <hr>


    Arabella didn''t realise the truth about Cecil until it was too late, even with Alistair''s foreboding warning. And not long after their meeting, rumours began to spread that she was having a love affair with Alistair. People must have seen them speaking alone and nobles loved nothing more than baseless gossip. The young girl thought nothing of it, staying steadfast in her faith in Cecil''s possible proposal. But she should have seen through his act. Why would royalty pursue companionship with an unpopular and controversial noble?


    Her fate was sealed when she received a letter from Cecil calling her to the palace in secrecy in the dead of night, and without thinking, Arabella followed his instructions. Unease set in her stomach from the moment she stepped foot on the grounds, heightened even further when she was escorted by a single guard to the meeting spot. But once she was left alone in the gardens and ordered to wait, what she found was not Cecil. Alistair was lying dead on the ground.


    Even now, everything after that moment flew by as a blur in Arabella''s mind. One second she had rushed to check Alistair''s cold corpse, crying for help and the next she was left in a state of shock when guards rushed the scene and arrested her on the spot. That was not the end of her misfortune.


    Cecil had denied calling her to the palace and was believed. Every letter he had sent her including the meeting letter had ''disappeared''. The single guard who had led her to the spot had also mysteriously gone missing. Furthermore, the rumours surrounding Arabella and Alistair transcended speculation, painting her as a social climber trying to use both Alistair and Cecil for her own gains. That she had poisoned Alistair after he threatened to reveal the truth. Her case was not helped by the various love letters found that had apparently been sent between them, and the vials and books on poison found in her room. Everything pointed to her being the culprit. And there was nothing that Arabella could do to prove herself innocent.


    Even with Layton and Olivia''s intervention, the rushed trial had found Arabella guilty and her execution date was set. Even though she was the centre of the mess, Arabella could not bring herself to believe it. The speed at which everything had gone so wrong was too much for her mind to comprehend and she was left in a dumbfounded state, even as she was thrown into the cell she would call home for a year. Even as she began to count down the days in dread, she still had not made the connection between Cecil and her fate. Not until he visited her, weeks into her imprisonment.


    <hr>


    "W-Who''s there..?"


    Arabella''s hoarse voice echoed around the dim cell, sore from her days of endless weeping. Reverberating footsteps put her on high alert. It was the first sound she had heard in a week, aside from the constant dripping water and rustling of chains. She forced herself to glimpse through the darkness until a familiar face came into view through the bars.


    "Your highness...!" Arabella rushed forward, stumbling to her feet and wincing at the sensation of using her legs after so long. She clenched the bars of her cell and her eyes flooded with tears of relief. Someone was here for her, after all this time. Someone was here to help her. She choked out her next words of desperation. "Y-Your highness, tell them! Tell them I''m innocent, you know I''m innocent!"


    Cecil''s expression remained calm in spite of Arabella''s frantic pleas. He studied her tear-filled expression carefully before waving a hand in dismissal to the two guards that had accompanied him, "Leave us be." Both uniformed men looked at each other in apprehension at Prince Cecil''s words. He didn''t even turn to them before folding his arms behind his back and sighing. "Let me remind you that even without a coronation, I am still your king. Follow my word as though it is Law."


    With that they scurried out of the room, leaving only her and Cecil. Arabella let her tears fall as she reached a trembling hand through the bars towards him. Her shining beacon of hope in the pitch-black darkness was a mere few inches away from her, "Cecil... You have to free me from here..." Cecil calmly took her hand in his and Arabella''s heart swelled when he stepped closer to the bars. He silently urged her to come in closer and she obliged, awaiting his next words. The words that would liberate her from her torment.


    "It seems that you are a worthless bitch until the very end."


    Arabella''s eyes widened as though they burst from her head. The sharp comment that had left Cecil''s mouth stung like a slap to the cheek... She couldn''t have heard him correctly. Her isolation had to be playing tricks on her mind. After all, he was still holding her hand so gently. Stupidly, she gawked before forcing herself to speak, "H...Huh? What do you- ah!"


    Arabella cried out in pain when her hand was abruptly squeezed in a bone-crushing grip. The pain shocked her back to alertness and she could hardly believe her eyes when she looked back at Cecil. A glint of cold amusement showed itself in his deep purple eyes and the ghost of a pleased smile graced his lips. She had never seen such an expression on his face before. It caused a shiver to run down her spine.


    "You really haven''t figured out what happened, by now?" Cecil''s usual calm tone was nowhere to be found as his voice slowly began to rise in an attempt to force back sickening laughter. His mocking tone penetrated Arabella''s willpower and he leaned in closer to cement his point. "If I still have to make it clear to you at this moment that I am the murderer you''re looking for, then you are as stupid as you look."


    Arabella could not respond. The air suddenly grew colder than she thought possible, as Cecil''s confession slowly sank like a knife into her heart. The prince huffed to mock her when he finally released her hand from his crushing grip. Arabella dropped to her knees with it. The throbbing pain in her dirty hand could not compare to the twisting dread in her stomach. She suddenly felt as though she would throw up on the spot.


    "Why..." Arabella''s voice caught in her throat. She bit her chapped lips hard and felt hot tears begin to well in her eyes and wet her cheeks. Alistair''s words flashed into her memory at that moment and she realised she already knew why. All of this so he could secure his spot as king... Instead, she sniffled, trying her best to hold back the violent sob threatening to surface. "W-Why... Why me...?"


    She turned her head away when she noticed Cecil kneel to meet her on the ground and tilt his head with a slight smirk, "What? Do you think you''re special? I could have done this to any other bumbling debutante..." He reached a hand through the bars and Arabella couldn''t even bring herself to react as she sat there frozen in shock. Cecil grabbed her chin roughly and turned her head left and right as though to inspect her face. He smiled in satisfaction. "But this expression on your face right now. This pathetic, pitiful expression..." Arabella swallowed hard, trying her best to hold back her hot tears to no avail as they began to pool around where Cecil''s fingers gripped her chin. It only caused him to grin harder. "...It makes me certain that I chose the right girl. You were a haughty bitch from the start. Breaking you down to nothing like this is better than any crown on my head."


    Cecil took in her pathetic sight with a trained eye for a long while, listening to Arabella''s wretched sobs until he grew bored and shoved her away from him. He stood, straightening his fine clothing and brushing back his straight blonde hair in a nonchalant fashion. He finally spared Arabella one more glance, revelling in how she trembled on the ground before turning on his heel. Leaving Arabella alone once more to suffer.


    <hr>


    The cruel memory ripped Arabella out of her reminiscence and right back to the present where her hands shook terribly and a cold sweat began to form on her skin. With a trembling sigh, she put down her pen and buried her face in her hands to take it all in. Just how wayward her life had become at the hands of one man. It didn''t matter how much time would pass. She would never forget the pain inflicted on her by Cecil. And she would never forgive him for it. She was never perfect, but no one deserved what happened to her. No one but Cecil...


    She picked up her pen.


    Really, all she would have to do was avoid making herself stand out in any way and make sure she never so much as spared a glance at Alistair. Rejecting Cecil''s flirtations would not be difficult with her memories of him. But deep down, surviving in such a way wouldn''t satisfy her in the slightest after experiencing firsthand, Cecil''s cruelty. He had the resources to craft false evidence and witnesses. If not her, it would be someone else. And Alistair would still be dead. Ultimately, she couldn''t just survive and let him get what he wanted. She wanted to drag him down, lower than he dragged her. He would face her wrath no matter what.


    Arabella paused, realising her gaze and grip on her pen had become so intense in her desire for revenge that the ink had begun to blot on the page. She yelped slightly in surprise and emitted a small chuckle to calm herself. She was getting ahead of herself. She could do nothing in this state. Currently, she was still as helpless as she was with the rope hanging around her neck.


    In the end, this was never really about her. She died at the expense of covering up fratricide. With her as a failsafe, Cecil hardly had to lift a finger to get away with his crime. She''s sure that her ''crime of passion'' would have been the talk of noble society for years to come. Arabella sighed, raising the pen to her lips to absentmindedly chew on the metal end. Her teeth grated the cold metal in a way that dragged her out of her doomsday mindset.


    She didn''t have many options, to begin with... But her idea was risky. Yet, it was the only way for her to drag Cecile down in the way she wanted while ensuring her own safety in the end.


    Her pen circled the paper in one confident and smooth motion. Arabella, eyed Alistair''s circled name, frowning in thought. As he was, he was never a fair contender against Cecile for the throne. Not much was even known about him even after he returned. He had been the product of the late king''s affair with a maid and after he was born, both entered the palace. Then without warning, both Alistair and his mother went missing, supposedly dying in a fire within a sectioned-off area of the palace. It went relatively unnoticed and uncommented due to neither ever appearing outside the palace, and the news of the King''s passing overshadowed it. But their mere existence was a taboo topic for the following years. They were both presumed dead, despite the lack of remains. No one even bothered to look for them. She was young when it had happened and could barely remember a thing about it.


    But, the important thing was that he was alive and most likely in hiding somewhere. And no matter how risky it would be, how impossible it seemed, she needed to find a way to meet with him.


    A 14-year-old child can''t go far by himself, and the Lockhart earldom is the closest to the capital. He wouldn''t be foolish enough to stay in the capital but he wouldn''t be bold enough to leave for the neighbouring kingdom with nothing to his name. The Lockhart Earldom would be the easiest and safest place for him to live for all that time... It also matches the time between his learning of the banquet and actually reaching the capital, it would have taken him at least a week to reach the capital anywhere else. Regardless, finding him in their earldom would be like a needle in a haystack. And even then she was using her intuition.


    But perchance, if he was in the earldom he would need some sort of income to live. Her options for finding him would be the orphanage, the docks where young boys often found work or him being an apprentice of some kind. If she searches and manages to find him, she would need to move on to her next step as getting hold of him was only the start of this battle. She would need to be able to sponsor him in some way. Help him have a headstart and advantage with what she knew about the future. She needed to make sure that even with his status, he would be able to gain enough power to be an actual threat to Cecil...


    And maybe, just maybe. Feeling indebted to her in some way, she would have a king on her side and Alistair would be able to offer protection to her and her family. Maybe he would be so thankful that he would let Arabella torture Cecil. A fitting reward. It would only take patience.


    Satisfied she tore out the pages detailing her plan for her future knowledge and crumpled up the pages in order to prevent her ramblings from being found. Just where should she start? She needed to try and make herself a more difficult target for her own protection in this plan by improving her standing and reputation. She had all the time in the world thanks to this miracle and she would be sure to savour every second of it.


    "Just wait for me, Alistair..."

 5. Night Terrors

    "If you have come here to mock me again, you will gain no more satisfaction in doing so..."


    Now 18, Arabella shivered in her ice-cold cell, trying her best to focus on the rain leaking in from the barred out-of-reach window. It was late at night, and the moon bathed the prison in a soft glow. She had come to find peace in these moments, but her constant tormentor seemed to despise the very idea of her not experiencing suffering at every waking second.


    Cecil, dressed in his fine cloaks, leaned against the bars with a self-satisfying smirk on his lips, "It will only be for this final time, surely you can endure it..." Arabella pulled her legs tighter to her chest at the grim reminder of her impending execution.  "Just allow me this final bit of frivolity before you leave me, won''t you?"


    She could already picture the cruel smile. Arabella didn''t even have it in her to cry anymore, she didn''t even flinch when his face moved closer to hers. Her dark empty eyes stayed blankly focused right ahead of her, "...Why won''t you just let me die in peace?"


    He paused, unreadable shadows hanging over his face before he scoffed. "Do I have to explain myself to the likes of you?" Cecil''s eyes dulled but his dangerous smile never left. "You''re only dying after all this time because I''m granting you mercy. You don''t cry anymore, you don''t even yell back. It used to be so interesting listening to your curses but now I''ve become bored."


    Arabella remained silent, praying that he would tire himself out soon. This was nothing new.


    "I''ve heard this already."


    Cecil didn''t seem amused, his purple eyes narrowed, but his smile remained, "Maybe so. But the point stands, that you provide no more entertainment to me." He laughed coldly. "Like a bird in a cage. All beauty and no brains." Arabella froze up in shock when he leaned in closer, she could feel his breath tickle her neck when he crouched down from behind the bars. "It''s so sad for that beauty to go to waste tomorrow. If you beg, I might consider taking you on as a mistress instead..."


    Arabella turned around on instinct her eyes staring in wide-eyed shock at the mere suggestion. He smirked at her, meeting her gaze dead-on through the prison bars. Her stomach lurched that he could even say such a thing, she felt more disgusted looking him in the eyes than she ever had before... Yet, the fact that for a split moment, for the sake of her survival, she had almost considered jumping at the offer... She wanted to tear at her own skin. Her pride was already shattered beyond repair, she didn''t think he could tear her apart any further, yet he proved her wrong. She just... Didn''t want to die. Not like this.


    His bitter laugh snapped her out of her own thoughts of dismay, Cecile simply stood back up and brushed off his luxurious cloak, a far cry from the dirty black dress that draped her own body. His smirk burned through her, "I think I would enjoy watching you be hung much more. Make sure that when the rope tightens around your neck...." He turned his back, leaving while throwing one last cruel smile over his shoulder. "...You''ll cry for me. Won''t you?"


    <hr>


    Arabella lay wide awake in the middle of the night with a dark expression in her wide eyes. The sweat that collected on her body had begun to soak into the sheets. She hadn''t expected her memories to be so vivid that they felt like nightmares. Her heart raced, and her gaze was unblinking. She could hardly breathe.


    Patience was difficult. She wanted to settle the score, tear at his face, and have him bludgeoned...


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Ah... Arabella finally sat up, panting, and rested a fist against her forehead. She was so furious. Was this how she would be living her second life? On edge and fearful?


    Before she knew it, the girl had let herself out of bed to wander the halls of her home mindlessly. Her small fingers ran along the cold-painted walls. She didn''t really know where she was going. She just wanted a change of scenery to forget everything for a moment.


    "Oh-"


    Arabella stopped in her tracks at the surprising sight before her. Her older half-sister Olivia walked in the opposite direction still dressed in her nightgown. The oil lamp in her hands dimly lit her soft features, shining against her bright blue eyes. Olivia''s owlish stare stayed cemented on her face as she stared at Arabella in confusion, "You scared me half to death. What are you doing walking around in pitch darkness like a ghost?" Arabella''s throat tightened. She hadn''t seen Olivia since she returned to the past. She hadn''t seen her face in an entire year. She used to hate her so much for nagging, but now... "You should be in bed. Turn back to-"


    Arabella hadn''t even noticed the tears begin to spill down her cheeks and her lips that had begun to tremble. She simply stared at her sister in stunned silence as Olivia''s face contorted into shock. She looked younger but not too different. Arabella always screamed at her and threw things when she tried to discipline her. If only her younger self would realise how much she would miss her family.


    As her sister silently sobbed, Olivia froze, unsure of what to do. What a strange situation she had put herself into. She was used to tantrums, not tears. Olivia paused, eyes softening as the young girl desperately wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her own robe and she sighed, hesitantly resting a gentle hand on Arabella''s shoulders. Despite the frown being solidly set on her lips, Arabella could sense the clumsy sympathy in Olivia''s eyes, "Come with me. I''ll take you back to bed."


    Arabella couldn''t do anything but nod slowly, she hadn''t expected that she would cry so much...


    <hr>


    Arabella watched her sister''s back from behind as she walked her back to her room. It was so surreal seeing her again and so suddenly that she couldn''t help but burst into uncontrollable tears. She had calmed down for now at least, she sniffled back some more tears in the silence. She frowned, annoyed that she had broken down all of a sudden, "...Sorry..."


    Olivia seemed surprised that she had spoken at all but didn''t stop in her tracks answering, "For crying?" Arabella felt too embarrassed to say anything, but Olivia took the silence as a yes anyway. Olivia sighed, pursing her lips for a moment as she thought of what to say. "...Don''t be sorry. Father''s passing has been difficult on everyone."


    "...Oh."


    In all of the drama surrounding her past life, Arabella had almost forgotten about her father. It made her feel terrible. She frowned at the ground, feeling tears threaten to fall once more.


    "Here. Don''t cause trouble for anyone by wandering around like that again."


    Arabelle peeked up and noticed she was now standing in front of her door and her lips remained fixed in its frown, "Thank you." Olivia''s shock was barely disguised through her widening eyes. Arabella looked serious before turning her head to her sister with her hand on the door. "I''m not going to cause trouble for anyone anymore. I''m not going to be as careless as I was before." Before she could shut the door, she swallowed and mustered her next sentence with heartfelt sincerity both for her sister and herself. "...I promise."


    The spark of determination in the young girl''s eyes almost made Olivia believe Arabella was someone completely different from the sister she knew. She wasn''t sure if that was a good thing. Before Olivia could comment on how strange she was acting, Arabella quickly shut the door to her room, leaving her standing dumbstruck with the oil lamp in hand.


    ...Olivia simply sighed and began to make her way to the library as she had intended.


    Their father''s death had clearly shaken Arabella, that much was obvious. But the shock of seeing her in such a vulnerable state caused Olivia''s heart to weigh heavier in her chest, forcing her out of her own head. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, Ishir Lockhart was gone and he had taken the last semblance of normalcy in this broken family with him. The realisation floored her for a moment. The small flame in her gas lamp finally flickered out when a single tear rolling down Olivia''s cheek extinguished it.


    "...Not now..." She sniffled, brows furrowing as the tears fell into the flame, leaving her lit only by the moonlight. Trying her best to cry as quietly as she could.

 6. A Sticky-fingered maid (1)

    Part of the fake evidence held against Arabella was her journal. At the time, she stared stunned as the journal she had hidden so carefully was read aloud with events she had no memory of writing. She was even more horrified to find that the writing matched hers exactly. Someone had clearly forged it to write damning evidence against her in it. So someone in the house was working for Cecil at the time and clearly, they were already here considering no new workers that she could remember were hired over that time.


    Framing her was easy. She was a non-perceptive person who wouldn''t care for small details around her. But she had made an active choice to change that this time and it had begun to pay off. At first, it was an old perfume of hers that would be far emptier than she remembered, then it was a ring that she hardly wore anymore going missing and finally... Her journal would be set back in a different position from where she left it.


    Arabelle smirked when she first noticed it. It was just as she suspected.


    Arabella smiled into the teacup she had brought to her lips. She would remember that as key information for what she had planned. But she needed to try being as subtle as possible with the most likely culprit. The red-haired maid who was occupied clumsily spritzing the flowers around the room remained blissfully unaware of her lady''s scrutinising gaze. Arabella rested her cheek on her fist.


    A fresh-faced girl of 17, she had begun working at the estate as Arabella''s second maid after she had requested it a year ago. If she remembered correctly, she was rather tough on the new recruit. She''d only been working there for a little over a year and became nothing more than a verbal outlet for her frustrations. She was beyond tough on her, compared to Aubrey who had more years of experience, the new girl paled in comparison and became a thorn in Arabella''s side when she craved perfection. So out of frustration, she had assigned her to essentially do the easier work, cleaning up after her messes... It''s no wonder all her secrets would come undone so easily.


    Arabella didn''t think of herself as someone stupid, but in hindsight, she saw herself as the biggest fool to have ever existed. Leaving a maid, who most definitely despised her, alone in her most private abode? Of course, she would snoop all she liked. It''s no wonder it was so easy for Cecil to plant evidence against her. And so convincingly too. The way the false entries were written right down to the mannerisms, language, and handwriting. It was undeniably an excellent forgery... Hmph. Just saying that evoked rage. The red-haired girl must have been snooping for some time.


    But in the end, Arabella put herself in this vulnerable position. So why not use it to her advantage? She knew the culprit, but the culprit didn''t know that. If she really wanted, the maid could be gone with the snap of her fingers but what use would that be for her?


    For the past week, Arabella had written in her diary as she would have under normal circumstances trying her best to make each entry sound typical of her 14-year-old self and placed it in the secret compartment of her drawer. With the additional routine of placing a small piece of paper on the cover. And each time she came back, it was no longer there after the maid cleaned the room. She was certain it had to be this girl... Whatever her name was.


    <hr>


    Arabella''s eyes flitted up from the textbook she was buried in as she lay on the chaise lounge. The maid had just finished making the bed that morning. She really was unaware of the information she knew right now and somehow that amused Arabella to no end, she had to hide her smirk behind her book. Before they could accidentally lock eyes, she focused on the pages in front of her once more as the maid walked over.


    "Um...Milady, would you like me to return these books if you''re finished?"


    Arabella peeked up at her visage and decided to try something. She placed the book in her hands down on the small table with the others after bookmarking the page and shook her head, "Keep them here, I''m not finished." She got herself up from the seat and walked over to the wardrobe where she followed. "I want to change for a walk, so call Aubrey."


    "Yes, Mila-"


    "But make sure you come back too, I''d like your help also."


    The maid frowned in confusion for a split moment at the new task given to her. This was never her job. But she quickly bowed her head in acknowledgement and scurried away. It didn''t take long for her to return as ordered and for both maids to join her at her large wardrobe. She absentmindedly pretended to rifle through her wardrobe as soon as the two entered the room and waited patiently for her to decide. But, it wasn''t like she actually cared about changing clothes, what she really wanted was... Aha!


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    "This dress. It came with a matching ribbon set if I remember correctly. I''d like to wear this one." She removed the flowery ensemble from its shelf, remembering it to be a birthday gift from last year on behalf of her father. She reluctantly wore it at the time to please him, believing it to be ugly, but now she looked at it with a soft warmth in her chest. It wasn''t the prettiest thing, but she appreciated her father''s effort. But she brought herself away from reminiscing with a firm head shake. Arabella turned to Aubrey, "Help me put on the dress," and with a sweet smile turned to the maid who seemed to be looking a little hot under the collar. "And you can find the ribbon set, it should be in the drawers with the others."


    The maid froze before turning around and robotically making her way to the drawers to search, a nervous ''yes, milady'' escaping her as she did so. Aubrey, as per usual, diligently got to work buttoning up the back of the dress and securing each clasp, all while Arabella kept an amused eye on the panicking young girl digging through her drawers from the reflection in the mirror. After a good five minutes of waiting, Arabella decided that enough was enough and turned to the girl, "What is taking so long?"


    The maid jumped at the sound of her voice and slowly turned, trying to calm herself, "...I-I can''t seem to find the set you''re talking about, Milady..."


    Aubrey raised a brow, "Let me look." After a minute of digging through the ribbon drawer, Aubrey''s face fell into confusion. "Strange. It''s only been opened once."


    Arabella hid her smile behind her hand in an attempt to feign deep thought. Of course, it wouldn''t be there. Before, she would never have noticed as she had no intention of wearing it, so it went unnoticed and was up for grabs for the person with the loosest fingers. The poor maid was nervous, though Arabella silently commended her for hiding it this well considering how her previous self reacted to losing things. Let''s see how much more she could take.


    "Is that right? Such a shame... That was a gift from my father..." She moved from the mirror to her jewellery drawer and slid it open, digging through the layers of her most treasured items to get to the older pieces. "I''ll just wear...Oh?" She let a few more seconds pass while the maid sweated through her clothes, before spinning around. "Aubrey, do you remember the necklace I bought last year? The sapphire pendant from the capital?"


    "Yes, Milady. Can you not find it?" Aubrey: Always quick on the uptake.


    "It seems so. I remember placing it so carefully away." She lets her eyes fall on the red-haired maid whose eyes quickly snapped to face the floor. Like a caught puppy. Again, Arabella rested her palm against her cheek and creased her brows. "This is so strange... Two things in a row? Hmmm..." Time for the final blow. She practically pranced over to her perfumes and waved her finger over each one as she smiled menacingly. She grinned as she picked up her newest one. The one she remembered buying a mere month ago. And pressed down on the nozzle. "Oh, would you look at that..." Again and again and again, she repeated the motion and met eyes with the trembling young maid. "I''m all out. Isn''t that strange?"


    How bold could she be? Older items sure, but something bought only a few weeks ago? How could she have emptied the entire bottle already? Arabella felt practically insulted, the poor girl could at least try to hide her thievery. She let the silence linger for a good while, so much so, that Aubrey seemed to be catching on. The older girl''s gaze darted from the empty bottle to the other maid trying to keep her composure and her dark brows furrowed. With all eyes on her, the nameless maid''s skin began to crawl and she fought against her own stammering voice to answer, "I-It is strange... Milady..."


    It really took everything that Arabella had in her to not laugh at the girl''s fidgeting, so having had enough, she relented and turned away to simply shrug, "Oh well. I''m sure I must have misplaced a few things. And who is to say there is any foul play involved." After glancing outside of the window, she sighed and walked over to the door. "I''ll take time on my walk to clear my mind. Aubrey, we''ve made a mess in here so please handle it." She was having way too much fun with this, so she turned to the other maid and smiled. "I''ll take you to join me."


    She was already sweating in her boots, but Arabella was having too much fun to end now. As they began to walk through the halls the girl seemed to be heavily in her thoughts and looking guilty as ever. It seemed it was time to put the nail in the coffin,


    "It''s so strange..." The maid''s face dropped and Arabella maintained her serious composure. "Aubrey seemed a little bit suspicious there, don''t you think?"


    In an instant, the panic on the girl''s face seemed to fade away in the most damning possible way. She lost her stutter almost immediately and nodded, eyes wide, "You''re right. She was, Lady Arabella."


    Arabella continued walking without a word. Bold. She couldn''t quite bring herself to be angry before, but the girls'' ease in throwing Aubrey into the line of fire without guilt rubbed her the wrong way. Through a deceivingly serene smile, she turned to the girl. "It''s good that we''re on the same page. Remind me of your name?"


    "Huh?"


    "Your name."


    "Carol, milady." She smiled, full of relief.


    Carol. Arabella''s sweet smile morphed into a smirk. She would have fun with this one.

 7. A Sticky-fingered maid (2)

    The largest study in the manor was reserved solely for the head of Lockhart, serving as a quiet place for work and an intimidating place for meetings of any kind. Its solid oak walls and furniture evoked a reminder of the honour and longevity synonymous with the family name, making it the worst place for Layton to be resting at the moment. A deep sigh left Layton''s lips as he ran a tan hand through his dark blue tresses. Another all-nighter, all for the sake of sorting out the manners of the Earldom haphazardly left behind by his father. And he wasn''t even finished yet.


    Setting down the pen after signing another form, he allowed himself a break and reclined in his father''s chair... Or rather, it was his chair now, wasn''t it... He frowned, deciding to push that thought back once more by delving back into his work until a gentle knock on the large double doors caught him off guard. He quickly cleared his throat to answer, "Ahem... Enter."


    A maid holding a tray entered the room and offered a quick bow, "Good morning, Milord. Letters have arrived."


    His face fell for a split moment at the mere thought of having to respond to requests to meet with people and leave the house more than needed, but he quickly hid it by furrowing his brow. He uttered a small thank you as the maid left the letters with him and he began digging through each. Of course, it was the usual, requests for audience and such. All piled high on the tray, awaiting his approval. He opened the drawer to set them aside with the many others but froze in his tracks at the unsent envelope haunting him within it.


    He had been withholding from sending his letter, confirming his inability to complete his final year at the academy ever since he had first heard the news of his father''s passing. It had to be done eventually. But it was as though his body physically prevented him from doing so.


    He was needed by the earldom. He was needed by his family.


    Layton''s frown deepened in thought and a heavy feeling of guilt settled in his chest. Shame from his inability to let go. He didn''t know what to do...


    He was dragged out of his thoughts by the ticking of the clock... He needed to get back to work.


    <hr>


    "Lady Arabella, tea is ready for you."


    Arabella''s bright blue eyes turned away from the piano and she had to try her best not to make her eagerness obvious. It hadn''t even been a week since she had returned to the past, and she was still adjusting. She had found that, as a result of being locked away in prison for a year with very little to eat, her relationship with food had become turbulent. It took an active effort not to gorge herself now that it was readily available and her body was no longer fighting to keep itself running. Still, the fragrant scent of the fresh cake made her salivate.


    "Thank you..." Arabella left the piano stool and followed Aubrey who took the tray and set it on the table in the centre of the room. Arabella couldn''t help the drool that began to pool in her mouth. With that, she dug in, actively focusing on pacing herself.


    As she ate, she focused her gaze on the other presence in the room. Carol stood by her diligently, waiting to pour tea when asked. She seemed to have settled since the incident 2 days ago and gained some confidence in thinking that she hadn''t been caught and had a scapegoat to boot. That much was evident, as more things were beginning to go missing. She was growing bold. Aubrey herself seemed to be catching on to this fact. Aubrey had always been the type to silently observe, making her an excellent maid who always knew Arabella''s cues. Arabella was sure that under any other circumstance Aubrey would have spoken up by now, but it seemed she was aware that her lady was up to something. A knowing look was clear in her silver eyes. A silent understanding was cemented between them.


    "I''m done with my food. Aubrey, please return the dishes." With a curtsey, Aubrey obeyed and left the room. Then it was her and Carol. She locked eyes with the red-haired girl standing across from the table with a severe expression. "Carol, I wanted to send Aubrey away to speak to you in private." Carol nodded, awaiting her next words with slight hesitance. Arabella rested her cheek in her hand and lowered her gaze dangerously. "It seems that more of my things have been going missing."


    Carol''s composure was impressive. Either that or she was truly so confident that she felt no fear. But Arabella could sense the slight quirk downwards of her lip despite the controlled smile she held on her face. Carol waited a calculated moment before speaking, "...Yes. I''ve noticed that too, milady..."


    Arabella let an uncomfortable silence settle between them. She was almost impressed with how easily lying came to the young girl. Even in this staring match, Carol had yet to flinch. She smiled, easing the atmosphere, "...Good. I knew it was not merely my imagination," Arabella stood up from her seat and walked over to the girl with crossed arms. "I had been thinking of what to do and decided that it would be best to go to my brother to investigate this issue."


    This seemed to strike some fear into Carol, her eyes widened in shock, "T-The earl...?"


    "Is there a problem?" Arabella smirked slightly.


    Carol swallowed hard before composing herself and laughing nervously, "W-Well... we already know that Aubrey is the culprit so..." She hesitated to speak for a second but ultimately pushed out her next words. "Then, if we know it is her. Then surely you should not hold an investigation. You would be wasting Earl Lockhart''s precious time-"


    "Carol..." At Arabella''s mention of her name, Carol perked up and waited for her to speak. Arabella dropped all pretences and gazed coldly at the girl. "Who are you to order anything of me?" Carol seemed to shrink into herself at the cold words, and Arabella stepped closer, glowering. "I was not making a suggestion, therefore I did not ask for your opinion. I was simply warning you of an investigation that will occur out of kindness. You share a room with her, do you not? But it seems that you''ve become too comfortable with this modicum of goodwill." With that, Arabella raised a brow in challenge. "Now. Do you take issue with the investigation?"


    Carol''s face remained calm, though her body betrayed her when Arabella took notice of how her fists clenched so tightly that they began to tremble, "...No, Milady."


    <hr>


    Carol lay awake in the dead of the night, unable to shake off her conversation with Lady Arabella that morning. She had figured that she would have to end her slight ''hobby'' eventually, but an investigation...? She shivered and sat up abruptly in her bed, being careful not to wake Aubrey who was sound asleep in the bed across the room.


    It could happen at any moment. For all she knew, Lady Arabella would have gone to the Earl that very same day and people would be waiting outside the room at that moment. Nervously, she brushed her wild red hair out of her eyes and tiptoed to the door, planting her ear on it. Once she was sure no one was there, she peeked through a gap in the door and sighed in relief. Nothing in the halls. All the other servants were sure to be fast asleep by now.


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    Carol bit her thumb hard. She had time to save herself. A few hours until everyone had to wake up and begin work that morning, so if she was careful then... Silently, she rushed to the space underneath her bed, making sure once more Aubrey was asleep and pulled out the box containing her many treasures. Ribbons, perfumes, and jewels of all kinds awaited her. It wasn''t like that brat deserved any of it, anyway. But she had no choice but to return them.


    Box in hand, she slipped through the dark manor in dead silence until she reached the familiar door. This would be the most difficult part. But she was certain that this late into the night, Arabella would be fast asleep. So she proceeded with her plan and opened the door as quietly as she could. As expected, there was not a sound within the room and she rushed to return every item as she had found them. If everything were put back in its rightful place, perhaps Arabella would drop the issue... Even if she did not, Aubrey was the main culprit anyway. With how hot-tempered the young lady was, her rage would blind her from accusing anyone else but who she thought was guilty. Arabella didn''t like admitting she was wrong.


    She sighed in relief once everything was put back. But anxiety continued to gnaw at her mind. She needed to know if Arabella had truly spoken to Earl Lockhart about the issue. If so, then any chance she had of securing a recommendation to work at a higher-ranking house would be for nothing. Her brown eyes flitted to the desk across the room and taking a deep breath, she rushed to it, opening the drawer the way she had discovered a few months ago. With a quiet click, she removed the false bottom and rushed for the journal lying in wait.


    "So it was as I thought."


    The voice caused Carol to stop dead in her tracks, journal in hand. This could not be happening. She could not even turn, praying that she had been hearing things until the voice spoke up again.


    "Don''t test my patience, Carol. Turn and face me."


    Carol swallowed hard, hands beginning to tremble and sweat collecting on her brow. But she obliged, slowly turning on her heel to face Arabella sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed with a flit of amusement in her eyes. In shock, Carol dropped the journal to the ground and called out in terror, "L-Lady Arabella...!?"


    Arabella simply placed a finger to her lips to shush her, tilting her head, "There''s no need to wake up the entire estate with your squealing. After all," She smiled and interlaced her fingers on her lap. "This is between us." Carol trembled as Arabella''s eyes flitted from the journal lying on the floor, to the removed secret panel and finally to her dressing table in which a variety of perfumes had returned. She touched her chin in thought, letting the heavy silence simmer, "So in the end, you were the thief. My brother will not be pleased to hear about this."


    Sensing danger, Carol immediately let tears fall, crying out in desperation and dropping to her knees, "N-No! That''s wrong! You see, it was Aubrey! She threatened me and forced me to do it!" Arabella raised a brow at her words. "Please, Lady Arabella, believe me!" For a split second, Arabella saw herself in the pitiful figure begging before her and it disgusted her. But she had a plan and she was going to stick to it. As the girl begged on her knees, Arabella simply stood from her seated position and made her way towards her across the carpet. Carol winced as she neared but was surprised when Arabella kneeled to her level. Carol swallowed nervously, "Will... Will you tell the Earl?"


    Arabella said nothing, deciding to let the girl sweat for a moment before smiling and tilting her head to the side, "Why should I? Are you the villain?" Carol was floored and stared in shock at the changed young girl before her. Arabella sighed theatrically. "All you wanted was to get what you''re owed, right? Clearly, you must be displeased in some way. " She smiled maliciously. "Perhaps I insulted you. Or is it my family that has insulted you? For you to steal from a grieving family... You must have been wronged in a significant way. I''m sure that other noble houses would understand in a case such as that."


    Carol bit her lip hard and Arabella smiled. It seemed she could sense what she was implying. It was no secret that the girl viewed the Lockhart estate as a stepping stool to higher pastures. Many maids and butlers had moved on from her home in the past to work at higher-ranking houses, all through letters of recommendation handed out by her father. Arabella had wracked her mind for what could have most likely been used to persuade Carol to betray the house when she was so desperate to please. Cecil was not charitable enough to offer a mere maid a sum larger than what she was already being paid generously. And it would have to have been a great amount for someone as wary as Carol to risk being caught. For a man like Cecil, there was only one thing he would offer to someone like Carol: Work within the palace.


    Arabella couldn''t bring herself to hate Carol. She was able to save face, a good liar and willing to deceive. Arabella had faked enough tears in her lifetime to see that the ones in her eyes were not real. How could Arabella hate someone who had all the traits she was trying to conjure for herself to take down Cecil? But Carol''s problem was the fact that looked out for herself first and foremost above all. She had very little fear. And if she was going to be useful to her, that would need to go.


    "You know..." Arabella began, taking Carol''s hand in her own and speaking in a slow and methodical tone. "There''s nothing that nobles love more than their precious belongings. So thieves aren''t treated well here in Aurumia." A bead of sweat rolled down Carol''s cheek as she listened. "The state of our prisons is much crueller than that of the other Kingdoms. Rats scour every part, searching for any morsel of food they can find. But of course, there is nothing. Every scrap and crumb will have been devoured by you no matter how filthy, just to provide the smallest morsel of sustenance for survival. With nothing to eat, the rats bite at your skin in your restless sleep on the stone floors and you can do nothing but accept it, too weak from malnutrition to fight. You''re lucky if you die from execution before succumbing to the bitterly cold nights or disease rampant in your desolate cell..." The haunting picture painted by the young girl floored Carol. The faded look in her eyes almost seemed melancholic but it quickly faded when she returned to a carefree smile. "...Or so I''ve heard." Finally, Arabella let go of her hand and met her gaze. "You wouldn''t want to end up like that, would you?"


    Carol was stunned into silence. Merely gaping stupidly, like a fish at the young girl who suddenly seemed more like a jaded adult than a 14-year-old child at that moment. Dumbly, she lowered her head in silent dread, "N-No, milady..."


    "But how can I trust you again after catching you acting so brazenly?" Arabella pondered aloud, tutting for effect.


    "You can trust me, milady!" Carol scrambled to answer through chattering teeth, almost sounding delirious. "This will never happen again! I assure you, I will never act so brazenly again!"


    Arabella hid her smirk behind her hand, "Then, I must take your word. Getting rid of you so rashly would be such a waste. Any great house would be lucky to have you." Arabella finally stood up and urged Carol to do the same by offering her a hand. Carol stared at the hand apprehensively before taking it. Arabella smiled in satisfaction when she did. "If nothing like this happens again, I may be able to finally let this go. If you do well as my maid, then I may even speak to my brother about it and you could be rewarded greatly. If not then... Well, I''m sure we''ve covered that extensively by now. Do you understand?"


    Carol was still dumbfounded by what had just occurred but knew when to submit. After taking deep breaths, she gave a deep curtsey and lowered her head in submission, "Of course, Lady Arabella. This will never happen again. I apologise sincerely for my impudence..."


    Arms crossed, Arabella watched as the girl robotically left the room until she was finally left alone. That was sure to have started it. Surely, Carol would now start to see that sticking by Arabella would be in her best interest. But Arabella could not be certain of that quite yet and would have to work more to cement her loyalty.


    She moved back to her desk, picked up her journal and placed it back where it belonged, making sure to leave the small slip of paper on the cover as she had before, just in case. Her blue eyes then flitted to her jewellery drawer and opened it to find an old emerald ring in the back. Arabella then moved to her bed and placed the ring methodically underneath, to look as though it had been forgotten. The perfect bait. She would see how long it would take for the ring to disappear, or if it did at all. With that, she would know if her intimidation truly worked on Carol.


    With that, Arabella collapsed back into bed.

 8. Passing Ships in the Night (1)

    "Has it only been a week...?"


    Arabella sighed to herself, staring longingly out of the carriage window at the passing scenery. Every morning that she woke up and faced her young self in the mirror made her entire situation feel less and less plausible. Part of her was waiting to wake up from a strange dream. But this was real.


    "Yes, milady. It has been exactly a week since the funeral."


    Arabella''s eyes snapped towards Aubrey who sat across from her in surprise. She had almost forgotten she had company. Aubrey was straightforward as usual, she must not have realised Arabella was speaking to herself. Arabella gave a soft nod of acknowledgement before becoming lost in her thoughts once more.


    As hopeless as it seemed, Arabella had dedicated her past few days to travelling into the earldom to speak to as many people as she could in a fruitless search for Alistair. She had convinced herself that he couldn''t be far, but the reality was making itself clear that she may have been overambitious in her initial plans. The anticipation of revenge may have overridden her logic in finding someone within the large kingdom of Aurumia; in short, it was a long shot. But she could not give up on the slight possibility Alistair was here.


    It was not long before the sights became familiar from outside the window and the trees became replaced by homes and shops of different kinds. She had moved on to searching nearer to the coast.


    The earldom was located in the east and the port was a hotspot for importing, travel, and fishing. It was the closest entry point for those from the neighbouring Kingdom, Nyotari, Aurumia''s closest and oldest ally. The Lockhart family historically controlled and protected the border, gaining titles through an old war against Nyotari in which her ancestors had aided the royal family. They were given control of the earldom in exchange. War was no longer something they had to worry about. The war happened centuries ago and ended in peace when Nyotari surrendered. It was all so long ago, but as far as she knew relations had remained amicable between Aurumia and Nyotari since. But most importantly, history gave her family control of the most famous border resulting in their firm grip on the business of importing goods through the most popular point of entry.


    Once the carriage had come to a stop in the road, Aubrey let herself out and promptly offered Arabella a hand to do the same. As soon as she stepped foot on solid ground, she took a deep breath of the salty sea air. If she had a favourite place in the world, it would have to be the coast where the people were the most active and busy. People here always moved with ease, lost in their own worlds.


    Regardless, Arabella moved on, methodically tracing her steps through town, Aubrey following behind her. Her heeled boots carried her down the cobblestone streets and entered shop after shop, making friendly conversation with the many characters in each place. If her past few days of searching had made her aware of anything, it was that her infamy extended beyond the noble circles. People had already built the idea that she was an uncontrollable, rampaging demon... Which, well, it wasn''t entirely wrong for anyone to assume that. She was never an angel, far from it. This perception of her had become clear in the unease that surrounded every place she entered. She couldn''t let that continue.


    It was burdensome to have people hesitate to relay any information to her when she walked into a room. As such, her search for Alistair served a double purpose. Improving her image among the people with some savoir-faire. So far it had been going quite smoothly but relied on a little white lie of hers.


    "Earl Lockhart sent you to check on the local businesses, you say?"


    Arabella smiled demurely at the seamstress from behind the counter. Each time she used this line, Aubrey would send her a subtle look of suspicion that did not go unnoticed. Arabella brushed a loose curl behind her ear and spoke sweetly, "Yes. My brother has been so occupied with his work that he could not find the time to do so himself. I''m simply aiding him with his obligations, I''m sure you can understand."


    The shop owner seemed cautious but slowly wrung her hands together, "Ah... Yes, of course, Milady. His Lordship must be busy."


    The same song and dance ensued. Arabella made her way around the shop inspecting the wares. The fabrics on the shelves were indeed beautiful and caught her eye, but she did not disregard how the shop seemed to be in slight disrepair. Satisfied she turned back to the young woman who hadn''t removed her uneasy gaze from her form, "Your materials are very unique. Do you have any examples of your work to show me?"


    "Well, there is an order for a gown that has not yet been collected, Milady..." As she spoke, she reached beneath the counter and pulled out a plain-looking box that failed to catch the eye. But once it opened, Arabella felt her jaw drop at the intricate detailing of the gown within. The lace, the beading, and even the sewn-in patterns were something she had not seen before. How had she never visited this store?


    And for such an expensive-looking dress to come out of an otherwise hidden away place...This was something only a noble could afford, but who would possibly know about this hole in the wall? The gown was something that stood out to her and for some reason, she had the sense that she had seen it before. The memory was faded, but something this beautiful could not be forgotten so easily. She stopped ogling the dress and looked at the dressmaker, "This is amazing work. Would you mind telling me who it was that ordered this?"


    She grew meek, frowning deeply, "I''m afraid not, Milady. I must preserve the confidentiality of my customers. I don''t have many after all..."


    With work this good, she should have people travelling from afar to wear her creations. And this mystery customer of hers intrigued Arabella. No typical noblewoman would have her gowns made by someone unknown. For nobles it was all about reputation and association, being able to name the maker and have others perk up at the mention, all rushing to be pushed up on the waiting list. This woman''s potential was not being reached. Her mind wandered back to the disrepair of the store and how the beautiful expensive fabrics stood out like a sore thumb. She smiled and turned to her, "How long ago did you open shop?"


    She seemed confused but the young woman answered promptly, "Only a couple of months back, Milady. It''s only me working here at the moment, I came here from Nyotari."


    Ah, suddenly it made sense. A foreigner wouldn''t be as knowledgeable about the most profitable places to open a dress shop. The country was most definitely not one of those places. She would have been better off in the Hawthorne march where most artisans set up shop, not the Lockhart earldom where nobles hardly set foot aside from business matters. But she wasn''t a lost cause and an idea was brewing in Arabella''s head. Arabella placed a curled finger to her chin, "Madame. You don''t make much profit here. Do you?"


    The seamstress'' brown eyes widened in surprise, "What-"


    "I have some ideas," She cut her off, smiling at her confused expression. "I think that your business could be saved, but you''re being held back. It wouldn''t be anything too difficult for you to change, either. In exchange..." She tapped her chin and grinned. "I want a list of the customers who have been ordering from you until now."


    It seemed like something inconsequential, but the more Arabella thought about it, this mystery shopper raised questions. Whoever they were, they had uncovered a hidden gem and were keeping it to themselves. Furthermore, the itch in her brain on where she had seen this gown was knawing at her from within.


    The woman stared silently, trying to gauge where the young girl was aiming at. Ultimately, the seamstress stared apologetically, "Milady, pardon me for being rude. But, as much as I appreciate your help... I think I would prefer to wait until his Lordship is available until I make any changes." Arabella felt her eye twitch in irritation, forgetting the fact that she was indeed in the body of her 14-year-old self at the moment. It would be insane to take financial advice from a child. "You see, I''ve already applied for a loan and am waiting for a response. So I''m certain it won''t be long before my business makes money..!"


    She seemed excited, but Arabella sighed quietly at her naivety. Arabella crossed her arms, raising a brow, "You''ll be long put out of business before you can be approved for any kind of loan." Aubrey''s eyes widened at Arabella''s blunt attitude, regardless Arabella continued in her scolding tone. "Not only are you young, but you''re opening a dress shop in the country, among the countless plethora of dress shops out there. You barely have a loyal customer base and you''re foreign. As you are, no one would lend you anything. Even so, you would end up drowning in debt."


    It seemed the young woman had come to Aurumia with nothing but a dream and most likely some cash to splash on expensive materials. The hit of reality seemed to shake her from within and the seamstress began to sweat, realising that Arabella''s words held some truth. She must have been the first to tell her this.


    Arabella continued, "Frankly, I was not lying when I said I saw potential in your work. But you aren''t the only tailor in Aurumia." Sensing that she was shaken enough, Arabella shrugged and slowly began to walk away and spoke with an exaggerated drawl. "I suppose that''s all then... I''ll take my leave-"


    "Ah, wait! Milady!" The rushed cry made her spin around on the spot with a knowing smile. The young seamstress had reached out from over the counter with her brows upturned. Arabella walked back and tilted her head in a motion as if to say ''what is it?''. In response the shop owner mulled over her thoughts, debating with herself until she finally gave in and reached for a piece of paper and pen. It took her less than a moment of scribbling until she thrust the paper in her direction. "Here. I don''t have many customers, but these are the ones who have ordered from me consistently."


    Arabella stared at the piece of paper being offered to her before gently taking it and inspecting the list with a careful eye. She wasn''t lying when she said she didn''t have many customers, there were only 4 people named. But one name caused her eyes to widen in shock. Suddenly, this whole thing had been worth every moment. This woman must not have been aware of what a renowned client she had been serving... Smiling Arabella carefully folded the list away and put it into her dress pocket for later.


    "Now, please," The seamstress looked towards her desperately, admitting defeat. "I''m struggling to stay afloat, that is true. Please... give me some advice."


    With a satisfied smile, Arabella put all her attention on her once more, "First and foremost... " She quickly took out the folded list and pointed towards it. "Of your loyal customers, only one of them is noble. So why is it that your only materials are things that only nobles could afford." She placed the folded paper back into her pocket and gestured to the shop window where the view was not even of the main street. "This is the country. If you want to sell only to nobles then move to the capital. In your situation, wouldn''t it make more sense to aim for the locals with simpler and cheaper designs? What you should be doing is matching your supplies to your clientele. The majority of your budget should leave little space for luxurious silks until you gain customers that can afford such silks."


    The woman winced at her honesty, realising that she was right, "Indeed... "


    Arabella nodded in agreement, "Though it''s commendable that you even managed to attract nobility with how disguised this place is... A testament to your handiwork, I assume." Arabella let her eyes fall on the gown again and reached to inspect it, she let the fabric run through her fingers. Even discounting the material used, the dress was made with amazing technique. The stitching is subtle, yet solid. She had known a fair share of dressmakers, but this woman had a skilled hand for sure. "Your talent isn''t something that can be hidden by even the shabbiest of fabrics. So you should be able to attract more customers based on your skill alone. Establish your own brand that way. Create a sign that stands out, improve the look of your store, and use a signature on your clothing and packaging. Anything to distinguish yourself from others. That way, you''ll be memorised much easier."


    The woman stood still for a moment, soaking in Arabella''s words with her brows knitted together in thought. Finally, she sighed and relented a small smile of gratitude, "Milady, I am thankful for your advice. I will take it into consideration immediately!"


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    Arabella smiled and bowed in acknowledgement, about to leave until she suddenly remembered the aim of her outing, "Oh, one more thing...!" It had completely slipped her mind with the debacle surrounding the gown and she silently berated herself for almost leaving without asking. "You see, I am also searching for someone..."


    The seamstress looked apologetic, "Ah, I have not been here for long, Milady... Not to mention most of my time has been spent in my store..."


    "Even so, I implore you to scour your memory," Arabella urged. "I''m looking for a boy. Around my age with white hair and violet eyes."


    The seamstress squinted ever so slightly. White hair was a rarity in Aurumia, however, it was less so in Nyotari. Though Arabella had never seen the late king, in portraits he shared the same blonde as Prince Cecil. So, Alistair''s white hair had to be inherited from his mother. However, the combination of his jewel-like violet eyes which were a staple of the Aurumian royals made him stand out even more. Arabella waited with bated breath as the seamstress dug through her memories.


    Suddenly, the woman''s eyes perked up, "I''m unsure if this will be helpful, Milady, but recently I returned to Nyotari briefly about a week ago. There was a commotion back in my hometown near the docks. I didn''t see it, but others mentioned a boy that matched that description..."


    Arabella''s eyes widened in surprise. This was the first slight lead she had received. Even if it was a dead end, she felt her entire body become energised with excitement at the mere prospect of getting closer to her goals. Nyotari... So she was wrong, to begin with. But God must have been smiling down on her to have sent her this lead to correct her path.


    Aubrey sent a confused look Arabella''s way, after a moment too long of stunned silence which was enough to drag Arabella out of her exhilarated state. She took a deep breath, evening out her tone and hiding her hands shaking in excitement. Finally, Arabella composed herself and smiled at the seamstress,


    "That will be all then. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavour."


    <hr>


    After exiting the shop, Arabella walked in completely focused silence back to the carriage with Aubrey following behind. In her hands was the list given to her by the seamstress which she couldn''t tear her gaze away from. Specifically, her squinted eyes remained glued to the name at the bottom. It was only a forename, unlike all the others, but with her memories, it wasn''t difficult to figure out who it was.


    ''Yvette''


    In other words, Yvette Salvatore: The eldest daughter of the Salvator Duchy and the girl that Cecil had actually intended to marry from the beginning. Their engagement was announced not long into Arabella''s imprisonment, though even to her love-sick younger self, it was no surprise. She had always deluded herself into thinking that Cecil truly loved her alone, but the reality was Yvette would always be the final choice. She was the type of woman to have eyes turn on her when she entered a room, able to hush all chatter with a flick of her candy-coloured locks, the centre of all conversation and a true trendsetter. The gown that she had just seen stuck out because it was Yvette''s.


    Arabella was being opportunistic, she wouldn''t deny that fact. At that realisation, she let out an airy bitter laugh at her own expense. But she would follow that information at a later time. The setting sun signalled that it was time for her to return home but her aching feet said otherwise. Spotting a bench overlooking the port, Arabella gave a large stretch and groaned towards Aubrey, "Hey, let us take a break."


    Aubrey didn''t object, as usual, and simply followed. Arabella sprawled herself on the bench with a sigh of satisfaction from finally getting off her feet. The sounds of the ocean lulled her muscles into a relaxed state. With the beautiful view of the setting sun sinking into the water''s horizon, Arabella could already feel the hectic day fading into the past and nothing could bother her. Her eyes flitted from the sunset to Aubrey who had remained standing beside her, with perfect posture. A frown tugged at Arabella''s lips, "When I said rest, I meant the both of us, Aubrey. I''m not evil."


    Aubrey''s silver eyes widened a sliver but returned to their perpetual half-lidded state in less than a second, "...That would be improper of me, Milady."


    "But I told you to rest. So shouldn''t you do as I say?" Aubrey couldn''t argue with that. Yet, when she took a hesitant seat beside her, Arabella couldn''t help but feel like that came off more like a bratty order. Well, it got the job done. Aubrey had always been so stiff. Her eyes wandered to Aubrey who sat straight as a board. A thought had been mulling in the back of her mind that she needed to let out, "Do you think anything of me asking about a boy all day?"


    Aubrey''s silver eyes flitted from staring straight ahead to meeting Arabella''s pointed gaze, "...Not particularly, Milady."


    A sly smile crossed Arabella''s lips, "Good. I like you, Aubrey," She crossed her arms and leaned back into the bench. "You don''t ask questions."


    "I am not paid to ask questions, Milady." Aubrey''s monotone words came out with a hint of snark. It caused Arabella to snort in amusement at having picked it up.


    Arabella smiled and rested her chin in her palm in thought, an idea brewing in her mind. She and Aubrey were not friends, how could they be when Arabella essentially controlled her paycheck? There is no such thing as friendship with your boss. But, even so, they had been together for a long time, since Arabella was 10. As much as Aubrey knew her, Arabella had come to know Aubrey in turn: From her mannerisms as slight as they may be to the order in which she preferred to do her routine. Aubrey was insanely perceptive and even if she would never be ''loyal'' to her, it was a skill that Arabella could benefit from. They weren''t friends after all, so wouldn''t it make sense to approach this as an employer? Her smile never faltered as she turned to face Aubrey, "What if you were?" Aubrey perked up but subtly squinted in a mixture of confusion and suspicion. Arabella continued. "I mean, what if I paid you to ask questions? Not necessarily to me per se... rather for me."


    Aubrey surprisingly enough seemed to catch on and her eyes returned to being half-lidded. After a moment of contemplation, she folded her hand in her lap and spoke with caution, "...I see... Milady, if I were to agree to this... May I speak my mind?"


    "I don''t see why not," Arabella shrugged, though she slowly grew curious. "If you''re doing me this favour, then I can grant you that much."


    "What I mean is, Milady...Do you swear that there will be no repercussions if I ask questions of my own in exchange," Aubrey spoke eagerly, as though she was itching for an answer.


    Arabella had not expected this and was left staring with raised brows. Was this the most emotion she had seen Aubrey express? Possibly. "...I swear."


    "Lady Arabella, you''ve been acting strange," Aubrey rushed straight to the point, her blunt attitude shocking Arabella. "I know it is not my place to say, but it is almost as though you are a different person altogether."


    Maybe Aubrey was more perceptive than she thought. Arabella felt a bead of nervous sweat collect on her brow as she forced a smile, "I''m growing, Aubrey. You can''t expect me to stay a child forever, can you?"


    "Even so..." Aubrey pursed her pink lips and paused, mulling over her next words carefully. "The way you act, Lady Arabella. Even other ladies your age don''t peruse such advanced books, not to mention you had previously shown a strong distaste for education in general to the detriment of your poor tutors. And that isn''t even mentioning the Carol incident," Aubrey''s emphasis instantly let Arabella know the gig was up. She smiled incredulously as Aubrey finished. "I said nothing when I noticed your scheming. But, scheming is very unlike you in the first place, Lady Arabella. And whatever you did to that girl, somehow made her meek... And everything returned too. What did you do to Carol? What was it that made you change?"


    Aubrey''s eyes widened at the end of her rant and she quickly placed her fingers over her lips in the realisation of her words. She bowed her head slightly, "I apologise for my impertinence, Milady..."


    "I did say you could speak your mind without consequence, so lift your head," Arabella''s hand waved away Aubrey''s apology and the woman composed herself, returning to normal but waiting in anticipation for Arabella''s response. It wasn''t like Arabella could just tell Aubrey that she died and returned to the past and really she was 18 years old inside. Not necessarily for the absurdity of it, but the fact that she couldn''t fully trust Aubrey just yet. Just because she didn''t suspect her of taking part in her untimely demise, didn''t make Aubrey an ally. Again, they were employee and employer, not friends. She huffed and rested her cheek in her fist, "...Aubrey before I can answer that. You knew about Carol''s thievery for a long time, didn''t you?" Aubrey''s shifting eyes were the answer she needed. Arabella smiled, amused. "I thought so. If you could notice that, surely you know that I couldn''t care less about some pieces of jewellery going missing. What I care about isn''t a perfume I never wear being drained by a sticky-fingered maid..." The shine in Arabella''s blue eyes darkened to a dangerous glint as she clenched her fist, causing a shiver to run down Aubrey''s spine. "What I care about... Is what that sticky-fingered maid can go on to do without appropriate supervision..."


    It did not go unnoticed by Aubrey that Arabella had avoided answering her questions with full clarity, but she opted not to pursue the issue. Instead, she focused on the cold look in the young girl''s eyes and swallowed nervously, sensing that her words also acted as a warning. Aubrey simply nodded with caution, "I see, Milady..." Her gaze grew softer. "So long as you are not putting yourself in a dangerous position, what you plan is none of my concern."


    The sliver of empathy in Aubrey''s tone suddenly caught Arabella off guard, she frowned hard in an attempt to disguise her touched expression. A cough left Arabella''s lips, moving right along to the next order of business to distract herself. She dismissively waved her hand in an attempt to lighten the mood, "...Anyway, back to my original enquiry. I''m sure you''ve asked enough questions," She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the object she had been saving for this. In a swift moment, Arabella grabbed Aubrey''s hand and placed it in the centre of her palm.


    Aubrey''s eyes widened in recognition at the emerald ring resting in her palm and she looked at Arabella in confusion, "This had been under your bed for some time now. I presume it was part of another scheme?"


    "It was,'' Arabella started, combing back her hair in a confident motion. "But this morning, I found it on my desk instead." Aubrey nodded understanding the situation as expected. Arabella had made sure to leave the task of cleaning her room solely to Carol since the incident. It didn''t take long for it to be removed from its original position under the bed, making her assume her harrowing threat hadn''t quite stricken Carol with enough fear. But instead, she found it resting on her bedside table as though making a statement. Needless to say, Arabella was quite pleased with the development. She smiled at Aubrey, "The ring has served its purpose, so consider it a complementary gift and assignment on my behalf."


    Aubrey''s eyes glimmered at the expensive jewel lying in her palm, entrancing her with its shine but upon taking in Arabella''s words, she raised a brow, "Assignment...?"


    Arabella shook her head and brushed back a loose curl that had fallen into her line of sight from the strengthening ocean breeze, "Nevermind that for now. We''ll discuss that later. " She stood up from the bench and stretched wide, feeling her back crack much to her pleasure. A satisfied smile made its way onto her face as she watched the open sea and setting sun. Her eyes perked up on the horizon, noticing a merchant ship approaching from far off in the distance. It seemed to be a Lockhart ship returning with goods from Nyotari. A melancholic smile made its way to her lips; it was probably the last ship sent out by her father before he died... In a roundabout way, it was sort of like a sign from him. She wouldn''t allow herself to lose all of this under the thumb of Cecil. Never again.


    Brushing the thought from her head, Arabella gestured for Aubrey to follow her, "Let''s fetch the carriage. Any longer out here and it will be dark."


    <hr>


    "Boy!"


    The young frizzy-haired deckhand, looked up, frustrated and exhausted as he finished his work cleaning the deck of the ship. Internally he groaned as he noticed the surly cook approach him with a tray in hand and a cigar hanging from his lips. He put down the mop, "Yes sir!"


    "Take this down to the stowaway. Quick, before we reach land."


    Before he could even respond, the cook had placed the tray in his hands. He gulped, grimacing at the job that had been tossed on to him daily by that lazy cook. But it wasn''t like he could object anyway, he was only a deckhand... Reluctantly, he carried the tray down with him, wobbling on the steps to the lower floor of the ship. Past the drunken sailors who really should have been on duty and finally to the door holding their little stowaway. He shivered as he reached for the handle. There was something unsettling about the kid they had taken in. He was too calm for his situation and it freaked the deckhand out. He swallowed his nerves and opened the creaking door.


    "Good morning! Or is it afternoon?" The white-haired boy sat comfortably from his position on the floor and greeted the deckhand as usual with his jovial smile. "I wouldn''t know you see, I''ve been trapped in this dark room for days... Perhaps good evening?"


    God, he was a weird kid. The deckhand only raised a brow, sliding the tray over the kid who could not be a day over 14. He hesitated to respond but eventually gave in as he always did with the kid, "...It''s late afternoon actually..."


    "Then good afternoon," The boy started, reaching for the tray and taking a chunk out of the bread offered to him. Wiping crumbs from his lips, his violet eyes met the deckhand with a serious gaze. "Are we close to land?"


    The deckhand rubbed the back of his head and sighed, "Yeah. Probably in a little under an hour. But you..." He pointed an accusatory finger and raised a brow. "You''re not going anywhere. I already told you, stowaways are to be dealt with by the law so you''ll still be locked up in here. First Earl Lockhart is going to assess the situation and it''s likely you''ll be tossed in prison. I hear Layton Lockhart is not as forgiving as the previous Earl. Your timing for this stunt had to be the worst possible..."


    "Hah. it''s not like I had much of a choice regarding the timing of this..." The boy sighed, though it was evident he still wasn''t too bothered by his predicament. His curly white hair flopped to the side with him as he tilted his head and grinned. "But so long as I can meet Layton Lockhart then I guess it isn''t such a loss."


    Disbelief crossed the deckhand''s features at the boy''s nonchalance, "Can''t you hear? You''re meeting him to arrested-" He stopped himself and groaned. It always ended up like this when he came down to feed the little stowaway.  It was like he couldn''t be convinced of anything, just trapped in his own little word with nary a thought behind those unusual violet eyes. How much bravado could this kid have? It was almost like he wanted to get caught. He sighed, "Did you even plan this stunt of yours-"


    "Not at all," His lips pulled into a calm smile though his violet eyes held a confident fire behind them. Before he continued, he leaned forward and smirked. "I don''t need anything else. As long as I can meet her, then I''m fine."

 9. Passing Ships in the Night (2)

    Arabella shrugged off her cloak with a heavy sigh upon entering the doors to the manor, stretching with a grunt of satisfaction as she handed off the article to Aubrey. The daily bumpy carriage rides were taking their toll now, as evident by the ache in her spine. It was only the two of them in the foyer, having reached home just in time before the sun had fully set. Her day had been the most productive one yet, so she owed it to herself to take a break. For the next two days, she could move on, but all she wanted now was to relax.


    The sound of heels clicking on the marble floor brought Arabella''s gaze towards the large steps where she spotted Olivia making her way towards her with a curious look, "You''re back! Did you go shopping...?" Olivia''s blue eyes travelled to Aubrey, noting the lack of bags or boxes before humming in realisation. "..Or not. Did you go into town?"


    "Yes. I just needed a change of scenery." Arabella responded briefly, not pausing her attempts to return to her room. She avoided eye contact, painfully reminded of the fact that she burst into tears like a child the last time they spoke to each other. Though Olivia didn''t seem to pay mind to the fact her sister was not in the mood for conversation.


    "It''s not often that you leave the estate and so frequently, " Olivia finished her descent from the stairs with a large smile and a slight skip in her step. "It''s good that you''ve had a change of heart. Getting fresh air and stretching your legs is medicine for the soul. Especially when you have good company... This manor can be so stifling at times."


    Arabella watched her sister''s smile for a long while in silence, until Olivia began to laugh nervously under the pressure of her lingering gaze. Finally, she squinted, "...What do you want? Out with it."


    Olivia relented, laughing slightly at her own expense having been caught, "...Alright. I did come here with a motive." Arabella raised her brow once more, in a signal to continue and Olivia obliged with a warm smile. "I was hoping you would want to join me tomorrow on a trip into the square."


    Olivia looked hopeful, eyes widening the slightest bit as Arabella held back a frown. This wasn''t something they had ever done before. And she had told promised herself she would rest. But Olivia seemed so eager... This was outside of Arabella''s comfort zone. She was used to everyone going their own ways, but perhaps things had gone this way because her exposing her tears appealed to Olivia''s motherly side. What was the point of returning to the past if she wouldn''t take the opportunity to change things? It wasn''t like she was happy, being so distant with her siblings. That''s just the way things had always been.


    Taking a deep breath, Arabella smiled slightly, "...I don''t mind." Olivia tried to hide her enthusiastic surprise to no avail. "After all, I was planning on buying new pieces to learn anyway."


    With a pleased grin, Olivia clapped her hands together in excitement, "Perfect! You''ll have fun, I promise."


    With that she pranced away to her next objective, Arabella stared as she did so before sighing. it looked like her days of relaxation would have to wait.


    <hr>


    Olivia sat tight in her seat, all smiles, "Isn''t this nice?"


    Arabella hadn''t expected the carriage ride into town to be for three people rather than two. The current makeup being Olivia seated next to a preoccupied Layton who had his eyes glued to the window and arms firmly crossed over his chest. He was either very preoccupied with the outside scenery or avoiding them. Specifically his youngest sister. Olivia was always the easiest to interact with, but Arabella and Layton were almost too similar to actually get along. They clashed too much. Though, even if he was silent she couldn''t deny she felt happy to see him again.


    As she sat in silence, she thought to herself almost stunned. Was this really how it was between her and Layton? She knew they never got along, and hardly spoke but she didn''t think he would straight up ignore her. Or rather this was the status quo, wasn''t it? She just had whiplash from how she remembered his passionate defence of her honour.


    Sensing the dimming atmosphere Olivia spoke up smiling awkwardly, "....Layton, are you sure you can''t join us?"


    "I already agreed to travel here with you, didn''t I?" He answered in a straightforward tone, that if they didn''t know him well enough, would have come off as rude. "I''m here on business, and it would be inconvenient to tire out 2 horses when we''re making the same journey."


    "But..." Olivia withheld a frown and forced herself to perk up. "Can''t you delay for a while? I just thought that if we''re all here together, we could maybe spend some time-"


    "If there is work to be done, we should let him be. It''s clearly important." Arabella shrugged, feeling a little awkward for speaking up after so long.


    Olivia''s brows furrowed slightly, though Layton seemed to relax a little at Arabella''s defence, if not the slightest bit surprised that she spoke up at all. Olivia sighed, not one to make her grievances known and sat back slightly with a slight pout, "Then I suppose we''ll just have to keep ourselves busy then, won''t we..." She shook away whatever she was thinking before returning to her usual expression and turning to Layton. "Be sure to treat the stowaway with some compassion then, brother. I overheard that he was young."


    Arabella sat up slightly at that mention. A stowaway? On a Lockhart Ship? Bizarre but very bold. Anyone would know one of their ships by appearance alone, if it were her she would attempt to do so with a much less prominent ship. Knowing her brother though, there would be no use in talking your way out of that situation.


    "I''m not in the mood for compassion, let alone for a boy I do not know," Layton spoke bluntly but earnestly. "The law is the law. Breaking the law makes you a criminal. What example would I be setting, letting him go?"


    At his words, Arabella suddenly found herself reminiscing back to her brother defending her when there was no evidence at all to prove her innocent. He insisted she was not a criminal. For someone so hellbent on following the rules and needing proof, it seems even his judgment can be clouded. She huffed but smiled in amusement. That poor stowaway would not receive the same benefit of the doubt.


    <hr>


    "How about this one?"


    "I''ve already learnt it."


    "And this piece?"


    "I have it practically memorised."


    Surrounded by all kinds of sheet music in the store, both girls tilted their heads in unison with their eyes fixed on the shelves. Arabella had failed to realise that going back in time would consequently amount to a plethora of unwritten compositions that would be out of her reach for years to come. And even if she had their music memorised to muscle memory, she had no intention of stealing the work of such brilliant artists to call her own should someone overhear her.


    With a resigned sigh, Arabella placed the music back on the shelf.  At the gesture, Olivia followed suit and did the same with the songbook she was perusing, opting instead to turn to her younger sister with a curious smile, "I often hear you practice in the parlour, but I did not know you were so... thorough with your studies, Arabella." She tapped her finger absentmindedly on the shelf. "I remember my governess badgering me to learn the violin."


    Arabella scoffed lightly, "Yes, I remember you did scare her away when you finally succumbed to her requests..."


    Arabella quickly bit her tongue. Was that comment too harsh? Things had been going fairly well until then and... It would be a shame to ruin it like she always did. But Olivia''s snort of amusement relieved her worries and she allowed herself to join in, covering her mouth to disguise her quiet chuckle.


    Olivia beamed wide from ear to ear, "I was terrible, wasn''t I? You were the only one to admit it right to my face. I threw such a fit after that." She shook her head at the memory. "Father and Layton were too scared of hurting my feelings, but I needed to hear it. If not I wouldn''t have discovered my talent for painting instead."


    Arabella winced slightly, averting her gaze, "...I could have been kinder about it..." Sucking up her pride, she sighed and finally turned to her sister. "I''ve decided to at least try that approach from now on. I doubt it is working, though."


    Olivia laughed softly, a smile resting on her lips. Arabella nearly jumped when she felt a comforting hand rest on her shoulder. Her older sister grinned but said nothing and somehow her silent encouragement was more embarrassing than any words that could have been uttered. Arabella could almost forget that right now Olivia was only 16. She so often made their 2-year age gap feel more like 10.


    A silence settled between the two of them, much to Arabella''s confusion which was only amplified when she noticed Olivia''s expression dampen. Olivia sighed deeply before spinning her body fully to face Arabella, "Sister... Swear that you won''t let Layton know I''ve told you this. For that matter, he should not know that I know of this at all."


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    Arabella blinked owlishly but finally squinted in confusion after a moment of comprehension, "...Uh, yes. Of course..."


    With her stare remaining unblinking, Olivia reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out an envelope. Arabella let her eyes scan the writing and squinted upon spotting its address, "It''s a letter to the academy." It came out more matter-of-fact than she had intended. She raised a brow at Olivia who seemed deathly serious.


    "Yes. From Layton," Olivia gently placed the letter back into her cloak and frowned deeply. "He has yet to send it. I found it in fa- Layton''s study. What else could he possibly be writing to them about with this timing but to drop out of his final year?"


    That did happen if Arabella remembered correctly. It was a given after all, how else would he act as Earl if he was away in the capital for extended periods of time? Therefore, she had not thought much of it at the time. Had Olivia not come to the same conclusion? "...Well, I thought that was inevitable, wasn''t it..."


    "But..." Olivia choked on her words, with an uneasy grimace. She sighed in frustration and took out the letter once more to frown at it. "I... can''t allow that. How is this fair?" She thought hard for a moment before finally speaking up with knitted brows. "This is because I expressed my own interest to attend the academy. If I weren''t in the middle of my first year then someone would be home to take care of affairs... He would have gone."


    Despite herself, Arabella placed a hand atop her sister''s and furrowed her own brows, "You don''t know that. How do you even know that this isn''t what Layton wants?"


    "Because he would have sent it by now if that''s what he truly wanted..." Her eyebrows lowered. "So, I thought that I would confront him and... threaten to drop out myself if he fails to be reasonable."


    Now, this didn''t happen before. Arabella squinted, "...I think you are the one who is failing to be reasonable."


    "I know, I know..." Olivia''s wall of bravado crumbled in an instant and she pressed a fist to her forehead, biting her lip. "I know I don''t dare to do such a thing. He wouldn''t listen to me anyway, you know how he is."


    "It is just like you to pass up an opportunity to the benefit of someone else, it is ridiculous..." As much as things seemed as though they would change it seemed inevitable, the outcome would remain the same. Though Olivia''s empathy was welcome as much as it was baffling. "Please do not throw yours away so recklessly." She paused before squinting. "And make sure to return that letter before he finds out."


    Olivia huffed but couldn''t prevent an uneasy smile, "...Of course."


    <hr>


    It was noisy down by docks, with people bustling around and chatter permeating even the sounds of the ocean hitting the ships. Layton felt a twitch in his brow that he disguised well with a subtle turn of the head as the captain finished counting the inventory aloud. Layton had already done the maths in his head, everything was accounted for and he just wanted this to be over so he could return home.


    "I''ve seen enough," at the sound of Layton''s exasperated voice, the captain turned and finally ceased his counting to face him. Layton tried his best to sound somewhat diplomatic and cleared his throat. "I trust that everything is here. So why don''t we handle that... other matter."


    The captain, an older man with a snow white beard took a second to compute but finally caught on, opening his mouth in realisation and nodding, "Of course, Milord. I apologise deeply for even allowing such a thing to happen at all, finding a child on board was the last thing we had expected. But I assure you the issue was handled swiftly." He turned to face a freckled boy, occupied with lifting cargo. "Boy!"


    Jumping slightly, the brunette turned with wide eyes, "Yes, captain!"


    He ran over to the two and the captain nodded over to the ship entrance, "Show Earl Lockhart here where the stowaway is being kept."


    Layton eyed the boy and said nothing as he followed him onto the ship. It was frustrating having to deal with nuisances and in this business what bigger nuisance could there be than a stowaway? He was reminded of Olivia''s request to treat the stowaway with compassion and shook his head to himself. Regardless of age, the law was broken. It was bad enough that he was taking over his father''s role so young, but no one would come to respect him if he showed too much leniency. He was an Earl now.


    Finally, they came to a stop in front of a solid wood door at the bottom floor. As the deckhand began to unlock the door with a key, he turned to Layton, "He''s been locked here for the past few days and I''ve been taking care of him here too."


    "Does he have a name?" Layton reached for the door handle, readying himself.


    "None that I know of, Milord."


    With a steeled gaze, Layton reached forward and pushed open the door in one swift motion. He waited a moment after glancing around. Then he turned to the boy with a raised brow, "No one is here."


    "Huh?" The boy''s eyes widened in surprise and he edged past Layton to enter the room. Indeed it was empty, not that there were many places to hide at all. There wasn''t even a window, considering the room was at the bottom of the ship. His mouth gaped as he scanned underneath the table and behind the empty cargo box used as a makeshift seat. "Milord, I-I swear he was here less than an hour ago! The room was locked, I checked!"


    Layton''s emerald green eyes narrowed. Strange. Without a word, he finally crossed the threshold into the room and stood firmly in the middle, leaving the door wide open. As the deckhand frantically looked under the clearly empty table repeatedly in panic, Layton thought deeply about how to proceed only for the sound of a quiet squeaking floorboard from behind to grab his attention. In a split second, he turned around and was met with wide violet eyes staring right back in shock. Before he could react, the white haired boy gave a nervous grin and sprinted out from his spot behind the door.


    "Wait!" Layton''s yell came a second too late as the door slammed shut on the boy''s way out. The deckhand finally seemed to have noticed and turned around at the sound of Layton''s cry. Without a moment''s hesitation, Layton rushed to the door and pulled at the handle only for it to remain firmly planted on the spot. He took a deep breath to compose himself before turning to the deckhand with a sharp stare. "Did you leave the key... in the door?."


    The deckhand''s guilty expression said all he needed to know and it took everything Layton had to stop himself from sighing in frustration. Instead, he slammed his fists against the wooden door, in the hope that someone would hear by some miracle.


    "Sorry about this Earl Lockhart, it isn''t personal!"


    His eyes widened at the young voice on the other side and his brows furrowed upon the sound of footsteps fading away at a rapid pace. This was not what he needed. Not today. With his anger reaching its boiling point, Layton rushed the door and let out a furious yell that echoed even outside the depths of the ship and terrified the young deckhand behind him.


    "Come back at once! CRIMINAL!"


    <hr>


    Upon exiting the music store, Arabella and Olivia found themselves at a standstill standing in the centre of the square, their conversation being cut short by the growing commotion in the streets. Arabella''s eyes squinted as she surveyed the surrounding area, "There are more police on patrol than usual."


    Olivia''s bright blue eyes flickered around the area, but she simply smiled and shook her head softly, "I''m sure it''s nothing. I''m with you, so there is no need to worry." Her attention immediately shifted to a hat stall across the street and her face lit up. "Oh! Arabella come here!"


    Arabella watched with unease as Olivia picked up her skirts to cross the street and immediately started inspecting the plethora of hats at the stall. She didn''t bother following, feeling watched. The police didn''t put her at ease at all; they hadn''t been the kindest to her when she was arrested for Alistair''s murder in the past. Suddenly, she was overcome with the urge to return to the safety of the estate.


    Just as she was about to cross the street to her sister, Arabella froze on the spot. A sharp shock ran down her spine. Was she seeing things? Her brows furrowed and her blue eyes narrowed as she turned to the dark alley a few meters away. It was as though she had been put under a trance as Arabella found herself slipping away towards the alley with an unblinking stare. Her mindless march took her deeper within the narrow walls as a familiar fluff of white disappeared around the corner.


    <hr>


    "Arabella what do you think of this one? I have gloves in a similar colour!" Olivia grinned, holding the soft pink hat in her hands, letting the velvet ribbon travel between her fingertips. With a bounce, she placed it gently upon her head, taking care not to mess her hair and spun around. "What...do you say...?" Olivia''s voice tapered off as she noticed the lack of dark auburn hair beside her. Her eyes darted to either side of her and upon being met with nothing, frowned deeply in concern as she stood alone among a sea of people. "Arabella?"


    <hr>


    Arabella found herself holding tight to her skirts as she made her best attempt to run through the winding alleys, her heeled boots clicking against the cobblestone. That brief white fluff that she spotted in the corner of her eye could have been anything. A bird maybe, a piece of paper fluttering in the wind? Even so, Arabella''s heart was set on the smallest possibility that it was the prince she was searching for so desperately. It had to be him.


    Her heart picked up its pace as sweat began to collect on her brow, her heavy clothing not helping her search. But it began to feel aimless. Regardless, she would not stop running, even as her feet begged her to stop. Not until she found out if Alistair was really here. Not until she had some kind of closure.


    "Ah-"


    A firm grip on her wrist ground Arabella to a halt, letting out a yelp of surprise as she was jolted out of her thoughts. Finally, she turned to the source of the hand keeping her anchored. Her eyes widened.


    Violet eyes. Wavy white hair. The unforgettable combination of Alistair Aurum de Villiers. His eyes were larger and he was shorter than she remembered, but Arabella was certain. Even if they had spoken just once, this was him. This was the boy she was searching for. It was like speaking to a ghost. The revelation that she was speaking to a living, breathing Alistair stunned her into silence as she stared back at him dumbly.


    Though for whatever reason, Alistair stared right back at Arabella with a matching sense of nostalgia and familiarity. She watched as he composed himself and forced a smile onto his lips, "I''m sorry about grabbing you. It''s understandable if you''re afraid right now but it''s imperative you listen to what I have to say, Arabella Lockhart. You don''t know me and it may be hard to believe but..." He took a deep breath and placed a hand over his heart with a serious expression as though to pledge he was telling the truth. "My name is-"


    "Alistair Aurum de Villiers... You''re the late King''s son..." The words left Arabella in a trance-like state. Though as bizarre as it was that she was even speaking to him right now, there was something about what he said that stood out to her like an alarm calling out that something was not quite right. Arabella''s brows furrowed as she faced him. "I know who you are. I know more than I should know about you right now. But... How do you know who I am?"


    Alistair''s face became unreadable for a split moment, until finally, his lips quirked upwards into a slight smirk of surprise. With an intrigued glimmer in his eye, he asked one question.


    "Have you also... returned to the past?"

 10. Passing Ships in the Night (3)

    "Huh, so that''s how things ended up for you...." Alistair rolled a pebble he had picked up from the ground between his fingers with a thoughtful look in his eye. He hummed in thought, eyes staring straight forward into the sea. "And you''ve only been here a week?"


    "A little bit over that," Arabella corrected, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Most of it was spent searching for you. No one here so much as mentioned you, aside from a foreign dressmaker who just happened to spot you in Nyotari."


    The two of them had made themselves comfortable on a bench overlooking the port, the same bench Arabella had sat on with Aubrey a mere day ago. She had not anticipated she would be back so soon, let alone with such company. Sitting side by side with Alistair felt almost surreal and it took an active effort from Arabella not to pinch herself. She cautiously glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Alistair didn''t seem much too fazed by any of this at all, rather, he seemed resigned.


    She watched as the boy grasped the pebble in his hands and tossed it into the air, catching it and repeating the motion. A slight smile appeared on Alistair''s lips, "I guess when it comes down to it, they really stuck to their words."


    Arabella raised a brow, "What do you mean?"


    "My mother and I settled here when I was a kid. Since then, we were pretty reclusive, but the few people who did get to know us promised her that if anyone ever came searching, they wouldn''t say a thing."


    "Do they... know about your identity?"


    Alistair shook his head softly, his head of white hair flowing with the movement, "I doubt it. They know me as ''Al''. Hardly any nobles knew what we looked like, I doubt that anyone outside of high society would." He muttered under his breath, with a bitter sigh. "If there was anything that old goat was good at, it was hiding his shame."


    Suddenly, the discomfort of the people Arabella talked to over the week started to make a little more sense. Perhaps it had less to do with her reputation, and more to do with this vow of secrecy they had held in honour of Alistair and his mother. Either way, she was glad to know that her assessment of him being within the Lockhart Earldom was correct in the end.


    Though, Arabella did not fail to notice that she had gone through much effort to explain her experience, from his death up until now, and yet she had failed to hear the same from Alistair himself, "... I''m still missing some details about what happened after you went back..."


    Alistair huffed quietly, crossing his arms and leaning back into the bench, leg crossed over the other in a relaxed motion. Arabella watched with piqued interest before he bluntly stated, "What''s there to say? I died and then I woke up."


    Arabella felt her brow twitch. With a sharp glare she snapped back, "That''s all?"


    Unfazed by her glare, Alistair sighed, "I just had business to attend to in Nyotari. It has nothing at all to do with this. Most of my week was spent travelling to and fro."


    Despite her frustration with Alistair''s secretiveness, Arabella instead chose to show some restraint and huffed in response. She got the sense that he wouldn''t elaborate further, no matter what she said. But in a moment, a connection seemed to click in her head and she spun in her seat to face Alistair with wide blue eyes and her voice raised, "Wait... Are you the stowaway!?"


    Alistair''s violet-coloured eyes blinked owlishly for a moment at her outburst, but rather than refute the claim he laughed guiltily, "Ah, so you knew about that?"


    Disbelief clouded Arabella''s features as she gawked at him, "But... How did you? My brother would never have just let you walk free! How are you here?"


    "Well, I may have blindsided him a little... There was an... incident and I locked him in a cabin before I got away." Alistair explained himself with a beaming smile as though it was nothing.


    Arabella stared at him like he was going insane. To do something like that to Layton, he had to be crazy. No wonder there was such a strong police presence earlier, did Alistair really think he would get away with this? Her eyes darted around, surveying the area for the slightest glimpse of an officer searching for Alistair, "You must never have met my brother in the past if you think he would let this slide! What kind of plan did you have in mind, sneaking onto a Lockhart ship?"


    Alistair rubbed the back of his neck and smiled lopsidedly, "Well, I didn''t have a solid plan at all. Just that I needed to get back to Aurumia after spending the last of my money in Nyotari and that I needed to meet with Layton Lockhart so that I could eventually... meet... you...?" Alistair''s speech trailed off when Arabella in one swift motion got to her feet, removed her cloak and threw it around his shoulders. The article billowed, and Arabella made sure to pull the hood firmly over his head, flattening his wavy white hair. Alistair stared up at the girl who seemed more concerned with the cape than with anything that was coming out of his mouth. Though he wouldn''t complain; the heavy cloak was warmer than it looked. "What are you doing?"


    Unamused, Arabella looked down at him with a narrowed gaze, "Well, you never thought to tell me that you were a fugitive. Don''t you know that your hair makes you stick out like a sore thumb?" She shook her head at the bold disregard he seemed to display and crossed her arms before settling back into her seat. "We should probably finish this before you''re found out."


    Alistair stared at her for a moment before pinching the hood further down on his head and going back to speaking, "...I thought I would be able to reason with him, but after seeing him... I guess I figured it wouldn''t work."


    When he put it like that, maybe he made the right choice after all. Arabella winced internally trying to imagine how that conversation would have gone down, though it certainly would have ended with Layton throwing him in a jail cell, regardless of what he said. It was quick thinking on Alistair''s part. Reckless but it worked and Arabella couldn''t help but be a little impressed.


    Arabella shook her head to herself, finding that they had lingered on the topic for too long. With a serious expression, she faced him again, "I have to ask..." Alistair tilted his head in her direction, indicating that she should continue. At his gaze, she suddenly felt a little self-conscious and looked down at her lap instead. "Of all things, I didn''t expect at all that you would have also gone back in time. But even less so that you would be looking for me."


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    Even if she didn''t say it outright, Alistair could hear the questioning tone in Arabella''s voice and answered accordingly, "If you''re asking why I came searching for you specifically. It''s because..." He paused, pondering on how to phrase his thoughts by gazing out into the sea, leaving Arabella biting her cheek in anticipation of his answer. Finally, Alistair met her gaze with a side glance and a small smile. "You''re the only person I could think of who showed me support back then."


    "...What?" Arabella replied in complete bewilderment. What was he talking about? Support? They spoke once and if her memory was not failing her, it was not a positive conversation.


    "I thought it would be worth a try, even if it was a long shot," Alistair laughed softly, but his words seemed to be fully sincere. "You said something along the lines of disliking me because of our ''circumstances''."


    "I called you annoying," Arabella corrected, still in disbelief over his thought process.


    "Exactly," Alistair''s smile morphed into an amused smirk. "And haven''t those circumstances changed dramatically? Unless you''re still fawning over Cecil." Arabella''s sharp glare illustrated his point and he nodded firmly. "I thought so. And if you came searching for me too, then I''d say I did the right thing. You said you didn''t wish any harm on me, and I suppose I was willing to take the gamble that you truly meant it."


    Arabella opened her mouth but found herself speechless and settled for silence. She didn''t have the heart to tell him that if by some chance, it was her actual 14-year-old self that he had met, his efforts would truly have been in vain.


    "By the way, you never mentioned it..." Suddenly, Alistair''s expression grew somewhat serious and Arabella was dragged out of her thoughts, furrowing her brows in the slightest. "But the reason you searched for me. It has something to do with revenge against Cecil, isn''t it?


    Arabella frowned, "Isn''t that much obvious?" She sighed and brushed back some hair that had fallen out of place. "Since I came back, it''s all I think of. Don''t you want some kind of retribution?"


    Alistair spoke with a familiar sense of nonchalance, violet eyes staring straight forward into the distance, "I couldn''t care less about what happens to Cecil. What I want is the throne."


    Arabella eyed him for a while, trying to gauge his intentions... But to her surprise, there wasn''t a cloud of dishonesty or insincerity in his tone. She furrowed her brows, "You''re just... You don''t care about what he did to you? Throwing you aside like you''re just some piece on his chessboard? Toying with you like you''re nothing?" She sounded more emotional than she had intended and bit her tongue to disguise it, frustrated with herself.


    Alistair paid no mind to her reasoning, "My death was inevitable. Cecil just sped it up. I said it to you back then already: I was fighting a losing battle," A sudden fire seemed to light in Alistair''s eyes as he spoke. "Cecil played the game and won. This time, I''m going to win. It''s that simple."


    Stunned, Arabella studied his words. It didn''t take long to figure out that the fire in Alistair''s violet eyes was unadulterated determination. It was like he truly believed in his own words with a confidence that could not be replicated.  She swallowed before continuing, mustering as much conviction as she could, placing a hand on her chest,"...If you don''t care about whatever state Cecil winds up in, then that''s fine by me. I''ll help you become king, so long as you don''t deny me my own retribution."


    A knowing smile crossed Alistair''s lips as he once more met her sharp gaze, "Now, why would I do such a thing?"


    "Arabella!"


    At the familiar shout of her name, Arabella practically leapt out of her own skin. The rapid sound of approaching footsteps sounded from behind her and before she could even turn to look, she was tugged off of the bench and pulled behind an imposing figure. Arabella looked up to a familiar head of dark blue hair and gawked, "Layton!"


    He had made quick work of grasping Alistair by the collar with a scowl of pure fury, leaving Alistair staring back helplessly in wide-eyed shock. Arabella attempted to make a grab for Layton''s arm only to be pulled into a sudden protective hold from behind. She gasped at the sudden embrace and was spun around to come face to face with Olivia''s terrified expression, "Arabella! Are you alright!? You just disappeared and-and I thought something terrible had happened!" Arabella squeaked as she was pulled into a tight embrace again, a mixture of panic and relief was evident in Olivia''s voice. "I searched for you everywhere, and when I couldn''t find you I went to Layton immediately! My heart couldn''t take it! I''m so happy we found you!"


    Layton seemed to have noticed the familiar cloak he was grasping onto and glared at the young boy, "What did you do to her? Why are you wearing this?"


    Arabella was overwhelmed with how quickly things had taken a turn for the worse. The overload of yelling and panicking made her head spin and she couldn''t help but watch the scene unfold before her. Alistair, to her surprise, had kept calm even with her brother glaring daggers through his skull and raised his hands innocently, "I apologise for what I did on the ship, Lord Lockhart."


    "Did I ask you about that? I believe I asked what you did to my sister?" Layton''s grip only tightened in response.


    "I ran from the ship because I was afraid, Lord Lockhart. And when I did I came across Lady Arabella..." His violet eyes flitted to hers for a split second, unfazed by his predicament and Arabella snapped out of her stupor and zoned in on his words. "...Some thugs were harassing her, trying to rob her. I stepped in as soon as I saw, My lord."


    Ah, so that''s how it was. Alistair''s shameless lie was as impressive as his composure. It seemed she would have to put her years of tantrums and fake tears to good use for once. Little did Alistair know, she could be just as shameless as him.


    Both Layton and Olivia jumped at the sound of quiet sniffles, turning to find Arabella holding a hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes, "I-I''m sorry for wandering. It''s all my fault- I should have never strayed. But when those thugs cornered me I-I..." Covering her face in her hands, Arabella let the tears fall and emitted as pitiful a sob as she could muster. "I was so afraid... If Al didn''t show up when he did, then I-I-"


    Olivia rushed to her side in an instant, her blue eyes melting into sympathy as she rubbed a comforting hand on Arabella''s back, "I should have kept a closer eye on you, so don''t blame yourself!"


    With a staged tearful hiccup, Arabella turned to her sister, "No, there was nothing you could have done. They were so imposing, it would have only resulted in you putting yourself in danger for me... I wouldn''t have wanted that..."


    Arabella had noticed that Layton''s grasp on Alistair had loosened considerably, though stubbornly, he had yet to let go. Layton''s eyes flashed with conflict, though his firm stare did not disappear. Finally, he sighed, begrudgingly releasing Alistair at last, "I...Give my sincerest gratitude to you for stepping in when you did." Alistair looked slightly eager until Layton returned to his cold stare. "But what happened earlier today cannot be ignore-"


    In a blur, Arabella had pushed past her brother and embraced Alistair in a tight hug, causing her siblings to watch on in bewilderment. She cringed internally at herself, but unsurprisingly, Alistair had adapted quickly and returned the awkward hug without care. Getting back into character, Arabella stepped back with a bright smile, eyes flicking to Layton to ensure he was watching, "I can''t thank you enough for comforting me, Al. Would you like to join us for dinner tonight, as a thank you-" Calculatingly, Arabella cut herself off and feigned disappointment after meeting eyes with Layton. She bowed her head and frowned. "Oh... sorry, my brother would never allow such a thing."


    Layton opened his mouth to speak but was promptly silenced by a sharp elbow to the ribs by Olivia who immediately stepped forward, stopping in front of the two ''friends''. Olivia placed a hand on Alistair''s shoulder and smiled warmly, "Ignore what Layton says. Al, you are welcome to join us tonight if you so, please. We must extend our gratitude."


    Arabella smiled to herself. If Layton said no, then Olivia was almost always guaranteed to say yes. Alistair sent a subtle look of surprise Arabella''s way before beaming up at Olivia, "It would be an honour, my lady."

 11. Passing Ships in the Night (4)

    The dining room, despite the short notice given to the servants, had been immaculately prepared in such a short time; the candlelight and flowers lining the long table served as a pleasant distraction from the heavy silence permeating the dinner table as the group awaited their food to be served.


    Layton, sitting beside Olivia hadn''t seemed to have let go of the day''s earlier incident since the carriage ride. His green eyes narrowed at every single movement made at the table. Arabella swallowed slightly, fearing the scolding she would receive after this. Meanwhile, Olivia had a tight smile fixed on her lips as she tried to look anywhere but at Layton. Arabella''s eyes shifted to the spot at the table, directly across from her, where Alistair seemed to be sitting none the wiser to the fact that he was currently the star of this show. Either that or he just didn''t seem to care. She stared perplexed at the boy who seemed entranced by the dancing flames in the candles; the yellow flame reflecting in his violet eyes.


    As though he could sense her stare, Alistair''s eyes flicked up in a split second to meet hers, startling the girl. Her lips straightened into a nervous line as he stared straight back at her before his lips curved into a small smile. Just how was he so calm right now?


    The opening of the double doors wrenched the attention of the four away as the food finally made its arrival and before long, the table was completely set. Olivia seemed to perk up the slightest bit and brushed her warm brown locks behind her ear, offering an awkward smile to the table in a bid to salvage the atmosphere, "Everyone, please enjoy the meal!"


    Arabella winced looking down at the food laid out before her. The knots in her stomach right now made eating an impossible task, but in order to keep up appearances she picked up her knife and fork regardless, subtly pushing the meal around the plate. To her relief, the sounds of scraping cutlery soon filled the empty silence of the room and it started to feel like an actual dinner scene at last.


    "...Is the meal that our staff prepared not to your liking?"


    Arabella jumped at the cold sound of Layton''s voice that sliced through the atmosphere like a knife. Afraid that she had been caught toying with her food like a child, she winced preparing to create an excuse only to pause upon the realisation that Layton''s pointed glare was aimed not at her but at the seat across from her. She followed his line of sight to Alistair, who for the first time that day looked like a deer in headlights. She watched as Alistair who still had his hands rested in his lap beneath the table startled at the question, "...H-Huh?"


    Unamused, Layton set down his knife and fork, opting instead to interlace his fingers under his chin while never removing his heavy stare, "You were the one who agreed to come to dinner, was it not? Have you suddenly lost your appetite or have we wasted a plate on you?"


    "Brother!" at his words, Olivia scolded Layton and narrowed her blue eyes at him. "He''s our guest. Don''t put him on the spot."


    "He is your guest. I had no say in the matter." Layton finished, not even sparing her a glance.


    In the middle of their argument, Arabella took notice of Alistair''s slightly shell-shocked expression. An air of anxiety encompassed his wide violet eyes as he stared unblinkingly and distrustingly at the glass and plate of food laid out before him. He opened his mouth as though to say something but seemed to opt against it, swallowing nervously. And as Arabella watched him, she was suddenly reminded of a familiar image. The moonlit romantic dinner scene laid out in the palace garden she had found, tainted by a white-haired corpse, the distinct memory of a face that looked as though it was still seeking desperate final gasps for air despite its eery stillness, forever frozen in torment. And the spilt glass laying at his feet.


    "Hey."


    The sound of her voice seemed to snap Alistair out of his trance and he looked up at her, eyes still wide. With a heavy sigh, Arabella stood and leaned across the table pinching at a vegetable from his plate and tossing it into her mouth with her bare fingers. To the bewilderment of her siblings, she then made a reach for his glass taking a long and hearty sip at the juice before wiping at her lips. The knots in her stomach only worsened at her impetuous actions but as an act of goodwill, she triumphed through her stomach pains to stare Alistair straight in the eye. His anxious expression seemed to have dissolved away into a look of astonishment instead, causing her to sigh in slight relief. "It tastes good. You should have no issue with the taste, even if you''re not used to it."


    "Arabella!"


    The girl winced and jumped back into her seat at the cries of surprise from both her older siblings as she prepared for the most embarrassing scolding she could receive in front of a guest. Of course, Layton was the first to speak his mind, through his disbelief, "...Arabella. Has it really been so long without your governess that you''ve forgotten common courtesy?"


    "As much as I hate to agree, I believe you owe an apology to this young man..." Olivia''s disapproving tone was accompanied by an equally disapproving glance.


    Arabella clenched her teeth slightly, reminded immediately of the many times in the past she had been scolded like this. Worse was the reminder that she hadn''t quite raised above her old self since it took biting her tongue not to snark back and cause an argument. Regardless, she sucked up her pride and muttered, "...Please forgive me for my impertinence..."


    Alistair hadn''t removed his gaze from her since her outburst, but gave a long contemplative look to the food on his plate, "There''s nothing to forgive." As though it was second nature to him, he slowly picked up his cutlery and took a slow and hesitant bite of his food. "...You''re right. It is good." And as though nothing had happened at all, he was suddenly back to his smiling self, sending a charming look Olivia''s way. "My compliments to the chef." He then directed his courteous smile Layton''s way. "I am impressed that you organised such an extravagant dinner on such short notice, Lord Lockhart."


    Alistair''s skill for controlling the atmosphere of the room didn''t go unnoticed by Arabella. Olivia seemed to have finally perked up at the return of a conversation partner and even Layton seemed slightly chuffed at the compliment to his planning skills, taking a disgruntled sip of wine.


    Olivia grinned back at him, "Your table manners are excellent for your age, Al. Who taught you?"


    "My mother. She was very particular that even as a commoner I would be taught such manners." Alistair smiled back with an honest look of pride in his eyes. "She left me with that much, so I am grateful that you noticed."


    Olivia seemed to catch on to his wording and her brows furrowed the slightest bit, "She ''left'' you, with that much?"


    "She passed around a week ago."


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Arabella felt her movements freeze involuntarily at his words and she was not alone. Just like that, silence returned to the dining room tenfold.


    Olivia''s lips settled into a frown, brows furrowing even further, "...I apologise for bringing up the topic..." She paused in contemplation before raising a question. "Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?"


    "I''ve been fending for myself quite well, since. So not necessarily."


    Layton''s hard gaze seemed to soften slightly, despite the firm frown cemented on his lips upon hearing this, "...There is an orphanage in town funded by the Lockharts. I can have you lodged there even on short notice-"


    "With all due respect," Alistair''s calm expression didn''t seem to match his serious tone. "If I had any intention of going to the orphanage, I would have been there already."


    Arabella eyed him carefully, a feeling of conflicted emotion brewing within her that she pushed down in the back of her mind. She had a sense she knew where he was going with this. Though, his methods of doing so did not bode well with her. Sucking down her feelings she spoke bluntly, "If you have nowhere to go... Then stay here for the time being."


    Paying no mind to the shocked but conflicted expression on Olivia''s face, Arabella let her stare linger on Alistair for a long while. From her tone, it was clear she was dead serious. Surprisingly, Layton himself seemed to sense that and hadn''t settled into a firm objection just yet. Alistair met her stare head-on, confused by the conflicted light in Arabella''s eyes. She wondered if he was lying. Perhaps he had heard about their father''s recent passing and was making things up, knowing it would pull on their heartstrings with the similarities in their stories. Silently, she hoped that it wasn''t the case, because undoubtedly it had worked as evidenced by how her heart clenched at his words.


    Unable to look at him any longer with that thought in her mind, Arabella instead let her gaze fall to her plate, "...I''m sure that would be fine for a little while, wouldn''t it, brother?"


    Layton''s long bout of silence was louder than words. The mere fact he hadn''t shut down the conversation was a miracle in itself. But after a moment of silent contemplation, he signalled for the butler to approach him with a wave of his hand, "Prepare a room suitable for our guest. Something that should suffice for the night."


    <hr>


    Upon opening his room door at the sound of two knocks in the dead of the night, Alistair sighed in relief when he was face to face with a blank-faced Arabella, "I was wondering when you would show up." Despite his comment, she acted as though she hadn''t heard him, casually pushing past him to enter the room. He raised a brow at her silence. Somehow, the blank expression on the girl''s face was making him uneasy, so he resorted to his usual ramblings to fill the silence with an unsure expression. "I don''t even remember the last time I slept somewhere this nice. Hundreds of rooms in that palace and what a coincidence, they shoved me into the wing that had been in disrepair for years... It was smart though. Made it clear that I was unwelcome..."


    Arabella wasn''t even listening to a word Alistair had to say, mind raking through his words over dinner. She frowned to herself, unbeknownst to her making Alistair slightly relieved that she had finally shown some form of expression. Though that didn''t quell his worries at her lingering silence. Giving an awkward cough, he shyly rubbed the back of his neck speaking earnestly, "I apologise for making you embarrass yourself for me earlier. But know that I''m... very grateful. These days I don''t touch anything I haven''t prepared for myself..."


    Alistair nearly jumped out of his skin when Arabella faced him with a cold stare. Her look was enough to shut him up as she searched for the right words, "...If what you said at the table earlier was a lie, it was a filthy lie to make." Her eyes darkened slightly, her tone growing into one of warning. "Do not use things like that against me. Especially not against my family, you went too far." At Alistair''s wide-eyed silence, her eyes narrowed, pointing an accusatory look his way. "You knew about my father''s death, didn''t you? And you used it as a ploy to get what you wanted."


    Stupified, Alistair stared back at her, unaffected now by her sharp glare. Arabella felt her teeth begin to grind at how insistent he was to remain quiet even as she was accusing him.


    "It wasn''t a lie."


    Eyes widening, Arabella''s sharp gaze faltered. Alistair simply frowned and shrugged his shoulders while avoiding her gaze. "It sounds implausible, doesn''t it? Both of us were orphaned within the same week. But I''m telling the truth. I didn''t use it as a ploy."


    Still stunned, Arabella struggled to speak out her next words, "B-But... you were in Nyotari."


    The white-haired boy''s expression couldn''t have become more avoidant if he had tried. The silence that followed was almost deafening, as Alistair was the one who stewed in his thoughts. With the moonlight reflecting his thoughtful expression, there was a sense of melancholy that seemed to be revealed in it. Finally, he sighed and raised a hand to scratch at his cheek, "I already said it had nothing to do with this. But if you''re so insistent, I was in Nyotari because it was where my mother wanted to be buried." It took an active effort on his part to force his eyes back to meet Arabella''s but there was a pure-hearted honesty in his words that could be felt. "That''s it. I told the truth. It''s up to you if you want to believe me."


    Arabella suddenly felt filled to the brim with shame. Her lips tightened into a straight line and her brows furrowed guiltily. She moved over to the bed not far from her to sit and process what he had told her, but even then all she could utter was shameful, "...oh." Yet again she had overreacted and made something bad out of nothing. Yet again she had proven to herself that she wasn''t all that different from the impulsive girl hanging by a rope. She opened her mouth but failed to find the words for an apology. She sighed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by emotion and uttered, "...It''s strange, isn''t it. Having to go through mourning a second time for the same person."


    She had noticed a running theme lately of her opening her mouth without properly thinking about what she was saying. Feeling the bed dip while she mulled through her thoughts, Arabella jumped slightly only to find that to her surprise, Alistair had taken a seat beside her. He was seated comfortably, one leg crossed over the other and supporting his weight with an arm resting on the bed behind him. With a bittersweet smile, he spoke, "... I''m grateful for it. It finally let me have some sort of closure... I wasn''t able to fulfil that wish for her last time, I didn''t have enough money. But now that I don''t have any reason to stick around there... Why not dish out every last saving we had to fulfil it?"


    Feeling her heart clench again, Arabella bit her lip slightly to hide her touched expression. That slightly melancholic and poignant expression... She hadn''t seen him make such a face since that time on the balcony. Despite her best efforts, her eyes softened making eye contact with him and stunning Alistair to silence, "...I''m glad that you managed to have a proper send-off. Your mother raised you well..."


    Alistair''s ears turned a magnificent pink at the compliment, unable to tear himself away from staring into Arabella''s softening blue eyes. Quickly, he ripped his gaze away and towards the ground once more, an awkward toothy grin gracing his features as he laughed it off, "Ha! Come on, don''t talk to me like I''m an actual kid now. I''m 17 inside, remember?"


    Arabella''s blue eyes hardened in an instant as she was reminded again. She had almost forgotten that he had died a whole year before her. It was funny how such an innocent comment could drag her back to reality. She had completely forgotten about her original intention of coming here to discuss her plan, getting swept up in her emotions. But now... She was suddenly feeling far too sentimental to do it.


    Getting up from the bed, a small smile graced her lips as she prepared to make her leave, "There''s a poem I remember reading. But on account of our return to the past, I''m assuming it is yet to be written. Regardless, it stuck with me." Alistair looked up at her in intrigue as she continued with a thoughtful look. "It likened people to ships that pass in the night."


    Staring up at her, now with a raised brow, Alistair tilted his head slightly to the side, "Strange metaphor. What does that have to do with anything?"


    Arabella opened her mouth but actively made the choice to hold her tongue this time, hiding an embarrassed murmur behind her hand, "It... It doesn''t matter. It was just something that came to mind." Finally, she smiled and made her leave. "Good Night."


    As she walked back to her room among the spiralling halls of the manor, Arabella finally let her emotions show with an exaggerated sigh of relief. Perhaps she had gotten too sentimental back there. What was she thinking, reciting poetry to him? Let alone a poem with romantic context, even if she hadn''t interpreted it in such a way? Her common sense had prevailed in this one instance.

 12. Winter

    Spring sunshine was truly something that could not be beaten in regard to being the perfect accompaniment to a sweet floral tea blend. The sweet spot of the season in which the rain showers began to subside and the flowers were just starting to come to life again made the perfect backdrop for an outdoor tea... while planning how to overthrow a prince.


    With the staff too busy with other matters to supervise two kids chatting, Arabella and Alistair had made themselves comfortable at a table in the garden. Arabella''s eyes flowed between each newspaper title laid out across the table, each one from a variety of companies and the majority of which she squinted her eyes at, finding no familiarity in the names.


    "That''s because the papers you read are probably all made for the aristocracy," Alistair answered her question while flipping through one of his own. He then raised a brow at her. "Do you think everyday people care about which daughter is marrying which Duke? Or what Viscount is going through which divorce?" Finally, he tapped at one of the papers left on the table, disapprovingly. "It''s all just mere puff. Nothing that''s of use to us."


    Arabella frowned in thought and let her eyes follow the article he was referencing. Seeing it now, she remembered that incident as Viscount Fitzwilliam''s 3rd divorce. An old man with far too much money and a taste for women much younger than him. Her nose scrunched unconsciously in disgust. But if she remembered correctly, with divorce number 3 out of the way, that would make way for wife number 4, the one who finally outlived the old pervert and took him for all he was worth: Harriett Fitzwilliam.


    She filed that tidbit in her memory right next to her information about Yvette Salvatore in information to follow up at a later date.


    In the meantime, she brushed Alistair''s hand away from the paper and pointed at it herself, "Maybe so. But for someone aiming for the very top of the food chain, you''re very dismissive of the aristocracy. Those on the royal council whose votes we''re hoping to win are part of it." To prove her point, Arabella dug through the pile of papers to find some pages that had caught her eye earlier, listing aloud as she flipped through. "Duke Salvatore, Viscountess Hawthorne, Duchess Kane, Marquess Powell, Duke Berbrook..." And to solidify her point she slapped the newspaper in front of him. "Just like that, their names are at least mentioned. Don''t dismiss the power of gossip. Slowly winning their favour over the years by relying on the information is the safest bet."


    Alistair''s expression held no room for convincing, "Playing it safe is what led to that other timeline..." He furrowed his light brows. "I''ll never play it safe again."


    Grimacing, Arabella came to the realisation that getting along with Alistair would be more difficult than she first anticipated. Judging by his reckless actions on the ship, he was serious about never playing it safe, "Has no one told you about what happens when you fly too close to the sun?"


    Noting her grimace, Alistair laughed slightly to lighten the mood, shining her a charming smile, "Haha, don''t give me that look. Has no one told you that fortune favours the bold? Flying at all is a better outcome than staying rooted to the ground forever." Arabella''s clear lack of amusement, caused him to laugh awkwardly before regaining his composure. Brushing a hand through his white locks, his eyes turned much more mischievous. "Anyway, You want information? I have a sense I know where to find it. And it would prove much more valuable than anything these gossip columns could provide."


    He leaned in closer across the table, as though there was anyone here who could possibly hear him and hushed his voice, not breaking eye contact for a second, "Have you heard the name, ''Winter'', before?"


    Cautious but intrigued, Arabella quirked a brow, "...I don''t believe so." Inside she questioned if that was even a name. Was he making things up?


    "I wouldn''t have expected you to," Alistair sat back down on his seat. "She''s an information broker. No one knows her real name, even those that she chooses to deal with. And believe me, she is very ''choosy''."


    Even though he sounded earnest, Arabella couldn''t stop scepticism from rising in the back of her mind and leaking into her tone, "Really now. And you know her... how?"


    "Did you buy the story I gave the night I snuck into the banquet? Did you really buy that I scaled the walls of the palace?"


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Arabella knew damn well to stay silent and take a sip of her tea in response. Primarily because the thought of him struggling to scale the palace gates and somehow not getting caught amused her to no end back then and that was enough to convince her. She was a little disappointed to hear that the miraculous athletic feat was not true.


    "That woman would have had my head if I mentioned her. Besides, when the flame burns too close for her liking in the capital, she flees to the country, waiting for things to cool down." Alistair reached for the forgotten plate of cookies and chomped into one. "You take one wild guess where that is."


    The earldom. As hard as it was to believe, Arabella couldn''t shake the feeling of familiarity with that. Biting her tongue, she raked through her memories for an answer to the deja vu but failed to find it. ''Winter'' was not a name she recognised, let alone one she believed she had ever heard. But something nagged at the back of her mind that this wasn''t her first time interacting with such an entity. Her failure to find the meaning, caused Arabella to furrow her brow as she spoke, "Well, you''re bold, I will give you that. But how do you know for certain where she is right now?"


    The question caused Alistair''s violet eyes to light up with an impish glow, his lips spreading into a smug smile as he grasped one of the papers to point at a headline. Arabella looked at him pensively before, letting her eyes fall to the newspaper and reading through the article. It detailed the arrest of an infamous scamming duo in the capital. According to the story, all of the money went missing despite both scammers having been caught. Arabella squinted at the smug-looking boy before her.


    "That sound''s like Winter''s work," Alistair smiled in a self-satisfying manner. "One of her ''services'' includes hiding the goods for criminals when they''re caught in exchange for a fair share of the bounty. That is if they ever get released at all." With a knowing look, Alistair leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, his tone growing slightly serious. "If the story is in the papers, then that alone is too much heat for her. My guess? She''s waiting it out in the earldom."


    Processing his words, Arabella looked at the paper one more time. His theory made some sense, and there would be nothing to lose even if he was wrong. After a moment, Arabella smiled slightly, "Alright. I vote in favour of your plan." As out there as it was, having someone like that on her side with connections so wide she managed to sneak someone into the palace didn''t seem to have any downsides. "How are you planning to approach her?"


    "Oh, not me! You!" Alistair''s exclamation was only met with a bewildered face from Arabella and he laughed casually, waving a hand in dismissal. "I probably should have opened with that!" When Arabella''s shocked face morphed into a sharp glare his laughter subsided and he once more grew serious. Leaning in again, Alistair''s violet eyes seemed to sharpen in a way that seemed uncharacteristic of him. "The message that I want to send will come off stronger, coming from you. Trust me."


    After a long pause, Arabella sighed and reluctantly answered, "Tonight then. It''s not difficult to sneak out of the estate through the servant''s quarters." Alistair let out a boyish grin that Arabella couldn''t help but find infectious enough to elicit a small smile out of her too. But in coming to her senses she coughed the smile away and stared him down blankly. "...Don''t forget about what I told you earlier, though. We can''t rely on outside forces too much. You''re only going to be here for a week until Olivia leaves for the academy, so we''re making use of that time." With a proud smirk, she pulled out the schedule she had prepared and laid it in front of the boy much to his dismay. "I don''t want to follow a stupid King, so we are both on a strict studying schedule. Starting today."


    The look of despair in Alistair''s eyes was unmissable, but with a frustrated sigh, he quickly picked himself right back up again. The boy withheld a pout and scratched at his head of white hair in a lazy manner, though his tone did not match his demeanour at all, "If that''s what it takes. Anything to be King."


    His delivery made Arabella pause for a brief moment. It didn''t go ignored by her that with every mention of his aspiration, he failed to elaborate on why. Let alone why he always proclaimed it with that razor-sharp determination as though he knew something she didn''t. But she wouldn''t pester him to elaborate, not this time. The last time she did that, he ended up having to confess something deeply personal to quell her anger.


    Not like it mattered much to her what his motivations were anyway. It was in her best interest that he remained this determined in reaching his goal.


    "Lady Arabella... I have some news for you."


    Arabella turned in her seat to find a pale-looking Carol approaching her. The maid was fidgeting at the hem of her apron and slightly dewy as though she had run there. After a long while of watching the girl fidget, the ghost of a smirk made its way to Arabella''s lips. It seemed Aubrey had completed her ''first assignment'' as Arabella had requested and it seemed to have worked beautifully. Arabella feigned a warm smile, "Why don''t we go to the drawing room, Carol? If you came all the way here, I''m sure it is important." She stood from her spot. "Just allow me to say goodbye to my friend here. Wait for me, will you?"


    The frazzled maid swallowed visibly and curtsied before scurrying away and towards the manor.


    Alistair squinted slightly at the devilish smirk on Arabella''s features, "I''m guessing you had something to do with her expression."


    "Perhaps. We''ll see soon enough," Finally Arabella smirked confidently at him, pinching gently at her skirt and bending into the perfect curtsy. "Now, excuse me while I go tend to the fruits of my labour."

 13. Reflection

    "Aubrey! You''re finally free!"


    The merry shouts of her name, hardly startled the woman as she descended into the servant''s quarters, crossing into the room in which her fellow coworkers had already begun to make use of the weekend with alcohol and food laid out on the table. The common Friday night sight caused Aubrey to huff slightly in endearment as she untied her apron from her waist and approached the large group.


    "For tonight, yes." She answered curtly, though her eyes were occupied with the redhead sitting at the far end of the table eyeing her. Aubrey''s mind ran back to her ''assignment'' and she twisted the object around her finger, causing the emerald to glint in the candlelight. Letting her grey eyes fall back to the group, she feigned a teasing smile. "You''re all better off going out for drinks than making so much noise here."


    The stablehand, Oliver, gulped down his drink before laughing, "With all the fuss about thieves that Earl Lockhart made? No way! A night out on the town isn''t fun with officers watching your back."


    "Hold on! What is that?" Another maid, Jane gawked at the glimmering jewel on Aubrey''s finger with shining eyes. Aubrey jerked only the slightest bit when the energetic girl reached forward and grabbed her hand, inspecting the gem, and smiling. "Aubrey, this looks expensive. Is the pay as Lady Arabella''s personal maid that good?"


    "It has to be to deal with her all day."


    "Maybe I shouldn''t have rejected the position..."


    By now, Aubrey was crowded, though she paid very little mind to the fawning of her peers and instead let her eyes fall on the one girl who had not come to inspect the jewellery. Carol stared wide-eyed, looking as though she had swallowed something sour and it was exactly as Arabella had said. Aubrey''s curiosity pushed her further into her next orders. She smiled slightly at the group and modelled the ring on her finger, making sure it would be in Carol''s line of sight, "It was a gift. Lady Arabella thought my work deserved some recognition."


    The looks of surprise on the others'' faces at the explanation morphed into question upon question. Though Aubrey found herself uninterested in entertaining her now curious coworkers and instead turned to Carol who had stood up abruptly in her seat, chair scraping backwards. The girl''s nostrils flared, though she hid her emotions behind a deceivingly blank face. Aubrey remained her usual calm self, "Is anything wrong?"


    "That''s a lie," Carol spoke with a slightly smug tone without a smile, dragging the attention of everyone else in the room towards her. "That girl has never done such a thing in her life."


    Aubrey stared right back into Carol''s eyes with an incredulous expression. It was amazing. Just like Arabella said. Shaking off her surprise, she shrugged at Carol, "If it will satisfy you, why don''t you ask her yourself?"


    By now all the others had listened in to the scene with blatantly eagre faces.


    Aubrey tried her best to balance her expression just like she was asked to. Just a little bit guilty looking, only the slightest bit nervous. Then that would be enough. Judging by the challenging fire look in Carol''s eyes, it seemed as though she had succeeded.


    "Fine. I will."


    <hr>


    "It''s been a while since we spoke in private, hasn''t it, Carol?"


    Arabella closed the door to the drawing room behind her, causing Carol to jump slightly. Her brown eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she turned, her lips pulled into a tight nervous line. Even if it was cruel, Arabella couldn''t help but be amused watching her squirm. When would she say it? Would she back out?


    Arabella doubted she''d go back now.


    Carol, frowned and finally opened her mouth to speak, "I... I have something crucial to tell you, Lady Arabella." It seemed as though it was becoming increasingly difficult for the girl to maintain eye contact, but she persevered. "I want you to know that I have not taken a thing from you since... that time. And I never will!" Arabella felt her excitement growing as the maid stumbled through her words. She smiled in encouragement for her to continue. Carol took this to heart and with confidence, proclaimed. "It may be hard to believe, but Aubrey is a thief."


    There it is. Arabella let some silence settle before tapping her chin in thought and tilting her head, "...Wasn''t that your sorry excuse last time?"


    The redhead visibly flinched but kept onward with the self-preservation that Arabella had come to expect from her, "It is not an excuse this time, Milady." Arabella watched as she slowly grew more confident in her accusations. "It is an emerald ring. I had seen it under your bed and didn''t dare touch it. But almost as soon as it disappeared, Aubrey arrives and parades it around claiming that it was a gift from you. I suspect that she was the one who placed it there, hoping you would forget about it so that she could take it for herself."


    "Hmm, that would be smart," Arabella couldn''t fight the smirk making its way onto her lips. "Sounds like something you would have done to me. Is that where you know the trick from?"


    Carol''s eyes flashed a subtle amount of resentment at her ridicule, a quick reminder that Arabella had gone a smidge too far. Coughing into her hand, she reeled a warm smile onto her face once more. She almost messed up, the point of this wasn''t to antagonise her after all. Beaming, Arabella waved a dismissive hand, "What I meant to say was I commend you for your perceptiveness, Carol. But it seems I''ve unintentionally misled you into thinking too deeply about things. I did gift the ring to Aubrey. Her work deserved a reward of some kind, don''t you agree? It was long overdue."


    Carol''s speechless face was oh-so-satisfying. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. The mere idea that Arabella would be generous seemed to be a world-breaking revelation.


    At her silence, Arabella beamed again, holding a hand playfully to her cheek as she crossed an arm over her chest, "I hope I didn''t cause some kind of altercation between the two of you. But I''m sure you understand. It''s not like I can hold you to the same standard as Aubrey, after all."


    If Arabella''s assessment was right, the subtle dip in Carol''s pale cheek indicated her biting it in humiliation. Knowing her, she wouldn''t have been surprised if she caused some kind of scene that would now be difficult to explain. Oh, how embarrassing it would be to return to the others and admit she was wrong. Carol avoided eye contact as she curtsied with furrowed brows, "...O-Of course not, Milady. Forgive me for wasting your time."


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Before the maid could leave the room, Arabella reached out her hand to touch her arm, "Wait." Carol turned in surprise, flinching slightly at the touch. Smiling, Arabella moved to unclasp the silver necklace around her neck before dangling the dainty accessory between her fingers. "For you."


    Carol blinked rapidly for 5 beats of silence before her face blossomed into wide-eyed disbelief. She reached out for a second only to retract her hand in caution. "...Me?"


    Widening her smile into an encouraging beam, Arabella spoke, "I can''t help but feel responsible for causing the misunderstanding. So take this as an apology." The young girl upturned her brows guiltily, letting her gaze fall to the ground. "I''m sure you don''t have the greatest image of me, especially not after our last conversation. But lately, I''ve self-reflected and it''s become clear as day that I am the one at fault for that." As Arabella lamented, she peeked at the maid who seemed taken to the performance of self-pity. "...I am undeserving of your continued service. And though this fails to suffice as compensation for my attitude, I hope you will accept my meagre apology..."


    Slack-jawed, Carol responded, "I-I couldn''t possibly-"


    "You must. It''s the least I could do," Arabella smiled softly, making a move forward and taking the redhead''s hand into her own smaller ones. She opened Carol''s trembling hand and placed the cold accessory in the centre of her palm.


    Taken aback, Carol did not know how to react. She swallowed nervously at the sudden humble behaviour of her lady, looking down at her hand that had been enclosed between both Arabella''s own. She didn''t own anything as pretty as that necklace, not after she returned her ''treasures''... and she was very fond of silver. Arabella''s apology rang through her mind and she finally allowed herself to be eagre, eyes sparkling, "T-Thank you, Lady Arabella! I accept-"


    "I almost forgot." Arabella interrupted, her smile remaining, though her tone growing slightly sharper. "You see, as diligent as Aubrey is, It also makes her quite the worrywart. It makes it difficult to ask her to do some tasks with discretion at times. And I always thought that since you and I are closer in age, there is... a greater level of understanding between us than could exist between me and Aubrey."


    Carol''s brown eyes flitted between the necklace in her hands and Arabella as she listened. Swallowing visibly, she answered with an enthusiastic smile, "...I can keep a secret, Milady."


    "Is that, so?" Arabella huffed in amusement. Well, by the looks of things, it seemed as though what happened that night in her bedroom had remained a secret even to Aubrey. Forcing a pleasant expression on her face, Arabella clapped her hands together, trying her best to look as innocent as possible. "...I''d like a hansom cab called to the front gates at midnight. Something that my brother and sister wouldn''t find out about. Would it be possible for you-"


    "I sneak into town discreetly all the time, Milady. Leave it to me." Carol''s enthusiasm caught even Arabella off guard as the redhead smiled determinedly. She Picked up her skirts and had already made it towards the door, "I won''t be long!"


    Arabella couldn''t even get a word in as she was left alone in the drawing room.


    ...For some reason her victory felt empty. Was all it took really just an apology? Was her old self really that inept and selfish? Yet another item to add to the list of her many failures. Puffing air out of her cheeks, Arabella brushed back her hair and forced herself to look forward. After all, regardless of the past, it was an accomplishment and one that she would have to take in stride.


    <hr>


    The night air nipped at the noses of the two young teens as they exited the safety of the hansom cab and faced the outside of a bustling pub within the dead centre of the earldom. The scent of alcohol prevailed over any other sensation, even while standing outside of the establishment. Glancing up at the hanging sign above, Arabella huffed to herself. ''The Hound''. How on the nose.


    Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and nodded towards the entrance, "Do you remember what I told you?"


    "Yes. The code. Of course." Arabella made sure once more that the hood of her cloak was securely pulled to cover enough of her face. "If she is there, I can be fairly convincing."  Facing the door now, it suddenly dawned on her that she was entering unknown territory and a nervous shiver wracked her spine. Arabella frowned, looking towards Alistair who seemed at ease. "...This ''Winter'', is she someone... with some decorum?"


    Smiling, Alistair answered, "If you''re scared, that''s fine. But I can assure you nothing will go wrong in there. She''s not a wild animal."


    "I''m not scared." Arabella clung to her cloak with an unconvincingly straight face. She didn''t appreciate his teasing tone and made a point to shoot him a sharp look.


    Taking a breath she stepped forward, pushing open the door and entering the warmth of the pub. The overwhelming beer smell caused her to wrinkle her nose once she did, surprised at how it seemed to permeate the air. It wasn''t as busy as she had first anticipated it would be, though it did not make the place seem any less lively. The warm lighting and intimate setting didn''t seem fitting. Letting her eyes move away from the small groups drinking and laughing at separate tables, she forced her feet towards the bar. It took some trouble to get onto the stool with her height, but after some effort, she came face to face with a bearded man.


    "...We don''t serve kids."


    His surly voice made Arabella freeze up slightly but after remembering her goal, she persevered, clearing her throat, "I understand. I am only here for... um..." She thought back to the phrase Alistair had given her and with a shaky voice spoke. "... A warm Chamomile..."


    The man at the bar, paused for a moment, and though it was barely noticeable, raised a brow, "...You''re certain about that?"


    "Yes. It looks as though it will snow tonight."


    At her response, the man huffed and turned from the bar. He didn''t look as convinced as she was hoping but her qualms were washed away when he gestured lazily to the back of the pub. "Up there. 3 Knocks."


    Turning, she spotted stairs leading to a second floor and a door. Without question, she put on a brave face and forced her feet to carry her, shakily, up the steps. Upon meeting the solid wood door she took a deep breath and gave 3 knocks, just like she was told. There was hardly a sound for a while, and Arabella felt a nervous sweat grow on her skin until a mature voice from the other end made her jump.


    "Enter."


    Arabella obeyed and upon doing so, froze in her footsteps. Her eyes widened at the sight of a woman lounging on a sofa, cigarette holder in hand and lips blowing out the smoke. A single Sultry brown eye looked at her through long brown eyelashes, the other one evidently covered with side-swept hair, hiding a wide eyepatch beneath it. The woman sighed to herself, "Arabella Lockhart. He said something about this, I almost forgot..." She inhaled a hearty intake of cigarette smoke. "You''ve caused me some trouble lately with all the fuss your brother is making about those made-up thieves of yours. I can''t catch a break, even here."


    Arabella''s heart raced as she tried to make sense of the deja vu arising within her. The door shut behind her, startling the girl and she forced herself to calm down. Facing winter, she answered cautiously, "That... wasn''t my intention." Arabella spoke absentmindedly, entranced. Her eyes widened as things started to piece together in her brain one by one. The feeling of familiarity from her conversation with Alistair earlier came to the forefront of her mind. "...You''re ''Winter''...?"


    ''Winter'' laughed and stood up, her tall stature causing her to tower above the young girl. She tapped the cigarette holder, ash falling like snow to the ground and smirked, "You have the right person. I''m pleased to make your acquaintance, at last."


    Arabella swallowed hard and stared at Winter, a feeling of certainty and reluctant relief rising within her. Because she was certain of it now- She knew this woman. Not as ''Winter'', but as a fleeting memory from her past life.


    As a fellow prisoner.

 14. Katherine

    "What amazing luck I have, huh?"


    Arabella looked up at the woman who showed up yesterday, one cell across from her with uninterested eyes. The company of someone else in the prison that wasn''t Cecil was something she had longed for months ago. She had prayed for it- begging for someone, anyone else. And now in her fifth month of imprisonment, her prayer had been heard. But that useless wish of hers had lost its appeal by the third month already.


    Ignoring her, Arabella pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Though the woman didn''t seem to care, smirking as she leaned against her cell bars, "Aren''t you listening? Isn''t it just amazing, us meeting here like this?"


    Arabella gave the stranger a blank stare, dryly answering, "...I don''t know you."


    The woman laughed, brushing back her messy short brown hair, moving the long tuft hanging in front of her right eye to reveal a long, jagged scar hiding beneath. It wasn''t fresh like the other bruises and cuts on the woman''s body, the scar looked as though it had been there a long time already. "Of course, you don''t. I''m the woman who was really running that earldom of yours. Unbeknownst to the Lockharts, clearly."


    Arabella felt her heart clench at the mention of the earldom. She tried her best not to think about her home or her family. Glaring at the woman to hide her trembling lip, she spat, "Shut up."


    The woman seemed unbothered, simply giving a sharp huff as she rested her head against the bars. For a brief moment, Arabella hoped that this would finally lead to silence, leaving her alone with her terrible thoughts, but the woman failed to get the hint. Her next words left her without any amusement, looking into her eyes there was a slight sorrow in them, "...So you''re the one who killed Al, huh...?"


    No words left Arabella''s lips. She only clung to herself tighter. Defending herself had become too taxing on her spirit, if she had to do it one more time she might really break.


    At that, a bitter laugh left the stranger''s lips, "...I''m just kidding. I know it wasn''t you."


    At this, Arabella flinched and her eyes shot upwards coming into contact with the woman''s sharp brown ones. Getting to her feet shakily, she rushed to the bars and clung to them. A swell of emotion, something akin to hope rose within her and her eyes lit up. She sputtered before finally asking desperately, "How... How do you know!?"


    The stranger tilted her head and her hair followed, she frowned slightly, "...Your family must really care about you to come to me for help. I tried real hard to stay under the Lockhart''s radar for years and yet they still found me. It''s my job to find out these things. You''re innocent."


    Tears welled in Arabella''s eyes as she processed the woman''s words. Olivia and Layton were still thinking about her. They had tried to help her somehow. Even after all this time, they were still looking out for her the best they could. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. The joy was short-lived however as she came to a conclusion. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head against the bars in defeat, "...But you''re here."


    The woman''s frown deepened and she looked away in guilt, "...You catch on quick."


    Of course, Cecil wouldn''t let anything come out. And if this woman had been snooping too close to the truth, it was no wonder she had been jailed already. A sudden realisation caused Arabella to shoot her eyes open and cry out in desperation, "Wait! Please, don''t let Cecil know anything about them hiring you!" Realising she had yelled, she tried her best to calm herself before continuing, brows furrowed as she pleaded. "...I know it''s a lot to ask. And I know Cecil will do anything to get the information out of you but- please. I beg you. Don''t say anything."


    "You don''t need to worry about that, I''ll be dead after tonight anyway," the woman laughed to herself. She seemed more inconvenienced than anything else about her approaching death. The woman turned again to face Arabella, her brown eyes shining with a devious glow. Her lips pulled up into a dangerous smirk. "Contrary to popular belief, there is honour among thieves. If that psycho is going to kill me, I''m going out laughing."


    Arabella''s eyes widened at the woman''s resolve. With how determined she was, it seemed she truly wasn''t scared of death. She believed her. She could picture it so perfectly, the woman''s short brown hair flowing in the wind, framing the mocking smile on her face as she looked down at Cecil, taking control away from him till the very end. The idea appealed to her. If Arabella was going to die by his hand, she wasn''t going to let him enjoy it either. She wouldn''t give him the satisfaction.


    For the first time in months, she let a small smile spread across her lips. As weak as it was, it was the most emotion she could muster, "...Thank you..." She paused realising she hadn''t gotten the stranger''s name.


    "Katherine," The woman aimed a warm smile her way. "It''s been a long time since I told someone my real name. I know. It doesn''t suit me."


    It suited her fine enough. Arabella gave her a rueful smile, mustering her earnest gratitude from the bottom of her heart, "...Thank you, Katherine."


    <hr>


    She had been telling the truth. The next day she was gone.


    As Arabella sat on the small table across from Winter, it seemed her silence hadn''t gone unnoticed. The woman, took a drag from her cigarette, raising a brow at the bead of nervous sweat that rolled down the girl''s cheek. She smirked, "I don''t bite, Miss Lockhart."


    Arabella swallowed hard and pinched herself under the table. She had to snap out of it, she couldn''t get caught up in the past like that. Taking a deep breath, she forced a slight smile on her face and met Winter''s brown eyes, "Forgive me... I just remembered something. Shall we begin?"


    The woman only raised her brow higher at that but shrugged off the comment, moving on to the next topic, "I''m here to listen, not talk." She smirked and leaned forward slightly. "You''re lucky to receive a meeting with me, don''t waste my time. What''s your angle?"


    Winter was straightforward, just like back then. Arabella disguised the frown on her lips with a confident-looking mask, "I''m... I''m here for your services. Specifically, I want you to help me gather information. And not just once, I''ll be requiring your help for the coming years."


    Winter gave a smug look and scoffed, tapping her cigarette holder to clear the ash, "My prices are steep, my dear. Even for a noble, it''s not something that comes easy."


    "Money is no issue, I have my own plans on how to make enough to afford this so rest assured you would be compensated," Arabella crossed her hands over each other, sitting up straight as she spoke confidently. "And this is something that is between us. Not the Lockhart name as a whole, only me. So, whatever I ask of you and whatever you do has no links to anyone else."


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    A tense silence settled between them. Arabella began to sweat slightly as Winter''s scrutinising gaze burned through her skull. With one exhale of smoke, a smirk spread on her red lips. The brunette suddenly narrowed her eyes, "...Ah, this is why I hate dealing with nobles." Arabella blinked in surprise as Winter began to mock her with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You think you can just throw money at something and that''s all that matters to get what you want? Your world may work like that, but here, life is more complicated. I''ve met beggars with better pitches." Leaning forward in her seat, Winter pointed the long cigarette holder at her to solidify her point. "So, I''ll ask again. What''s your pitch? What can you offer me?"


    The woman''s challenging gaze put Arabella on edge, unable to look away. She was somewhat right, most of Arabella''s problems had usually been solved through her family''s money. Her brows furrowed at the realisation of how shallow she must have come off. She wouldn''t have that. Standing in her seat, Arabella slammed her hands to the table and returned Winter''s sharp stare with an equally determined one, "I''m offering you justice. I''m offering you the chance to tear down a good-for-nothing pig who deserves what''s coming to him for what he did. He''ll rot in hell. I''ll do anything to make sure of that." Her passionate outburst seemed to do little to convince Winter, though she did raise an intrigued brow. Swallowing nervously, Arabella continued. "Katherine, if you only knew. You''d understand."


    At last, Winter''s face morphed into shock, "How-"


    "I''m not stupid or careless. And I''m not going to lie down and take any attacks on me without fighting back," Arabella felt her tone growing angrier than she needed. This wasn''t how things were supposed to go, not even close. She screwed up and got emotional. With a defeated sigh, she got up from her seat and made her way to the door, pulling her cloak over her head and throwing a serious look over her shoulder to the stunned Winter. "So, decide for yourself if I''m someone worth dealing with. We can talk more then. But for now, remember not to take me too lightly. I''ll wait for your response."


    <hr>


    Alone in the room, Katherine was left speechless as the door slammed shut. Arabella Lockhart, the earldom''s tiny terror, seemed to be plotting something dangerous. Slowly, a smile crept onto the woman''s ruby-red lips until she threw her head back in laughter, "Haha! Miss Lockhart, you''re a riot!" She slapped her hand on the solid wood table and let her laughter simmer into an amused chuckle to herself. "Ha. Jesus, Al. I can''t believe you were right."


    Taking a final drag of her soon-dead cigarette, Katherine finally put it out and exhaled the smoke letting the scent linger around her. With this, she was officially convinced, she was about to make the deal of the century.


    <hr>


    "How did it go?"


    Alistair followed Arabella who had already begun storming out of the building with a frustrated expression on her face. His violet eyes eagerly followed her speed-walking form and she tried her best to block him out of her line of sight, "I don''t want to talk about it." Arabella pulled her cloak tighter against her form against the cold night air and furrowed her brows. "I just want to go home."


    Surprised, Alistair rightly decided not to pursue the matter. He simply nodded and followed her quick strides towards the Hansom Cab service, obediently. The trip seemed to be for nought though, as upon reaching the building, Arabella searched through her pockets in despair, "I was robbed!" She turned to Alistair, who didn''t seem all too surprised at the fact, and gaped. "Did you see anyone pickpocket me?"


    He sent her an incredulous look, "I meant to say it earlier but... Wearing a fancy cloak like that? I wouldn''t be surprised if it happened in the pub."


    Arabella grimaced. The night couldn''t get any worse...


    Noticing her exasperated look, Alistair smiled encouragingly, his smile shining like the sun, "Don''t worry, the walk to the estate doesn''t seem as long as you''d think."


    She sent him an even more exasperated look. The night got worse.


    <hr>


    Silently, Alistair and Arabella walked side by side down the long carriage path, lit only by stark white moonlight. She wasn''t going to say it aloud, but she felt a little childish for complaining about the walk earlier. For someone like her who was used to carriage rides everywhere, she now felt dramatic for complaining about a 20-minute stroll. Though, she still kicked herself for being so thoughtless. Nothing but the sound of their footsteps filled the silence on the path, leaving Arabella with time to think.


    Her memory of Katherine in the prison cell returned. Back then she had called Alistair, ''Al'' and looked so sorrowful when she did. That reaction didn''t seem to match the story Alistair gave of meeting her on the night he hired her. It seemed as though they were on close terms back then, somehow. But, Arabella wasn''t sure if the same applied in this timeline. She couldn''t shake the feeling that she had been played, somewhat. She sighed. There was no use in making accusations right now, though.


    Arabella peeked from the corner of her eye at Alistair, who also seemed lost in his own thoughts. A pensive look clouded his violet eyes as he walked, barely paying attention to the path before him and his pink lips brought into a firm frown. He looked strangely adult when he wasn''t plastering a smile on his face, even now. Again, she was reminded of that melancholy expression of his, the night they met on the balcony. They didn''t know each other for long, but it became more and more evident that Alistair seemed to be wearing a mask around her. The realisation frustrated her, but she had no right to be mad. She hadn''t earned his trust after all, that much was obvious. Even if they were working together, there was a clear wall between them that she wasn''t sure of how to break. Or if she wanted to break that wall at all.


    A slight misstep caused Arabella to audibly wince. She grimaced, looking down at her feet and cursing her shoe choice. Her lace-up boots were not ideal for walking long distances at all. The slight heel was not good on her feet; She would surely be sore tomorrow. Alistair turned at the sound of her pained hiss and faced her, having been pulled out of his train of thought. At the sight of her glaring at her feet, he made the connection and joked, "Nice shoes."


    He was unfazed by her glare quickly being directed to him. Frowning, Arabella forced herself to stand straight and faced straight forward, "I''ll make it." She took a few more steps past him only to falter slightly and quickly give up. Embarrassed at her quick failure, she tried to save face and knelt to reach for her shoes. "Whatever! I''ll just take them off!"


    Amused, Alistair watched as she clumsily tried to unlace her boots, "You''re just going to end up worse that way."


    Arabella ignored him and grimaced, realising he was right. Giving up on her plan, she stood straight once more and frowned, determined to fare the rest of the trip. But she stopped in her tracks when he walked past her and knelt on the ground in front of her, arms out behind him. She squinted her eyes in confusion, "What are you doing?"


    Alistair looked up at her from over his shoulder and grinned, "It can''t be helped, so just hop on." She still didn''t seem to be catching on and so he rolled his eyes. "I used to get carried around like this when I was a kid. I''m offering to carry you."


    Finally understanding, Arabella frowned to hide her flustered expression. Usually, she would argue... But her feet were killing her. So, without a word, she climbed on Alistair''s back and bit back her shame. Even Alistair seemed to be caught off guard by the lack of snarky remarks. But quickly, he adapted to their new travelling arrangement with ease. Arabella couldn''t stop her mind from racing through her worries. Was she too heavy? Was he getting tired? Where should she put her hands? How tightly was she supposed to hold on? It was slowly becoming too much for her to handle. Nervously she spoke up, "I think I can make it the rest of the way so-"


    "With those shoes? You''re just going to slow us down to a snail''s pace," She couldn''t see his face, but even from his voice, Arabella could tell he was smiling and probably laughing at her. He hooked his hands even tighter under her legs, securing her from falling. "We''re almost there. And I''m not going to drop you."


    Silently, Arabella simply accepted the situation at last. It was an embarrassing position, and a bit vulnerable too. She was hyper-aware of everything all of a sudden. From the soft white hair tickling her cheek to the warmth radiating from Alistair''s back. She didn''t really want to get down... "Well, if you give up. Let me know."


    Again, she could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, "Your ''thank yous'' are phrased strangely."


    She smiled warmly at the comment, relieved that he couldn''t see her face at the moment.

 15. The Radical King

    Brushing his hair back and out of his eyes, Alistair squinted up at the Pub''s sign the following morning. The Hound undeniably had a very different atmosphere during the day and nighttime, a testament to Katherine''s skill in hiding in broad daylight. Getting out of the manor wasn''t as difficult a feat as he had expected. A charming grin to Olivia and a little white lie that he was going to visit some friends was all it took for her to kindly send him on his way.


    Entering the building, it already seemed to have some customers, despite the early hour. But he was here on business. He smiled at the bartender, a gruff bearded man named Griffin who grunted in recognition of the boy. Moving up the stairs, Alistair took the familiar path and opened the wooden door to find the person he was looking for lounging on a couch and sipping wine. He raised his brows in a judging manner, "Day drinking?"


    Katherine sat up, raising a brow and smiling though she seemed completely unashamed at the wine glass filled to the brim in her hand, "I own the place. I can drink whenever I want." He smiled at the woman and as she got up, she nodded for him to join her at the table.


    The two of them quickly made themselves comfortable and got to business. Alistair relaxed his face into a smug smile, "Do you still have any doubts?"


    Her brown eyes narrowed and she slowly sipped at her glass, "...I wasn''t expecting you to follow through, Alistair. When you told me that you had Arabella Lockhart working towards your cause, I thought you''d lost it." Katherine hummed in thought. "....But she''s different, you were right. And if you''re not careful, she''ll find out you played her."


    Alistair smiled though behind it hid a nervous interior. It was true, he lied to Arabella about not having met Katherine and even about the intention of making them meet. Winter had already accepted helping him and their history went back further than he first let on. What he really wanted was to prove to her that Arabella Lockhart was not a liability.


    Katherine continued, crossing her arms, "She knew my name, too. My real one. No idea how, unless you were the one who told her." Her tone held some suspicion towards the white-haired boy. "But that doesn''t sound like something you would have done..."


    Caught off guard, Alistair''s eyes widened. He hadn''t anticipated that. He was suddenly filled with a burning eagerness to find out how she knew, but the only conclusion would have to be something to do with the other timeline. He would have to drop that. Katherine''s suspicious gaze brought him back to the present moment and he forced a smile onto his face again. Though, Katherine wasn''t someone who was easily fooled. He had not told her about his return to the past, nor was he intending to, but she seemed to quickly catch on that he had been acting differently since his mother died. He was careful not to stray too far from what his 14-year-old self behaved like, if not with a bit more proactive ambition, hoping that Katherine would chalk it up to a shock reaction. Yet even his most award-winning smiles failed to satiate her.


    Huffing, Katherine simply shrugged, her signal that she was bored of trying to get an answer out of him and closed her eyes as she spoke, "I know you''re good at keeping your cards close. But even I can tell you haven''t told that girl any real details about your plans."


    "Of course not," Alistair absentmindedly pinched at the tuft of white hair that had fallen into his line of sight with slightly darkening eyes. "She has her own personal reasons for joining me. And it could complicate things if she knew." He propped his chin in his palm as he spoke, calmly, but there was an evident fire in his violet eyes. "I know my ideas are... radical."


    "Only to the aristocracy," Katherine smirked. She placed her glass down and dramatically swiped at the air as if presenting a title, "I can already see it in the history books. ''The Radical King''. Alistair Aurum De Villiers- The bastard who revolutionised Aurumia."


    He liked the sound of that. Alistair hid a smirk behind his fist, "You''re exaggerating."


    Katherine squinted playfully at him, "You''re too smart for your own good. Too confident too," Her fingers reached once more for her glass and she took a sip before looking down at the red liquid wistfully. "Since the day Trisha showed up here with you on her back, I knew you''d make something of yourself. But... Ha, even I couldn''t have guessed you''d go so far as to take the throne. Poor woman, she raised a son with some kind of death wish."


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    Alistair''s eyes gleamed as he smiled, "Did you drink too much? You''re sounding oddly sentimental, Katherine."


    She rolled her eyes at him, "I''m no lightweight. This is nothing, kid. " Finishing off the final sips of wine left in her tall glass, she sighed in satisfaction before frowning slightly. Alistair watched, confused as Katherine grew somewhat solemn. After a while, she faced him, her brown eyes hardening dangerously as her tone grew serious. "...You''d do just fine staying like this, Al. Arabella can be dealt with, I can make sure she doesn''t say a word about your identity."


    Alistair let his expression drop for a moment at Katherine''s sincerity. Deep down, part of him felt terrible about how things went in the other timeline. Alistair had accepted his own death, but he was certain that Katherine would have blamed herself in some way. Even back then, convincing her to help him get into the palace was not easy. She was clearly very aware that his entering the palace would end up being dangerous, one way or another. Maybe she was right about his death wish. But, he owed it to her not to let things end up the same way.


    Alistair beamed at her, "I know you don''t make bets you can''t win. So think of this as an investment for the biggest bet of your life." He pointed to himself and winked. "It''s like a fixed match. We''re changing the odds in our favour with a bit of preparation and cheating."


    He smiled in relief when his analogy seemed to put Katherine somewhat at ease. The woman smirked, "Spoken like a true criminal... I''ll remain in your corner."


    <hr>


    Leaving the bar, Alistair took a deep breath of fresh air, drawing in the sights and sounds of the Lockhart Earldom. The familiar streets were a comfort to him, the buildings and landmarks etched into his memory from years of living there. He had always considered it a beautiful place to call home and now was no different. From the things he had witnessed as he travelled with his mother, trying to find somewhere to settle, it was one of few places in Aurumia where the people were put first. Epidemics, droughts, rainstorms, hail - Within the Earldom it was all dealt with by the Lockharts. It was the bare minimum a Lord of the land could do, Alistair was aware of that. But even that minimum was not met elsewhere.


    Alistair knew that he and his mother had gotten lucky, being able to settle somewhere like this. It was a feeling that he would carry with him always, and one that he would use to inspire his own aspirations. As grateful as he was to call this place home...


    There was nothing he hated more than a life controlled by pure luck.


    A country where someone''s life was decided by the family they were born into, where your livelihood hung in the balance of whether or not a noble''s heir was benevolent enough to care about their citizens. A place where the people making decisions were the very people who wouldn''t even comprehend life outside of a gilded mansion. He hated it. He hated even more that the bloodline he was born into was made to perpetuate it.


    He owed it to the people, to the entire country, to take advantage of his status as King''s bastard to force change. One way or another, the aristocracy and the crown would not remain as powerful as they were now if he had anything to do with it. Even if that included the few that had done well for the country.


    As he turned a corner, Alistair caught sight of the Lockhart family crest on a nearby building. The familiar deep blue roses entrapped within the golden outline served as a reminder of the responsibility that came with their position. His eyes lowered in thought as he walked.


    Arabella was one of his few lifelines in this second chance he had received. And Alistair was certain that there must have been a deeper reason as to why the both of them had turned back to the past at once. But even so, he was walking a tight line in relying on her. At the end of the day, regardless of her desire for vengeance, Arabella Lockhart was a member of the aristocracy and was raised to uphold that aspect of her identity. She had a pride that he could tell was integral to who she was.


    The possibility that Arabella finding out about his plans would turn her against him wasn''t unlikely.


    It wasn''t guaranteed. But, her decision relied on what was stronger: Her desire for revenge against Cecil, or her desire to uphold her family''s power. She couldn''t have both. And he was a little more than afraid of what she would choose.


    Alistair audibly sighed in an exaggerated manner, startling a few people who were walking the same street. His white brows furrowed at the troublesome thoughts. He wasn''t one to worry so much about these details, he preferred to dive right into whatever he planned to do. But with Arabella, that was difficult. She was cautious to act unless she knew for certain what the outcome may be, it was a little frustrating if he was honest. Though, that trait may have just been something she had developed as an effect of her death.


    As selfish as it was, he couldn''t help but have the slightest hope that Arabella may choose to support him in the end. But logic wasn''t on his side. And so, he would have to continue to operate within a narrow line, relying on her desire for vengeance to his own advantage.


    It would have to remain his own secret.

 16. Sacrifice

    Arabella was sure of it for certain now. Alistair was playing her.


    When Olivia had approached her that morning asking to join her for breakfast, she reluctantly agreed to please her having become accustomed to taking her meals alone. But at the brief mention that Alistair had gone to visit some ''friends'' in town, it had become very blatant. Whatever he was doing, she didn''t care much for. But, for him to have to hide it from her after she had gone out of her way to be candid with him was like a spit in the face. Her pride would not allow it.


    Though, she had more important matters to deal with at the moment. Primarily the fact that Olivia had failed to drop her insistence that Layton should drop everything to finish his schooling. Arabella tore at a baked good with her fingers and popped it into her mouth with a bothered expression as her older sister ranted.


    "It''s the principle of it, Arabella," Olivia, who at this point had just been repeating the same points, finished her speech with bold confidence. "My conscience couldn''t live with any other outcome."


    This was becoming a little bit too much even for Arabella, now. To think that simply crying once in front of Olivia had slowly snowballed into them becoming comfortable enough to act like this.


    Arabella finally interrupted calmly, "There''s nothing you can do to force him to go. Besides, I believe everything may work out in the end." Or at least they did in the other timeline if her memory served her correctly. Things ran smoothly, Layton devoted himself to his work and the world still spun. Even if she saw less of him back then than she normally would, he seemed to be doing... fine? She picked up her teacup and sent her sister a genuine look. "If anything you have said to him now hasn''t worked, then I don''t think there is anything else that can be done."


    Olivia''s blue eyes lowered solemnly to her own cup as she squeezed it in her hands. Arabella bit her cheek, feeling some guilt, but she really was just saying the truth.


    "Wait," Olivia''s sudden change in demeanour startled Arabella slightly. The girl darted her eyes back upwards and they glimmered as if she had a great epiphany. "You''re right. Nothing I have said to him has worked." Olivia smiled mischievously at her younger sister.


    Catching on, Arabella sighed. At this point, there was no point in even fighting it. Layton wouldn''t be convinced no matter which of his sisters harassed him. If going to him would get Olivia to drop the topic then so be it.


    <hr>


    "Did Olivia send you?"


    Arabella had barely stepped foot into the room after knocking before Layton''s straightforwardness had knocked her around the head. She blinked in surprise before smoothing her dress and entering the study, shutting the door behind her, "H-How did you know?"


    "She was here not long ago, herself," Layton sighed. He sat up in his seat and placed down his pen. From the looks of it, he was managing funds for the household with a scrutinising eye. "I already said no. You''re free to leave."


    Arabella hummed in thought. Of course, it went exactly as she thought it would. But seeing him working right now sent an uneasy feeling to her stomach all of a sudden. She sat at the seat opposite him at the oak desk, "Did you sleep? Or eat?"


    "A decent amount."


    She wasn''t convinced. His green eyes looked haggard and there were dark circles forming. She let her gaze fall to the household funds he had distracted himself with and frowned. Was he just going over the same things over and over again? Just from looking at it with the limited knowledge of economics and management, she had been reading, everything looked fine.


    Come to think of it, he had attendants for these sorts of things, it wasn''t his job. He was just supposed to issue orders and double-check things were running smoothly. She let her mind run back to the last time she had seen the family accountant even enter the manor and couldn''t remember.


    Perhaps... things weren''t as fine as she had initially thought.


    Now that she was actually here and not watching from afar, it looked more like he was using work as an excuse to distract himself than actually working towards anything in particular as she had thought initially. Her barely seeing him around in the other timeline, suddenly felt much more morbid too. Arabella''s eyebrows furrowed, "...I agree with you, by the way."


    Layton looked up, brows knitted in confusion, "...You do?"


    "Yeah..." Arabella took note of his reaction and folded her hands in her lap as she stared back at him. "It makes the most logical sense for you to drop out of the academy."


    Despite his carefully crafted stoicism, Layton''s conflict was evident in the way his hand fidgeted at nothing. He hummed in acknowledgement, "Thank you for seeing that."


    "But just because it is the logical choice, doesn''t make it the right one," Arabella couldn''t even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. But her bad habit of speaking before she could think began to rear its ugly head. She frowned at her brother, almost scoldingly. "You''ll regret it. Even if it is what should be done, I know you''ll regret it. All of those years of hard work gone to waste." And then a troublesome thought came to the forefront of her mind. Arabella frowned even harder and clenched her fists. "...Don''t make sacrifices for me."


    Layton''s eyes widened in shock, "I''m not sacrificing anything."


    "Yes, you are," she had felt something like this in the other timeline, but she had buried the feeling deep down. The feeling that she was being babied by him. "If you saw me as competent you''d be able to leave things to me. But your need to babysit me makes you sacrifice things. I don''t want to be responsible for your sacrifices."


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    "I''m not...!" Layton paused after he had let out an outburst and quickly calmed himself and sighed. "I''m not sacrificing anything because of you, Arabella. This is all because... it is my duty."


    What a bold-faced liar. Arabella glared at him, "If it was because of duty, you would have sent the letter by now. " This seemed to finally catch him. She crossed her arms. "We both know it''s still there in your drawer. Let me guess, you thought something like ''my family needs me'' and used that to justify making yourself miserable."


    Layton finally seemed to look the slightest bit guilty and she knew she had hit the nail on the head. Her brother clenched and unclenched his jaw in the silence that had settled between them as he seemed to search for what to say next. At last, he cautiously spoke and avoided eye contact, "...I''m not miserable."


    "Could have fooled me..." Arabella uncrossed her arms and felt a heavy guilt weigh her down even though there was something cathartic about finally saying it. She lowered her eyes to her lap as she spoke. "...I know that I''ve been burdensome in the past. But I''ve made an effort to change that now. And if you can''t see that..."


    She paused when she noticed her brother take off his glasses and place them on the table. He clasped his hands together and sent her a firm stare. In that instance, Arabella was suddenly reminded of her father and was taken aback by how much Layton looked like him. Suspecting a scolding, she quickly bit her tongue.


    "...Have I ever called you a burden?" Layton''s tone was sharp, and even if Arabella felt herself grow nervous, inside she could sense he didn''t mean any harm. She struggled to answer, not able to recount any time in which he had done so. At her silence, Layton sighed and rubbed at his temple. "Maybe... your assessment of my reasons was right. But is it wrong for me to sacrifice things for you?" His green eyes fixed on her in a sincere manner. "We''re blood. It''s my responsibility."


    In a split second, Arabella finally understood Olivia''s feelings. She focused on her brother and spoke, "...Thank you. Both you and Olivia. I can always rely on you both..." Even when no one else was there and she suffered alone. Sentimentality warmed her chest. Not everyone was lucky enough to have family that loved them unconditionally, she was blessed to have hers. She''d never forget that ever again. "...But sacrifice should go both ways. So at least let me do this one thing."


    Layton paused for a long while and inspected the earnest look in Arabella''s blue eyes. He looked down in thought before muttering, "...3 months alone isn''t easy."


    "I won''t be alone. I''ll have Aubrey with me. As well as all the other staff, too."


    "...Maybe so, but all of that work-"


    "I''ll make use of your attendants," Arabella sat up straight and nodded her head. "Besides, I''ve been studying hard in my free time. Enough for me to be able to handle at least some of the workload alone."


    The most minuscule of smiles made its way onto Layton''s face, "...I suppose there''s nothing more to say, then."


    Arabella sat back in surprise when Layton got out of his seat and made his way towards her. In a gentle motion, he rested a hand on her head in a strange display of affection. Arabella looked up in confusion, but couldn''t help but feel endeared at the foreign gesture, unsure of how to react. Nervously she asked, "So are you going...?"


    He huffed but his small smile widened slightly, "Enjoy your time as the acting Countess Lockhart. I''ll return before you know it."


    <hr>


    The surreal events of that day clouded Arabella''s mind the following morning as she walked through the halls. It was confirmed: Layton was heading to the academy with Olivia by the end of the week and the frantic behaviour of the house staff was a testament to that. She couldn''t help but feel a little bad watching people scurry to pack for an extra person on such short notice all because of her.


    Nothing significant would change this time around, just by having Layton finish his schooling. But seeing how at ease he seemed, made it feel worth it. Even if this wouldn''t affect her bigger plans of revenge, it was a worthwhile investment of her time to help her brother. She smiled to herself. She was glad she got involved.


    Layton''s words stuck with her. He owed his care for her to their status as a family, but she knew well enough that sharing blood with someone doesn''t guarantee love. It is an active effort to love, but it wasn''t something that was guaranteed. She was blessed to be given a family that put in that effort. Many were not born as lucky. After all, Cecil and Alistair were also half-siblings and... she didn''t need to explain her point beyond that.


    Even now... Arabella didn''t know if she truly loved Cecil or if she was simply attached to him back then. But no one could deny that she had made her best effort to love him, even if it was taken for granted. As much as it pained her to think, she could thank him for making one thing concrete: She would never give her love to anyone who didn''t deserve it, ever again. And for those who had earned her love, she would put her wholehearted effort into reciprocating it.


    Rapid footsteps approached from behind and before Arabella could turn she was engulfed in a hug from behind, a familiar flowery perfume filling the air. Olivia''s overjoyed laugh filled the halls as she picked up her younger sister and spun her with a strength that Arabella had no idea she possessed, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"


    "P-Put me down!" Arabella could feel herself begin to grow queasy.


    Olivia obliged and quickly set her down as asked, though her wide ear-to-ear grin remained. Cupping the younger girl''s face in her hands, she beamed, "Thank you, Arabella."


    Arabella felt embarrassment grow within her at being babied. Though she was still secretly bewildered at the strength Olivia had shown. Despite it all, she couldn''t stop a smile from spreading to her own face, "It was nothing. But it''s up to you to look out for him at the academy, now. Heaven knows no one else will."


    Laughing, Olivia let her go and brushed down her skirt, "You''d be surprised. Our brother is actually somewhat popular."


    A genuine look of shock made its way onto Arabella''s features. She spoke with evident scepticism, "...Him? Are we thinking of the same person?"


    The anti-social nerd she was picturing didn''t fit what Olivia had just told her. She always imagined that Layton''s days at the academy were spent locked away in his room, with his only friends being books. The very idea that he was popular was baffling.


    "Trust me, I was surprised too," Olivia shrugged nonchalantly but spoke with amusement. "But apparently, that''s what''s popular with the ladies these days. It eludes me."


    Giving it some thought, Arabella did recall plenty of novels with aloof, dark-haired loners as their leads (Though they often tended to be Dukes). But using those words to describe Layton was... being generous. As much as she loved her brother, she still believed it was his attitude that prevented him from forming an engagement in the other timeline.


    Arabella was dragged away from mentally making fun of Layton when Olivia''s expression shifted into a relieved smile, "Regardless of all that. I''m really grateful for whatever you said to bring him to his senses. All of that guilt that was building up inside me... It''s thanks to you that I can let it go." Olivia pulled her into a tender hug. "I didn''t think you''d go so far for me too."


    In the midst of the hug, Arabella felt herself become overwhelmed with sudden memories of the other timeline. She frowned and put her arms around her sister, "Will you write to me?"


    Olivia seemed taken aback by the question, "Why wouldn''t I?"


    Because it was Arabella''s fault they never spoke in the other timeline. Her own abrasiveness was what caused her to turn her family away. She would miss Olivia terribly if things went the same way, "...I don''t know. Just promise."


    Olivia''s blue eyes warmed as she smiled sweetly, stepping back, "Of course. I didn''t think you''d care much for my letters, but if you insist."


    Satisfied with her answer, Arabella smiled.

 17. Made for a King

    Olivia walked through the Royal Academy''s gardens with her books in hand, squinting up at the sun. The middle of spring brought warmer weather, and she felt relieved to be back at school to enjoy it. It had been two weeks since they had left home, and her studies had been faring well without the guilt of leaving her brother behind. Even if he was too busy preparing for the approaching final examinations to hang out with her, she was pleased to see him thriving.


    "Lady Olivia, good morning."


    The soft-spoken voice coming from behind her, caused Olivia to blink owlishly before turning. At the mere sight of unmissable long pink hair, she immediately rushed into a polite curtsey and bowed her head in respect, "L-Lady Yvette! Good morning to you!"


    Yvette Salvatore smiled endearingly at the gesture and brushed her bangs out of her warm rose-coloured eyes, "There is no need to be so on edge, we''re in the same year, after all." A girlish giggle left her lips. "I just wanted to greet you properly, since you''ve been away for so long."


    "Oh, is that so?" Olivia laughed at herself, fidgeting with the hem of her uniform''s skirt self-consciously. "Thank you, for considering me, my lady."


    Olivia felt exceedingly inferior in the presence of the Ducal daughter. A mixture of admiration and inadequacy churned in her stomach as she tried her best to smile brightly at the flawless girl. Yvette Salvatore was without a doubt a cut above the rest, carrying an aura of being unapproachable, despite the gentle aura that followed her.


    With the pleasantries having been exchanged, Yvette spoke sweetly and her eyes softened, "It is a pleasure to see you back at the academy, Lady Olivia, your presence was truly missed. If you ever need some guidance, please do not hesitate to come to me."


    Olivia forced down a gasp and instead beamed, nervously brushing back her brunette locks, "Thank you! Of course-"


    "I do hope I''m not interrupting anything important." At the silky smooth voice approaching the both of them, Olivia could no longer hold back the gasp that had been lying in wait. She instantly rushed to cover her mouth with a hand, causing the imposing figure to laugh gently. "Forgive me for interrupting you both, Lady Yvette, and Lady Olivia."


    Quickly grabbing the hem of her skirt, Olivia dipped into another curtsy, "Greetings, your highness!"


    A gentlemanly smile extended across Prince Cecil''s visage. Even wearing the same uniform as everyone else, it seemed to suit him like armour. His straight hair shined like gold in the sunlight, it was almost blinding. Olivia couldn''t quite ignore the overwhelming pressure that enveloped her at being in the presence of not one, but two towers of social standing.


    Too entranced by Cecil''s aura, Olivia failed to notice the slight twitch in Yvette''s eye as she turned and gave a smooth curtsy to the prince, "...Your highness."


    Cecil hardly acknowledged her and focused his kind smile on Olivia, "It is a pleasure to see your safe return, my lady." His lips quickly morphed into a sympathetic frown, however, as his speech softened. "I apologise for not giving my condolences in person sooner. Ishir Lockhart was a good man."


    Olivia''s eyes lowered slightly at the mention of her father, smiling wistfully, "The letters of condolence sent by The Royal Family were more than enough." She sent him an earnest smile. "Your words were very heartfelt, your highness. My father would have been honoured to hear them."


    "I''m pleased to hear that my emotions reached you, Lady Olivia," Cecil let his lips rise into a smile once more. "I was surprised to see that your brother returned with you to the academy."


    "Ah, yes. That is all thanks to my little sister, your highness," A genuine prideful smile spread across Olivia''s lips. "If not for her taking care of matters back home, Layton would not be here."


    Cecil''s brows raised slightly in intrigue, "Is that right? I will have to make a point of meeting your sister someday, then. I''m sure she is as pleasant as you, Lady Olivia." His eyes seemed to glint at an opportunity that had arisen. "In fact, getting a hold of your brother during this turbulent time is understandably inconvenient with exams around the corner. It''s been a long time since I have stepped foot within the Lockhart earldom, so please pass the message on that I shall visit after his graduation." Too stunned to respond, Olivia gawked as Cecil finally turned his attention to Yvette who had taken to staring holes into the side of his head. He held out his arm and smiled. "Now, please excuse us. I did intend to come here in search of Lady Yvette. We shall take our leave."


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    Olivia watched awe-struck as Yvette silently took his arm and they both walked away. How would she explain this to Layton? He would never believe her. Speed walking back to her dorm room, an excited smile spread across her face. She would have to write to Arabella about it as soon as she could.


    <hr>


    "...Which servant did you make write that letter, I wonder."


    Yvette spoke straightforwardly, a sarcastic lilt to her voice as she walked beside Cecil.


    He said nothing, giving her the answer she expected, but that serene smile of his was glued to his face like a mask. Finally, he glanced down at her and spoke calmly, "I''ve been meaning to forge a proper introduction with Layton Lockhart. He has been near unapproachable since his father fell ill, but it seems as though the family is in better spirits. I''d like to get closer to the new Earl."


    A humourless laugh left Yvette''s lips and she narrowed her pink eyes at him, "What did you need from me? I''d prefer not to be around you longer than need be."


    Cecil stopped walking. Cautious, Yvette came to her own abrupt stop and turned to face him. His expression remained calm, though the words that left his mouth caused Yvette to freeze, "...The Queen is bedridden. No one knows yet, but I suspect she is terminally ill."


    As she processed the news, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. In deep thought she spoke hesitantly, "...Are you telling the truth?" Cecil gave a curt nod. She pressed her fingers over her mouth as she raced back through her memories for the last time she had seen Queen Frances in person. It was true, she had looked worse for wear, but she would have never expected a terminal illness.


    "The news reached me this morning from one of her ladies in waiting," He extended a ''gracious'' smile her way. "I thought it would be best for my future fiance to hear it in person. You''ll be taking her position soon enough, after all."


    A flash of fury burned in her eyes as she turned her nose up at him, "You have the gall to call me your future fiance when you refuse to make a proposal-" She quickly stopped herself as she noticed a group of people begin to pass by and quickly fixed a sweet smile on her face, looking up lovingly at Cecil. She held out her hand towards the prince who raised his brows in amusement but took the signal to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. She glanced back to the passing group through long pink lashes and felt appeased at the envious looks sent their way. She continued, though her hushed tone was not as sweet as her smile. "...You may have my father in the palm of your hand with all those promises of yours. But I am not to be trifled with, your highness."


    "Must we go through this again, my dear Yvette?" Cecil''s collected mask didn''t falter even at her threat. That calm smile of his was slowly starting to grow uncanny. "My mother doesn''t show signs of recovery. You will have your proposal and wedding when I am King."


    "Empty words," Yvette scoffed at him, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine as she snatched her hand back. "She hasn''t even named you her official heir, and you want me to waste my youth waiting for you?" A wide smirk made itself onto her face and she narrowed her eyes at him in challenge. "If I wanted, I could have the King of Nyotari begging for my hand-"


    She froze at the subtle shift in Cecil''s expression. His serene smile remained unchanging, but his eyes broke the illusion. Cecil''s purple eyes glinted coldly in warning and bore straight through Yvette, unblinkingly. She hesitated to speak, nervously taking a strand of long pink hair between her fingers to calm herself. To onlookers, this was a warm exchange but up close, those icy eyes of his gave away his true disdain as he leaned forward, leaving their faces only inches apart. "...I dislike haughty women." Yvette stared back, not wanting to relent. To her frustration, another group began to pass and she painted a smile on her face through gritted teeth. Cecil''s eyes seemed to light up in amusement at her commitment. He reached out a cold hand to graze her cheek, a motion that left her biting her tongue while the onlookers swooned. "Play your part. Sit pretty. Wait for my mother to die. It''s that simple." He lowered his voice to a mocking whisper. "You can do that much, can''t you?"


    Yvette didn''t care much for Cecil''s true nature, for it would be worth it in the end when she had a ring on her left hand and a crown on her head. She glanced down, instinctively to her woefully empty ring finger with some disdain but forced a smile on her face when she looked back into Cecil''s purple eyes. It wasn''t like she was in love with him, after all. Marrying for love was something made for those willing to lose their place in society. She was no fool.


    Bowing into the perfect curtsy, Yvette made herself the picture of elegance. With her warmest smile she ended the conversation, "...Until next time, Prince Cecil."


    Walking away, she flipped her long pink hair behind her. Fighting back the rage burning inside her was difficult, but with all these eyes on her, she would persist. Long deep breaths, head high, shoulders back, calm and composed. Walking with her head held high, she was the picture of gentle queenly grace. She could already hear the murmurs as she passed.


    "She looks like something out of a painting..."


    "She will be a force to be reckoned with when she debuts...."


    "It''s only a matter of time before she becomes a princess..."


    Her chest puffed hearing the admiration of her future subjects. How they looked up to her, how they wished to be her. It was all so gratifying.


    From her family name to her clothing, her figure, and her hair. From the elegance that radiated from her to the carefully crafted words of flattery that charmed those around her. All of it was bred for her ascendance as the most glorious woman in the Kingdom.


    She would become Queen; There was no one who could possibly doubt that Yvette Salvatore was a woman made for a King.

 18. Trust

    Arabella absentmindedly ran her hand over the crate filled with precious cargo as she listened to the ship captain drone on. The cargo was in the process of being secured in wagons on their way to the capital as she had organised. The captain''s voice faded into the background as she admired the quality of silks and spices from Nyotari all tightly packed away within.


    Her eyes flowed to the sea stretching out from afar as she brushed her hair back from the wind. The breakwaters would soon need maintenance to withstand the waves. How much would that cost? She furrowed her brows trying to figure it out.


    "...Not to mention our issue regarding those bandits-"


    "Bandits?" Arabella looked up at the old man, snapping back to reality. She pulled out her notebook from her pocket and flipped to a clear page. "What was that about bandits?"


    The old man scratched at his chin as he spoke, "There''s not much that can be done, milady, and it is an issue affecting all those travelling between the earldom and capital." She pulled out a pencil and urged him to continue anyway with a look. The captain coughed and obliged. "They lie in wait on the popular path somewhere near the exit of the earldom, and then they strike. They can''t be predicted, but a few of our wagons have been hit."


    "Has anyone been hurt?"


    "Earl Lockhart has heard of the matter and has offered protection in the form of some more officers at the exit, but it hasn''t changed much. Those involved have been reimbursed accordingly."


    That seemed... troubling. But meddling with highwaymen was not ideal. Regardless, she had an appointment to attend, after which she could think things through more clearly.


    <hr>


    "I''m willing to help you both," Winter crossed one leg over the other as she faced Alistair and Arabella. Her finger tapped on the table as she spoke straightforwardly. "Information, Under-the-table deals, it''s all no problem for me to provide for a price. My services are varied, but I suspect the more... unlawful of them are not of interest." She laughed heartily and rested her cheek against her fist. "But please do remember, they''re not completely off the table."


    More unlawful? Arabella frowned to herself at the wake-up call that she was conversing with an experienced criminal right now. She would relent from asking what those ''more unlawful'' services were, for her own sake.


    Winter continued, "You know the drill. Ask me what you need, pay the price upfront at the bar, I''ll deliver what I can.  Just make sure I''m remembered when whatever your planning comes to fruition."


    "I have no intention of abandoning anyone who aids me," Alistair smiled, leaning back in his seat.


    A huff of amusement left Winter, "Then we''re in business. Welcome to my exclusive club of customers!"


    Arabella sighed, glad it was over with. The woman''s chipper exclamation was giving her a migraine. Both of them were lying to her about something, and she didn''t have the energy to deal with it. Getting up from her seat she frowned at the both of them, "If that''s all, I''ll be going. I''m a busy girl these days..."


    The both of them watched her leave without any argument. As the door came to a close and footsteps faded away, Alistair''s face fell into a frown of his own, facing Winter.


    "...I want to make an enquiry."


    The brunette smirked, leaning forward, "That was quick."


    Alistair crossed his arms and looked down in thought. Time was wasting as things were, he needed to move quickly if he wanted his idea to hold some ground, "I want you to find out about Queen Frances'' condition."


    Winter blinked in surprise. Then she raised an inquisitive brow, "That is... a difficult request. Getting close to anyone residing in the palace is one thing, getting close to the Queen herself is something else entirely."


    Alistair nodded, "I know. There''s no need to spy on the Queen directly though. There is sure to be someone outside of the palace whose heard talk about what she''s like in her chambers."


    Winter paused for a moment. Her lips stretched into a curious smile, "Is something going on with Queen Frances? How do you-" She stopped herself and shook her head sighing exasperatedly. "Almost forgot. You won''t spill, I''ll just have to find out for myself right?"


    "You''re catching on," Alistair grinned in response, causing the woman to scoff. He reached for his pockets. "As for payment I-"


    "The fee only applies to Arabella Lockhart. I don''t trust her enough," Winter shrugged with a smile. "For you, it''s on the house."


    Alistair''s violet eyes widened but he quickly recovered from his surprise through a grateful smile, "Katherine, thank you." She had already done a lot for him by providing lodging and care. He felt a little guilty asking her for anything at all when she had already done so much. Gesturing to himself, he sent a cautious glance her way. "...Would it be too much to ask you for.... one more favour?"


    <hr>


    "You''re a liar."


    Alistair jolted in surprise, mid-step, as he exited the pub. His eyes darted to his left, to find Arabella glaring at him from a spot against the wall. He quickly recovered, innocently tilting his head to the side, "...Did you wait outside this entire time for me?"


    Unamused, Arabella continued, "You probably did much more than just burying your mother in Nyotari. You found the time to cut a deal with Winter and look into whatever was going on in my family too. You''re probably close to her, right? You''re a liar."


    Alistair straightened his back, sighing. He''d been caught. Rustling a hand through his white hair, he tried to salvage the situation, "I didn''t lie, necessarily. I just didn''t say anything."


    Narrowing her blue eyes further, Arabella hissed, "That''s called lying by omission." She stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger his way. "You''re too secretive. And I don''t like being lied to."


    Alistair stared straight at her, unfazed by the pointing. His face contorted into somewhat of a guilty grimace. It was evident some heavy thoughts were churning in his mind as he hesitated to speak, "...It''s all for good reason."


    Arabella sent him an incredulous look. Was that all he had to say? She huffed and relented, turning her back to him, "...Fine. I''ve said my piece, you know where I stand. Until I''m ''worthy'' of seeing the full picture, only contact me when it''s necessary." If he wanted to keep her at arm''s length, so be it. She''d help him with that. "Goodbye."


    She walked away, leaving him in the dust.


    <hr>


    A lengthy two weeks passed after that incident, and Arabella regrettably had not heard from Alistair. She stood by what she had said, she would not tolerate being lied to or being locked out of the loop but... She frowned, leaning back in her seat, and staring up at the ceiling of the study. She had hoped that he would just give in afterwards at her ''threat''. Alistair was either very stubborn or truly had no intention of cooperating fully.


    But, dwelling on the matter had started to cause her distress and so she found better things to do. It had been her most productive week yet: She had collected tax, organised maintenance of roads and the docks, paid off all of the staff, and much more. It was almost getting hard to find something to keep herself busy, therefore, she decided to dedicate her free time to pursuing an idea that had been brewing in her head.


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    Arabella had set some boundaries she would not cross, one of those was spending her family''s or the Earldom''s funds on her personal grudge. Especially not on Winter''s services. And so, a week prior, she had sent a letter calling for a man by the name of Mattheo Reese- The owner of a small railway company in the East of Aurumia and the man that she would make successful to ensure her own success.


    Returning to the past had returned her to the centre of Aurumia''s sudden railway boom. With everyone rushing to invest their money into the company they believed would prevail in the new industry, it was a true free for all. Mattheo was not one of those who had succeeded, but he was a brilliant engineer who had his light stifled by overwhelming outside influence.


    If she was being entirely honest, the railway absolutely terrified Arabella and remained one of her unspoken fears. The idea of subjecting herself to a barrelling, high-speed, metal husk ride wasn''t fun. It made her queasy back then and it still did, so she had stuck to travelling by carriage like many others had. And her fears were not quelled by the constant news of rail accidents happening all over the country, caused by the recklessness of the various companies.  However, Mattheo''s company ''Eastern Coast Rail'', had amassed brief support for its safety and innovation, surviving as one of the few that had not experienced a single disaster. His company was the single rail line she could stomach travelling on.


    Despite all of that, the company had fizzled out and stopped operations before she even turned 16. Of course, Arabella did not know the man personally, but she had her theories. Mattheo was a commoner and running a railway line was costly, making investors a necessity. But, with the pressure of other emerging railway lines, all rushing their processes at the expense of safety in order to dominate the market, his process would be unappealing to his wealthy aristocratic investors. She was speculating, but with the way things turned out, he probably refused to bend to their influence and lost money.


    A firm knock on the door brought her back to the present moment.


    "Your guest has arrived, Lady Arabella."


    Aubrey''s voice called out from the other side. Arabella took a deep breath, before sitting up straight in her seat and forcing an amiable smile onto her face. She quickly cleared her throat and spoke in a chipper tone, "Please, bring him in!"


    The door gently opened by Aubrey''s hand and in stepped a tall and slightly confused-looking man. He removed his tophat a few more paces into the room, revealing a head of combed-back and greying black hair, as he bowed politely, "Lady Lockhart. It is an honour."


    "The honour is mine, Mr Reese, please take a seat."


    The door shut behind him and he raised his head, an unmissable quirk of confusion in his brows as he stared at the beaming young girl whose small frame was overtaken by the large furniture surrounding her. A heavy pressure hid behind his eyes as he dropped into the chair opposing Arabella. Mattheo broke their silence with careful speech, "Excuse me if I offend, my lady... but, I thought that I would be meeting with... Earl Lockhart?"


    "I''m not offended, it was a simple misunderstanding," Arabella beamed at the man. Of course, she signed off her letters with a simple ''Lockhart'' and counted on assumptions to get him to make the trip. Of course, now that he had made the trip for their meeting, it was on to the next order of business. "I''d like to get straight to what we discussed in our letters if that''s fine by you?"


    Mattheo seemed to clench his jaw in contemplation. Arabella wouldn''t have been surprised if he''d heard rumours about her, considering he resided not far from the earldom. That paired with the fact that she was a 14-year-old girl right now was sure to be contributing to his hesitance. She honestly wouldn''t blame him for walking away. She widened her smile in a silent plea for him to cooperate.


    Finally, Mattheo rose from his slight slouch and cleared his throat, "Uh... Yes. Let''s get to business." Arabella clenched her fist in victory under the table. Mattheo smiled uncertainly but remained professional. "Your interest in my locomotives is very flattering, my lady. I have put years of work into developing my railway line and I am humbled by your praise. But I.... simply cannot begin to comprehend where all of this is coming from." Mattheo pulled from a briefcase some of her letters and pointed to her writing with an almost bewildered look. "Are-Are you sure you intend to spend this much on my little company?"


    Just looking at the amount she had written down almost made Arabella recoil, just as she had done when she had initially written it- It was a year and a little more''s worth of her allowance. But she steeled herself and her smile never faltered, "Y...Yes. If you agree to accept it!" She took the letter from the table and pointed at the large sum herself. "I wouldn''t be so cruel as to bait you. The terms are simple, I, as an investor, receive a share of the profits in exchange. Along with another requirement."


    Mattheo visibly swallowed and his dark eyes widened in disbelief as he traced over the letter again as if to confirm it was real. He then flicked his eyes back to Arabella and questioned, "Another requirement?"


    Arabella nodded, "I want to fund a line connecting the Lockhart earldom to the capital. No other investors involved, just me." She tapped her chin absentmindedly as she spoke. "The land is yours to do your magic with. I trust your process."


    She gave a silent prayer that Layton would someday forgive her for using up land without permission.


    Mattheo stared at the girl in thought, "...That could be done, but it would take at the very least 2 years, my lady."


    "I''m willing to wait," Arabella replied.


    "Are you certain about that, my lady?" Mattheo spoke seriously and his dark brows furrowed. "Forgive me again if I offend, but I take my work very seriously. I fear that... you may view my company as some... plaything." Thinking back on his words, the older man backtracked slightly, shaking his head apologetically. "I apologise! What I meant was that I fear that there may be a catch here of sorts. It''s almost too good to be true and I''ve learned from experience that investors of your echelon can be... fickle."


    So her theory was at least somewhat true? Arabella hummed in acknowledgement of his worries. Her smile faded as she adopted a serious expression to remove any pretences that she was taking him lightly. Perhaps it was the wrong choice to greet him with all smiles. But, she was not someone who could be described as ''fickle'' and she needed to cement that, "I understand your concerns, but I assure you I respect your work. In all honestly...I''d rather walk for hours than board a train. I, myself, am not even your target demographic. ." She reached into the drawers to pull out the newspapers she had collected for the meeting and laid each one out before Mattheo. The headlines were clear as day and his expression grew troubled but familiar as he looked: ''Dreadful accident on the Western Rail'', ''Fatal engine failure in Salvatore duchy'', '' Derailing in the North''. Arabella frowned. "All of these people are and were. Not the nobility and wealthy land owners that can afford personal transport, but the common people."


    The man''s brows knitted in bewilderment as he met Arabella''s pointed gaze, "...Excuse me, but I fail to see your point."


    "I''m getting there," Arabella folded away the morbid papers and faced him head-on with a determined expression. "What I''m trying to say, is that you''re one of a handful of commoners trying to survive in the Railway market dominated by the wealthy. On top of that, I would say you''re more talented than any of the engineers they''ve hired. But that means very little with all of this competition going on, and so these accidents are bound to happen when amassing profits is the priority over a job well done. " She smiled as she noticed Mattheo eagerly listening to her speech. "It''s simple, and there''s no play involved. I support your company enough to compete fairly in the market while encouraging the expansion of safer, reliable railways. Then, I earn back the money I invested into doing so. I wouldn''t do such a thing if I believed you would fail or didn''t trust your abilities."


    Mattheo blinked owlishly as the room grew silent. Arabella waited, slightly anxious as the man slowly processed her words. Until, finally, he spoke with wide eyes, "...Are you sure you''re only 14, lady Lockhart?"


    Arabella visibly jolted at the comment, until she noticed the friendly smile growing on the man''s lips. She slumped slightly at the realisation it was just a compliment and she hadn''t been called out. An airy laugh left her lips, "...Ha, I''ve been studying hard, recently."


    Mattheo grinned, "I can tell. I admit I wasn''t expecting to leave this manor convinced, today. But, we seem to have a similar vision." He rose from his seat and held out a large hand. "I look forward to your patronage."


    Taking his hand into a solid handshake, Arabella smiled wide, "I''ll be in contact, Mr Reese."


    As she watched the man exit the door with a bow, Arabella sighed in relief. Backing Mattheo was a risk, but one that she was willing to take. It obviously would have been easier to invest in one of the companies that she knew for certain would succeed, but her conscience prevailed over logic in this matter. Sure, her fear of trains was a little childish, but at least she had the option of avoiding them. The world was bigger than herself, and she was a noble who would probably never work in her life. Expanding the railway line would undoubtedly widen job opportunities to a wider scope than within the confines of the earldom, it would connect a lot of people. It was a worthy investment for everyone involved.


    Despite her best efforts, the large investment amount flashed back into her mind and she audibly groaned, slamming her forehead on the oak table followed by a pained wince. She''d have to reel back from her shopping habits from here on out... If Mattheo even dared to shut down the company again, she would forcibly drag him back to work like a bat out of hell. She refused to fail.

 19. Oath

    Time drifted by at a snail''s pace. Sitting in his borrowed room, staring at the vial in his hand, Alistair swallowed back a shaky sigh. The amber liquid within the small, smooth container reminded him of dark honey- maybe even tree sap. It would be almost inviting if it wasn''t the same poison that had put him down before. How could such a beautiful thing be so deadly?


    He almost couldn''t believe that Katherine had managed to get her hands on it, and against her better judgment, that she had given it to him. He had managed to convince her it was for his protection, a last resort. Whether she believed him or not, it was in his possession and was his to do whatever he wanted with.


    But 2 weeks into his plan, his trembling body and shallow breathing elicited the realisation that he had underestimated how arduous it would be to develop an immunity. One of the history books Arabella had forced onto him told the tale of a previous King so afraid of poison he dosed himself as protection. In a way, wasn''t he just learning from his ancestors? At least, that''s what he tried to tell himself every time he diluted the deadly substance into his meals. It''s for the greater good. It''d be worth it in the end, if something like ''that'' ever happened again.


    Regardless, even he wasn''t blind enough to ignore that something was wrong. The agony tearing through his body was morbidly familiar, no matter how much he tried to push the memory back, the searing pain in his chest was unforgettable. A subtle panic began to grow in his stomach, as he forced himself to a mirror on staggering feet. Tired eyes, skin glistening with sweat and dry lips. He was a sorry sight and looked just as bad on the outside as he felt inside.


    Katherine was in the capital, following through on his request. Explaining this to anyone he knew would be difficult. And hospitals were out of the question; his mother had always taught him to avoid them considering most of the earldom''s doctors were graduates from the royal academy. The chances of recognition were slim, but not worth it.


    A sudden thought crossed his fever-hazed mind.


    With palpitations and staggering footsteps, he stumbled blindly out of the house and followed a familiar path with a pounding headache.


    <hr>


    "...What?"


    Aubrey startled back from Arabella after having leaned down to whisper news into her ear. The young girl jumped out of her seat in the study, blue eyes squinting in disbelief. Aubrey gestured to calm the girl down before she reiterated the news in a whisper.


    "I ran into him while escorting Mr Reese out. He collapsed at the gate, murmuring something about poison. I carried him to a guest room."


    Arabella squinted even more in bewilderment. What was he trying to do? Was this another play of his? She felt her eye twitch in frustration at the mere thought. 2 weeks of nothing and this is what he makes her deal with. With a sigh, Arabella spoke, "Did anyone see you carry him in?"


    Aubrey shook her head firmly, "I made sure to be discreet. All the staff are busy preparing to end the day."


    Arabella huffed in slight relief, "Thank God..." It would have been hard to explain, otherwise. She got out from behind the desk and gestured for Aubrey to follow her as she did. Opening the solid oak doors, she stomped her way through the halls. She''d kick him out with his tail between his legs if she had to.


    It didn''t take long to reach the occupied guest room and as she stood before the large doors, Arabella paused before opening them. Her mind suddenly flashed to the trick he had pulled on her brother and she turned to Aubrey with a frustrated look, "If he tries to hide behind the door, make sure you grab him."


    Aubrey barely hid a confused squint through her stoicism.


    Ignoring her, Arabella thrust the doors open like a woman on a mission, "Al, you-"


    She paused at the sight awaiting her. She was expecting a smug expression or a guilty face that showed he had clearly been caught in whatever act he was planning.


    Not a barely conscious, feverish and pitiful figure, writhing in the sheets.


    She felt her anger slowly dissipate with every quick step towards Alistair and she furrowed her brows as she inspected the sorry sight. His skin looked pale and clammy, and his strained gasps for air sounded like agony. Only a hint of his purple eyes was visible as he squinted through the pain, and even then it was like he could barely register her presence. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead and almost yelped in surprise at the heat that met it. He clearly was beyond unwell, and Aubrey had mentioned him mumbling about ''poison''...


    "Aubrey, call for Dr Charland!" Arabella turned to the maid with urgency in her voice. If the idiot did what she thought he did, then they needed to act quickly. "Be discreet. And tell anyone who asks that he''s here for me."


    Aubrey nodded firmly and quickly left to complete the task.


    Dr Charland showing up was sure to turn heads for anyone who saw; the family doctor hadn''t entered the mansion since their father''s passing and frankly... she had wanted to keep it that way. Seeing him would stir up bad memories.


    Arabella sighed and let her gaze fall back to Alistair, hardly aware of what was happening around him, but breathing at the very least. A sudden sickness rushed to her stomach, at the sight of him. Maybe it was guilt, anger or concern. She wasn''t too sure, perhaps it was a mixture of the three. Regardless of whatever it was, she frowned and brushed back the clump of white hair that always rested in front of his face, now damp with sweat, and waited with bated breath for the doctor to arrive.


    <hr>


    The first thing Alistair detected when he opened his eyes was how much his body boiled on the inside. Then it was peaceful humming slowly coming into focus over his own raspy breaths. He blinked dryly in recognition of the melody. It sounded classical, and vaguely familiar, something like a faraway waltz, something that belonged on a piano.


    Slowly and stiffly, Alistair turned his head to the source of the tune.


    Arabella sat with her arms crossed and stared down in thought in a seat dragged to the bedside. The humming seemed absentminded, as she focused her attention on a book, entirely engrossed- So much so, that she hadn''t noticed his staring. Alistair closed his eyes again and listened to the melody, letting it ease away the burning sensation in his chest. Sinking further into the soft sheets, his mind drifted off to faraway places he often didn''t let himself go back to.


    He was back in his childhood home again, babbling to his mother about nothing important, she would listen anyway with a smile. The sun would beam down on them as he started the day by going about the town, helping her with shopping, and talking to neighbours. Moonlight would stream in through the window as he was bundled in blankets and falling asleep with a gentle kiss on his forehead.


    It was nice for a while until a sudden chest pain, be it from the memory or his condition, elicited a sharp intake of breath out of him and blue eyes snapped up. The humming ground to a sharp halt and he was pulled back to reality. Arabella''s eyes widened at the sign of his consciousness.


    As tempted as he was to continue the ruse and wait for the humming to return, Alistair sighed, sensing the gig was up and attempted to force his body into an upright position with great effort. His headache only worsened as he changed his position and he groaned at the discomfort.


    Arabella shot up from her seat in an instant and glared at him, she looked like she wanted to shout for a brief moment and Alistair readied himself for it until she let out a sigh and sat back down in resignation. He watched in a daze as she reached for something beside her that she then held towards him with a serious countenance, "Drink."


    Alistair let his eyes fall to her hands and frowned at the tall glass of water. He turned his head away, and forced out some speech in a hoarse voice, "...I don''t think I can ingest anything right now. Not even water...."


    Arabella''s expression grew exasperated, "Dr Charland said you need lots of water to flush out the poison and help the antidote work. But your body is still the one doing most of the work, so you can''t be weak." She forced the glass into his hands with a pointed look. "Drink. Stop whining."


    Alistair winced but found himself unable to object when she was glaring daggers at him. So under her gaze, Alistair hesitantly brought the glass to his lips, only realising how dry his mouth was when the water entered it. As soon as he tried to open his throat to the liquid, it refused to go down and he quickly choked. As he coughed the irritation in his throat away, the glass was quickly caught by nimble hands before it could spill. Easing himself out of his coughing fit, Alistair looked up through watery eyes at the glass being held to his lips for him. A quick side glance showed Arabella with a much more concerned expression on her face.


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    "Just try."


    Her voice didn''t grow soft by any means, but her effort to convince him didn''t go unnoticed. Alistair swallowed dryly and painfully before taking slow sips of the water. By the time he had drank all he could, only half of the glass was left. Arabella seemed to finally take some pity on him and withdrew the glass.


    The water seemed to do something to soothe his searing headache and he could finally think again. Alistair looked up at Arabella with an apologetic smile and spoke, "...Sorry about this. Didn''t know where else to go..." His voice left him much easier now that his mouth was less dehydrated and it hurt less to speak. "Did I make the entire journey on foot?" Arabella narrowed her eyes at the question and he took that as his answer. Even with the ache throughout his entire body, there was a sense of excitement that arose within him that made him smile. "So it''s working. I wouldn''t have been able to do that, before. If I just keep-"


    "What...?" The word left Arabella in an angry and incredulous tone, less of a question and more like an insult to his intelligence. She narrowed her eyes at him and tapped her finger against her arm impatiently. "That''s all you have to say for yourself? And are you really planning on dosing yourself with more poison?"


    Alistair frowned, moving quickly to explain himself, "It''s to build up a tolerance." She was still glaring at him and he scrambled for an answer to get her to stop to no avail. "I mean- I''m sorry for bothering you. It was for the greater good-"


    He spluttered when she tossed something cold and wet that slapped against his face, splattering his clothing with icy water. He groaned, peeling away what appeared to be a damp cloth from his face, only to be met with Arabella''s smug expression. She scoffed at the sight of his wet hair and clothes before leaning in her seat with a smirk, "What? That was for the greater good too; I''m cooling you down from your fever." She forcefully snatched back the cloth and wrung the water from it, smirking. "But I could have been gentler right? I could have been much more careful about it with the same result, and none of us would have been pissed off."


    Alistair simply stared at her before blowing air out of his cheeks in annoyance. He smiled slightly and shrugged weakly, "...Fair enough."


    She didn''t seem amused in the slightest, however, and was clearly unwilling to let it slide. Her smirk fell into a scowl again, "I''ve had enough of dealing with Princes who hide their true intentions from me. Once was enough."


    It was only a matter of time before this came up again. He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling guiltily to avoid looking at her. He spoke softly, "...Sorry."


    After a beat of silence, however, Arabella seemed to come to a realisation and corrected herself with a sigh, "No. Now''s not the time. I''m..."


    She didn''t finish her sentence and instead gave a quiet huff. He stared up at the ceiling in silence, listening to her movements. Alistair blinked in surprise as the cold cloth was wordlessly placed back on his burning forehead, properly this time. He noted that despite how disgusting he felt from his ailment, she didn''t recoil once from touching his sweaty skin. The realisation dawned on him that even if her words didn''t properly convey it, Arabella''s touch was apologetic.


    She finally spoke again with a soft resignation to her tone, "Even if you do stupid things, at least you know when to ask for help."


    Guilt gnawed at him.


    Alistair''s face fell as he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. Deep in thought, he spoke quietly, "...If I tell you about my intentions, we might both regret it."


    Arabella went silent for a moment, surprised that he wasn''t avoiding the topic. She narrowed her eyes, "You don''t have the right to decide that for me." She crossed one leg over the other. "...But if you''re right, then I suppose I''ll just take full responsibility for-"


    "Even if my intentions run the risk of taking away your family''s power and influence?"


    Arabella went silent, her blue eyes widening slightly. He faced her and could sense that she was searching for a shred of lightheartedness in his expression that wouldn''t be found. Alistair exhaled and finally decided to get it over with. "Will you still be willing to help me, even if what I want goes against everything your family has built?"


    He waited anxiously, avoiding looking at Arabella. He wouldn''t be too surprised if she was also avoiding looking at him.


    "...Explain."


    Well, she promised she wouldn''t blame him. Forcing himself to sit up, he faced her, "...When I become King- If I become King, the Lockharts... No, the aristocracy in general, will mean nothing. The royal council even less so." He studied her facial expression. Arabella, as he thought, refused to look him in the eye and her brows were knitted together tightly in contemplation. Her fingers fidgeted aimlessly. He could feel any hope he had slowly fading away, even as he continued. "I want to remove the aristocracy''s influence on the Kingdom. I want to create a parliament of the people for the people... I''ve had enough of reigning nobles. And I''ve had enough of almighty Monarchs. So, if that means removing nobles from power, I''ll do what it takes, even if that includes the Lockharts."


    There was no use in sugar-coating anything, he thought. But even so, regret was slowly creeping in.


    "...Was that your plan in the other timeline too?"


    "...I know it''s out there. I know no nobles would agree with me. That''s why I remained quiet back then and tried to take the throne silently but-" He felt a flare of frustration rise in his chest and he gritted his teeth. "It didn''t work. So what''s the use in being neutral for a second time? If I''m going to take the throne, it''ll be by speaking my mind, even if no one agrees, even if I have to fight 10 times harder."


    Arabella deliberated deeply as he seethed.


    "...The absolute monarchy is what led to things like my corrupt trial, right?"


    Alistair''s violet eyes darted back up to her. She was looking down at her lap and clenching her fists. Her cold glare sent chills down his spine. Arabella spoke in a frigid voice. She sounded resolute, but was clearly still grappling with her thoughts, "...A King being able to kill people that inconvenience him with a wave of a hand... I don''t want anyone to experience that ever again." Her eyes suddenly shot up to meet his, almost startling him with how intense her gaze became. "If whatever you''re planning can put an end to that, then our goals still align. I''m not going to act like I fully understand you. You''d be getting power just to give it away, there''s so much more you could do with it. But... I also see your side. It''s honourable."


    ''Honourable''. He felt some of his doubt ease away at her words. Only some. He pressed his tongue to his cheek as he dissected her words carefully, "...You''re not sceptical?"


    "I am. You''ve certainly made becoming King more difficult than it had to be," She answered quickly and with a deep sigh. "...If you didn''t give up back then, you won''t do it now. I already said I''d help you become King, so I''ll stick to my word, as long as you stick to yours."


    Her unwavering expression perplexed him. If she was so uncertain about his goal, where was the resolute fire in her eyes coming from? It was... nicer than he wanted to admit, that she was willing to stick by him, but, his conscience weighed heavily with the thought of what was at stake on her end.


    "If you need time to think about-"


    "I already gave my word. Is that not enough for you?" She interrupted him snappily and it almost caused him to jump, quickly pressing his lips together. Arabella crossed her arms, thinking deeply for a few seconds before meeting his gaze with a newfound level of intensity. He watched with cautious intrigue as she pressed one hand flat against her heart and the other into the air, palm facing forward and beside her head. Her next words flowed effortlessly from her lips. "I, Arabella Lockhart, do swear that I will well and truly serve His Royal Highness Prince Alistair Aurum De Villiers, his heirs and successors. I shall pledge my allegiance and do right by him by all means with God as my witness."


    The sound of Alistair choking on his spit echoed through the room. The shock that ran through his spine at the ancient oath Arabella had just casually recited sent him shooting upright, much to the displeasure of his aching limbs. Alistair''s jaw dropped and with a mixture of admiration and concern, he spoke, "That''s... a heavy oath to make."


    "I know the weight of my words, so I wouldn''t say it without meaning it."


    Alistair''s violet eyes rounded against his will at her sincerity- or rather confidence, "There''s no going back from this you know. It''s said that God will strike down those who go against this oath. Coups have been thwarted that way."


    Her lips curved into a smug smile, "So you have been reading the books I gave you." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist as she spoke with a shine in her eye. "If I betray you now, it''s grounds for imprisonment. Providing you actually reach your end goal, that is."


    He wasn''t sure what he was expecting from Arabella, but it certainly wasn''t this. He slumped slightly and brushed a hand through his white hair, closing his eyes with an involuntary sigh of relief. How was he supposed to react to that? He peeked through half-lidded eyes at Arabella who had begun to tap her finger impatiently against her book and her lips drew into a tight line. Was she nervous? Even with that body language, the fire in her eyes was still there and slightly reassured him that there were no doubts present.


    Slowly, Alistair lifted his head and his eyes softened, "If you''re really sure about it... Let''s go forward without pretences this time."


    Arabella''s sudden smile, lacking in any sarcasm or pridefulness, caught him wildly off guard and a warmth radiated in her blue eyes, "Finally," Just as quickly as the pleasant smile appeared, it quickly faded into a stern frown. "But enough with the poison. Or at least, slow down and be careful, you can''t build tolerance in only a month."


    He laughed airily, having almost forgotten about that, "Hah, Right." A small simper graced his features. "If we''re being straightforward from here on out, I guess I should start-"


    "Save it for when your body isn''t fighting poison, I''ve interrogated you long enough," The corner of Arabella''s mouth quirked upwards as she spoke. Alistair let out an amused huff at her concern but as if on cue, he was fighting a yawn. His face flushed at the snicker that sounded from her at that. She opened up her book again, flipping to her bookmark and already becoming drawn into the pages. "Hurry up and recover, so I can go about my business. Everyone here thinks I''m the patient, so I''ll be stuck here with you until you do. Just pretend I''m not here."


    Alistair didn''t argue, nodding and closing his eyes as the warm sheets enveloped him once more. But sleep didn''t come to him. Something was missing.


    That''s when he heard it- The absentminded humming. Faint and barely audible, but still just as soothing. He sighed softly at the lightness in his chest, slowly drifting to sleep, letting the melody wash over him.

 20. Bluff

    "My work here is done, My lady."


    Arabella gave a quiet sigh of relief as Dr Charland rose out of his seat beside Alistair and gathered his belongings into his bag. The old man gave a polite nod towards Alistair. "So long as you don''t over-exert yourself, young man, everything should return to normal quite soon."


    Alistair sat stiffly in the bed and smiled uneasily at the man, "Thank you..."


    Arabella noted that despite her reassurance, Alistair remained in a constant state of unease around Dr Charland, afraid of being found out. As far as she knew, however, the man had no interest in anything other than his medical pursuits and would be hard-pressed to name more than 5 noble families, let alone a forgotten prince.


    Dr Charland approached her and bowed his head with a smile, "I pray that you won''t be needing my services any time soon, but if you do, do not hesitate to call for me."


    Arabella beamed up at him, "Thank you, doctor. I''ll keep that in mind." In a smooth motion, she curved her brows upwards in a pleading manner and gave a guilty look. "I apologise dearly for causing you to be embroiled in this matter. I know you''re a busy man. Your workload must already be daunting enough without an apprentice. And here I am only adding to that."


    He let out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling warmly, "Do not worry, I understand your situation entirely. It was mature of you to take the wellbeing of a stranger upon yourself." He tapped his nose and smiled reassuringly. "It will stay between us. I understand your brother would not be pleased."


    With a pleasant grin, Arabella waved the doctor goodbye until the door had closed before sighing and letting her hand fall quickly back to her side. She turned to face Alistair with a judgemental eyebrow raise, "You seem to have made yourself comfortable." He laughed at that and she crossed her arms at his response, walking over. "Haven''t you overstayed your welcome? It''s been a month."


    Alistair grinned boyishly and pressed a hand dramatically to his forehead, "How can you kick me out when I''m feeling so faint?"


    "Go faint at your own house," She said, setting herself comfortably on the seat previously occupied by the doctor. Despite the bite in her words, she was eased to see Alistair was well enough to joke around. Her mind wandered back to the topic they had discussed earlier and she grew serious. "Did you hear from her yet? When is she coming back?"


    Alistair said nothing and simply smiled at a spot just past her head, causing her to frown in confusion.


    "I''m already here."


    Arabella shrieked at the sudden declaration next to her ear and whipped her head around in panic just in time to catch Winter snickering behind her gloved hand, eyes crinkling in amusement.  The woman chuckled to herself, standing upright again with her hands lazily resting on her hips. "Didn''t mean to interrupt, but a little birdie told me Al was here."


    "How did you get in here!?" And who the hell told her that when she had worked so hard to keep it secret?


    "Don''t worry about it."


    Arabella grimaced at the woman''s casual attitude to breaking and entering. The fact that she didn''t notice her presence was slightly disconcerting, considering Winter always carried the faint scent of cigarettes with her- unmissable. Winter walked closer to Alistair with a heavy sigh leaving her lips, causing him to tense slightly. She narrowed her eye at the boy, "I leave you alone for what, 5 seconds, and you''re already trying to get yourself killed?" Alistair let out a yelp of ''sorry'' when she reached to grasp at his head of hair, scolding him. "What are you, a puppy let off of his leash?"


    Once she relinquished her iron grip, Alistair looked up like a kicked puppy, rubbing sorrowfully at his scalp, "I know, sorry..."


    "I knew something was up, but I didn''t think he''d be stupid enough to take it himself." Winter turned her head to Arabella, finally addressing her with an earnest expression. "Thanks, by the way. For looking out for him." Arabella simply nodded in acknowledgement, causing a smile to spread on Winter''s lips. With her sudden change in demeanour, her voice took an unfitting sweet tone. "Now, it would mean the world if you just spared me some time with the Kid, alone. Knock some sense into that head of his-"


    "No need for that, Katherine, she already knows." Alistair interrupted her candidly, still gingerly stroking the top of his head. His expression remained neutral as Winter''s visible eye rounded in surprise.


    Winter squinted, her voice laced with scepticism, "Even about-"


    "The plan to cure Queen Frances? Yes." Arabella finished the woman''s sentence, crossing her arms over her chest as she crossed one leg over the other. She tilted her head with a frown. "I know. So hurry up and grab a seat."


    At that, Winter stared in disbelief for a brief moment. It wasn''t long before she seemed to accept the situation, however, punctuated by her quick shrug and vague noise of acceptance. The pair watched as the woman dragged her own seat towards them, before sitting in it the wrong way around and smirking, "Fine. Let''s talk."


    Alistair nodded at her request and began, "Was it like I thought? All the same symptoms?"


    "Thinning hair, gaunt, hardly able to walk, breathless and coughing blood. It''s all the same." Winter listed off her findings rapidly, tapping her finger against the chair. "You have no idea what I went through trying to get that shred of information. Only her ladies-in-waiting have been able to enter and leave, plus guards are crawling around. I had to get in touch with an old friend and follow some bizarre paper trail to get in touch with an errand boy who got me in touch with some hack apothecary. Long story short, it''s the same as Trisha."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Arabella and Alistair shared a brief, knowing glance. He had stayed true to his word and divulged everything and she knew even more than Winter did, at the moment. He had never lied about travelling to Nyotari to bury his mother, however, his initial intention had been to save her life. The illness, thought to be terminal for years, had a cure- one that had apparently only been developed 3 years into the future in Nyotari by a pharmacist''s apprentice. Alistair''s recounting of this fact seemed sorrowful and mildly bitter but she sensed nothing she could say would ease those feelings away. The most comfort she could possibly offer him was ensuring that this bizarre plan of his could be followed through.


    "I thought so..." Alistair pinched his chin, thoughtfully and his eyes travelled towards Arabella and seemed to shine. "You understand what that means, right? I have the leverage I need."


    "Not until we get that apprentice over here. Unless she is swayed to help, it''s for nothing," Arabella noted. He had a tendency to get overeager, whether he knew it or not. She would have to work to reel him back in. "Leave that to me, of course. I''ll try my best."


    The corners of his lips quirked into a smile of silent gratitude. In the brief silence, Winter took her chance to speak up again with a curious frown, "That apprentice, she''s called Jennifer Pearson. I looked into her on Al''s behalf and from the looks of it, she''s got a good thing going over in Nyotari. Not much you could say to make her relocate." The woman raised a judgemental brow at the young girl. "If you''re planning on throwing cash at her, give it up. Your money won''t convince her."


    As much as she wanted to retort at the woman, Arabella couldn''t argue with that. Alistair had told her as much as he could about the apprentice and from what she knew, Winter was right. She was working under a pharmacist of a foreign ducal family, and the prestige and money they offered were not anything that she could match at all. But she wasn''t going to give up just because of money and rank.


    "That''s true. But Alistair spoke highly of her dedication to her craft. It reminded me of someone else I know, so I''ll use that," She smirked to herself proudly at the plan she had conducted in her mind. Winter stared at her sceptically and Arabella grimaced. "I''m not just going to throw money at this woman. I couldn''t even if I wanted to. At the moment I''m actually... broke."


    Winter let out a bellowing laugh at Arabella''s plight, provoking the girl to glare at her. Alistair''s quiet snicker didn''t help and she quickly shot him a sharp stare too to shut him up. He held up his hands innocently, but a glimmer of amusement still sparked in his violet eyes as he spoke, "Calm down, by the time the rail line is built, I''m certain you''ll make back ten times what you put in!"


    She sighed sorrowfully, once more, remembering all of those zeroes... Mattheo had already begun to secure the correct permits for the construction, so she found some solace in the fact that things were moving forward at the very least.


    It made sense he would want to try things differently. With the Queen still alive, the succession crisis would move much slower. They''d have more time to gather people to their side when there wasn''t a scramble for a new King. But that all relied on the plan working. Convincing her to name Alistair crown prince would never work; people would see through it and accuse him of blackmail since it would be completely nonsensical for Queen Frances to do so. But, something as simple as forcing her to refrain from even naming a crown prince could work. Evening out the playing field even a little would be better than what happened in the other timeline.


    She crossed her arms again and looked at Alistair with concern laced in her furrowed brows. She had sworn an oath to help him, but... There were doubts lingering in her mind about this plan of his. It was too optimistic. Too opportunistic.


    Failing could risk imprisonment. Succeeding could provide equal playing ground, or rather, the opportunity to even join the game even if it was with a weak hand. But even then, a weak hand could still win a game, albeit with maximum effort and the most amazing bluff known to mankind.


    "...I''m sure you don''t need me to tell you this, but this could very easily backfire on you," She said with a worried frown.


    Alistair focused his full attention on her and laced his fingers together in his lap. A smile spread on his lips, one that held an heir of security that slightly reassured her, "I see why you''re worried, but I''m confident. I don''t intend to drag you into something half-baked," He looked to the ceiling in thought as he continued. "I need something I can hold over her to give me an advantage once I enter the palace, it''s my one bargaining chip and I won''t squander it." A wave of something swept over his face in a split second that pulled his lips into a remorseful smile. "...But, still, dangling life above a dying woman like that is..."


    He trailed off quietly, making the comment seem more to himself than to the other two people in the room. Regardless, Winter and Arabella simultaneously shared a look of concern. Winter sighed exaggeratedly and rose out of her seat to tousle the boy''s white hair, pulling him back to reality, "It''s you or her, kid. At least you''re giving her a shot at living, even if you''re getting something out of it." Her expression grew serious. "Look out for yourself above all else. Don''t go soft, because trust me, no one in the palace will do the same for you."


    Arabella felt involuntarily tense at those words. She quickly shook it away and spoke up, "Let''s leave that talk for after the medicine is developed. Just rely on me for the first part and then I''ll leave the rest to you two."


    They didn''t have long. Arabella''s memory wasn''t perfect, especially regarding anything that had happened before her debut, but she had a vague recollection of Queen Frances'' death. Sometime after Arabella turned 15 was when the queen''s illness had been publically announced and she had retired to the countryside to recuperate. All that Arabella remembered now was that the queen died sometime before she turned 16. It wasn''t exact dates, but the vague timeframe was better than nothing.


    With a self-satisfied expression, Arabella rose out of her seat and looked at the two of them, "I think that should be all for now. Now I want you both out of my house." Both Winter and Alistair let out vague noises of indignation at her order but she promptly ignored both of them and crossed her arms sternly. "I''ve been nice enough."


    Winter scoffed light-heartedly, "Whatever you say. We''ll get out of your hair."


    She watched in mild amusement as the two made mirroring expressions of resignment. She had briefly thought it earlier, but if it wasn''t for the fact that Alistair and Winter looked nothing alike, she could be convinced they were related.


    A sudden knock on the door caused her to whip her head around in surprise when Aubrey''s voice sounded from the other side.


    "My lady, your letter has arrived."

 21. Memento Mori

    "I apologise for the lack of variety, Lady Arabella. The only thing I keep in my office is coffee."


    Arabella smiled warmly up at Dr Charland, excusing his apology, "It''s no problem, I have an expansive palate, I can drink more than tea." She took a slow sip from her cup as an example and beamed. "Thank you for having me again on such short notice."


    Besides, she needed it. The buzz of caffeine would help her stop thinking about that letter.


    Dr Charland gave a relieved smile at her response and sat at the other end of his desk. His office was a wreck of loose papers and equipment, a far cry from the pristine nature of his practice- he seemed fairly embarrassed by this, but Arabella would be gracious enough to not comment on it


    She continued pleasantly, "I know you''re a busy man, but a more personal thank you was in order after your favour to me."


    ¡°It''s only my job as a doctor. There is no special thank you necessary." He smiled gently at her in a fatherly manner. "You''re recent visits have been unexpected but pleasantly welcome. Your interest in my research has also been a welcome surprise."


    He was still just as she knew him in the past- A man dedicated to his craft. Arabella brought the cup to her lips again and gave a pleasant smile in return. Building a good rapport with Dr Charland was daunting; the man had known her since she was young on account of serving as their on-call doctor. As a side effect of that, however, her reputation as a raging brat was harder to shake and her sweetness had to be turned up to the max. It was something she could still get away with, at least for a little while longer while she was still 14.


    "I must ask. Has your interest been piqued because you intend on entering the field, yourself, someday? You are nearing the age for entrance exams." The man''s eye twinkled slightly in excitement at that. "I know it is not a common pursuit for those of your pedigree, but I would strongly support you in such an endeavour, My lady."


    His excitement at the prospect caused a slight twinge of guilt in the girl, regardless, Arabella laughed softly and shook her head, "Oh, no. I don''t have the heart for it. I don''t do well around blood."


    The only blood she wanted to spill was Cecil''s, after all.


    At that thought, her mind flashed back to the letter and she quickly brought the cup back to her lips in a tense movement. The scent of the coffee grounded her. Don''t think about it.


    She forced a smile back on her face and returned to the conversation at hand. She''d been coming here to accomplish one thing after all. "...Actually, Dr Charland. Do you remember that boy you helped bring back to health? The little brother of one of our stablehands?" He nodded and she smiled even wider. "That''s good. He was so thankful for your care that he started singing your praise the other day."


    The man smiled in surprise, "That''s lovely to hear."


    She hummed joyfully in response, "He wouldn''t stop talking about your miracle cures."


    "It''s all just a matter of science," Dr Charland noted. "There is no such thing as a miracle cure."


    There was her opening.


    Arabella nodded, "I agree. Especially after hearing all about your research, I''ve been enlightened... ah, pardon me, what was the disease called? Ar-Arefsim...?"


    "Arensum Disease," Dr Charland corrected with an endeared smile.


    "Of course, how could I forget," She beamed at him. "I was just thinking on that note about something the boy had mentioned. He''s a migrant from Nyotari and mentioned a junior doctor working under the Dullot house-"


    "Dullot?"


    "Oh, you may not be familiar, they''re Nyotarian aristocracy," Arabella smiled innocently. Of course, he wouldn''t know. "Perhaps you''ve read the name... Jennifer Pearson, was it?"


    Dr Charland sat back in his seat and stroked absentmindedly at his chin, narrowing his eyes in thought. After a moment, something seemed to click and his eyes widened, "I often keep up with The Medical Journals, and the name seems somewhat familiar. Perhaps I''ve read a report under that name...?"


    "That must be it. He did mention she''d participated in something like that. I could be wrong, but if it sounds familiar to you then I''m sure it''s the same person," Arabella kept up her innocent facade. It wasn''t like she had scoured every recent publication of The Medical Journals with Alistair in search of her work or anything... "He spoke very highly of her and her own personal research into Arensum Disease. She had helped a family member of his suffering from the condition."


    This seemed to catch Dr Charland''s full attention. He blinked as if he was replaying what she had just said in his mind before shaking his head, "You must be mistaken. There are hardly any professionals looking into the disease, let alone a junior doctor. It is terminal."


    "Aren''t you?" Arabella asked while taking a self-satisfying sip of her coffee.


    "Well..." Dr Charland frowned in thought before speaking up again. "That''s only because I have my own... theories."


    He wasn''t willing to admit his belief that it was curable without conclusive proof. At least, that''s what Arabella was guessing, Dr Charland was that kind of man after all. He just needed a little nudge, then.


    "He mentioned that she believes the disease to be curable." She glanced up from her cup to Dr Charland whose eyes widened. She smiled wider. "I remember thinking of how bold of an idea it was. It reminded me of you, doctor. And the thought crossed my mind that you seemed in need of an apprentice..."


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Again, the old man scratched at his chin and hummed, dissecting her words. It took a while for him to respond with a furrowed brow, "An apprentice..." He thought some more before frowning with a sigh. "It sounds ideal. But, with my workload, I hardly have enough time to organise my own research let alone set the time aside to reach out. I do thank you for your consideration, Lady Arabella."


    "That''s a shame. I was told that Dr Pearson often visits the country for personal matters. I could have arranged something." She let some silence pass between the two before smiling up at him. "Though, that is entirely up to you, Dr Charland. It''s only a suggestion."


    The doctor had clearly perked up at this, a smile spread across his face though he looked somewhat apologetic, "I wouldn''t want to put you through the trouble, my lady. You''re so young-"


    "This is my ''thank you'' to you, doctor!" She intercepted as fast as she could before he could turn her down properly. With her sweetest, simpering smile she spoke. "You went to some trouble for me so I can only do the same in return."


    The old man looked guiltily at his cup for a while before smiling enthusiastically, "Oh, alright. I would be honoured if you could arrange some kind of meeting, my lady."


    It took everything she had to hide her self-satisfying smile behind her cup, "Of course. When the opportunity arises, I will be in touch."


    <hr>


    With a frown, Arabella tossed a pouch of money on the table, earning a greedy smile to stretch on Winter''s face. On the familiar upper floor of the pub, Winter made herself comfortable in her seat. The woman grinned toothily as she glided the pouch closer to her, "Lovely, lovely." She opened up the pouch and her already wide grin grew even larger. "This is for your bandit issue, I presume?"


    Arabella took a seat and scowled, annoyed that she was departing with even more of her dwindling money, "You have less than a month to deal with it. My siblings will be returning soon."


    And so will he. In less than a month.


    "I... I handled the matter with Dr Charland," She quickly diverted her attention away from that train of thought.


    "About time," Winter commented, pocketing the money. "Rest is up to Al, then."


    Arabella nodded, remembering what Alistair had told her about the apprentice: ''She owes it to me. She promised me a favour.'' It was said with a sombre tone- her signal not to pry.


    An awkward silence settled between the two. Arabella swallowed dryly, fidgeting with her dress, Though, Winter seemed less than bothered by the silence, lighting up her cigarette in its holder and taking a deep inhale. The woman sighed in satisfaction after exhaling, though Arabella made a point of waving away the cloud of smoke travelling towards her, "You shouldn''t smoke around children."


    "You''re kidding, right?" Winter took a dramatic inhale of smoke and scoffed. After a brief moment of silence, her visible eye grew contemplative and she exhaled softly. "You and Al... Nothing at all like the children I''ve met." Her tone was only half-joking but it didn''t make Arabella tense up any less. Winter pointed her cigarette at the girl and raised a brow. A smirk started to stretch on her lips. "I''ve been thinking., let''s make a quick deal. Exchange information for information."


    Arabella replied in complete deadpan, "No."


    The woman laughed and waved her hand in a beckoning motion, "Come on. A question for a question. I''ll answer anything in exchange." She raised her hand in the air as if making an oath and grinned. "I swear."


    A slight pout of irritation found its way onto Arabella''s features. She hated to admit it, but she was tempted. Katherine or Winter or whatever name she wanted to go by was nothing like anyone she had ever met. A long pause filled the room and Arabella pouted even harder as she battled internally with her urge to spout off.


    "...How do you and Alistair know each other?"


    Ugh, she took the bait. She grimaced at herself as Winter''s expression morphed into smug self-satisfaction.


    Winter nodded in acknowledgement of the question and hummed, "You already know about what went down at the palace, so I won''t get into that mess." She exhaled and finally took a break from smoking to lean on her hand as she spoke. "I was close with his mother before he was even born. Believe it or not, I used to be on the straight and narrow- a military woman. Not for long though." She pointed to her wide eye patch, covered under her side-swept hair. "I got injured and relegated to a palace guard for some time. Boring work, but you can guess who I was assigned to. That''s how I met Trisha..." The name left her lips with a subtle fondness that she quickly disguised with another long drag from her cigarette. "I wasn''t around long enough to find out she was pregnant since I left to pursue my more ''lucrative'' business. In fact, I didn''t know anything until she showed up in the earldom one day with a kid on her hip and talking about how she was presumed ''dead''." Winter smiled casually as she came to a close. "In other words, that''s the long way of saying I''m a family friend."


    Somehow, that was more normal than Arabella had been expecting. Her brows furrowed at the response that frankly only raised more questions for her than it answered.


    "My turn, now," Winter''s smiled slyly. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. "Not even a year ago, I''m hearing stories of the Lockhart demon flipping tables and throwing vases, but all of a sudden, here she is asking for my services. Tell me,  Miss Lockhart, what are you getting out of helping Al?"


    "It''s the honourable thing to do," Arabella lied with a completely straight face.


    Winter looked exceedingly unconvinced by the notion, "Come on. We made a deal." She leaned forward with a smirk. "What was it you said when we met? Something about... Justice? A ''good-for-nothing pig''? Or was that some kind of joke?"


    Ah, of course she would remember that. Arabella didn''t like getting too emotional, especially when it would come back to bite her later. When it came to that ''good-for-nothing pig'', the same one she''d have to face again in only a few weeks, she had yet to quell her seething anger. She was safe from him, at least for now. Why was it so hard for her to remember that when he came to mind? Arabella''s face fell into an icy expression, "...Did it seem like a joke back then?"  The darkening of her blue eyes seemed to surprise Winter who sat slightly straighter upon being met with the girl''s glower. "...Do I seem like I''m joking now?"


    Silence befell the two of them for a good few moments until Winter widened her eyes in a mixture of shock and intrigue, "I... pity the fool who got on your bad side." The comment pulled Arabella out of whatever headspace she had found herself in and she frowned to herself. She was getting emotional again. By her silence, Winter seemed to pick up on the fact that Arabella was doing this to get back at someone and Arabella remained silently grateful there wouldn''t be any prying beyond that.


    But she was certain Winter was smart enough to eventually figure it out on her own someday.


    In the silence, Winter took the opportunity to smile slyly once more. "Next topic. How do you know my real name?"


    Arabella glared at her, "You''ve already used your one question." Though, she had hardly answered it transparently.


    Winter laughed to herself, "Got me." Her cigarette returned to her lips and she continued her airy laugh. "Thanks for indulging my curiosity."


    Arabella withdrew a ''your welcome'' from leaving her own lips but nodded at the comment.


    If anything, a ''thank you'' was in order for the slight distraction. But she would have to stop avoiding it now.  Whatever had happened at the academy to change things and embolden him enough to make a stately visit was beyond her now. She would just have to deal with it.


    And deal with it, she shall.


    "...About the bandit situation..." Arabella frowned in contemplation, interlacing her fingers together as she spoke. "How are they with...pickpocketing?"


    Winter quirked a curious brow.

 22. Road Block

    Arabella flinched slightly at the sound of a knock on the door. Lying in bed, she pulled the sheets over her head and awaited the sound of Aubrey''s footsteps leaving her side. A few moments later, she listened in closely to the familiar voice on the other end.


    "Is she still unwell?"


    "It''s nothing to worry yourself about, Lady Olivia. Nothing that a few more days of rest can''t fix."


    Silence and after a moment a soft sigh.


    "She must have run herself into the ground with her duties...When she wakes, let her know that I stopped by. "


    "Of course, my lady."


    Upon the sound of the door closing, Arabella sat back up in bed and picked up the skirt of her nightgown to rush back to her original spot at her large window, with curtains drawn but widened just enough for a view of the manor¡¯s gates. She ignored the sound of Aubrey approaching in favour of squinting through the gap with bated breath.


    "How long will this farce last, milady?" Aubrey sounded less than impressed by Arabella''s little act. "Are you nervous about the prospect of meeting his highness? A visit such as this is a privilege to the family."


    "A stately visit at the last second is not a privilege. Nor is it cordial..." Arabella replied absentmindedly, staring almost unblinkingly through the window. She bit at her lip hard, ignoring the tender feeling from chewing at it so ardently. "I''m not nervous. I''m just not in the right mood to put on a show."


    He wanted something.


    That much was blatantly obvious. Their father didn''t involve himself with royalty, hardly ever with other members of the aristocracy either, so even their visits to the capital were nearly non-existent. Ishir Lockhart had dedicated his time to the Earldom until he passed. Layton himself was not interested in the politics of high society or its politics. On top of that, despite their family''s history as soldiers of the royal family, they had barely interacted with royalty more than necessary to this day.


    Things like this just didn''t happen to the Lockharts.


    Aubrey glanced at the girl with a thoughtful furrow of her brow before sighing, "If I remember correctly, you were introduced to the Queen herself when you were much younger, milady. This can''t be much different."


    "I was six. I hardly remember it and I doubt she does either," It was the first and last time she had met Queen Frances at all, considering the next time she went to the capital, she was...well, dead. "And again. I''m not nervous."


    Aubery let out a soft hum expressing her doubt at the claim, "...Well, I am not paid to ask questions but I do find it interesting that you asked of me to keep an eye on who the prince speaks to, this evening..."


    Arabella turned her head to Aubrey and attempted to furrow her brows only to realise that they had already been firmly furrowed albeit subconsciously. Aubrey''s lips held the subtlest of smug upturns. Had Aubrey always been so brazen? Perhaps so and Arabella was just too self-important to notice.


    "Is it a crime that I''m curious about why he''s here?" She spoke steadily, frowning.


    Aubrey said nothing, only raising her dark brows slightly before moving on and leaving the topic alone, much to Arabella''s relief.


    As a precursor, of course, Aubrey herself was being watched... Just in case. Carol very clearly was smitten with the prospect of meeting royalty and did not bother hiding it. All Arabella said was: ''I hear the prince is so handsome even the most stoic of women fall for his charms. I''m curious if Aubrey will break in his presence, it''s a shame I''ll be too busy to see it for myself.'' With a mischievous grin and a twinkle in her eye, Carol was on board immediately.


    The sound of approaching trotting in the distance snapped Arabella''s attention back to the window and she felt her breath hitch in the back of her throat.


    There it was.


    The golden carriage, the royal crest adorning the top and sides- a golden phoenix spreading its wings on a deep purple backdrop. That was his carriage. It was unmissable. In all its opulence, it still contained such filth within it. It was the carriage she was hoping he would show up in. His favourite one. A quiet sigh of relief cut itself short when she noted the two cavalrymen riding on either side of it. Arabella felt her lip twitch downwards involuntarily as she saw their guns.


    Just like when she had been accused.


    No. It was fine, that was normal. Her mind was rushing to illogical conclusions. They were just guards. Nothing out of the ordinary, not yet.


    But she saw what she was hoping for. Stepping back, she closed the curtains fully before she could see the carriage could even come to a stop or glimpse even a strand of blonde hair.


    <hr>


    A nerve-wracking 20 minutes go by. By now, the greetings must have been put in place, her absence explained and they had to be sitting at the dining table already served. That meant no servants wandering the halls.


    Arabella whipped her head to the door at the sound of a soft knock and rushed out of bed once more with quiet footsteps. She took a moment to herself, preparing her best sickly-sounding voice and croaked out a pitiful,"...who is it?"


    "Aubrey, milady."


    With a sigh, Arabella opened the door for the woman and shut it behind the both of them, dropping her act. Once Arabella turned, she crossed her arms and raised her brows, "...well?"


    "Dinner has been served."


    "And...?"


    "They are all conversing at the table. His Highness has remained with your siblings since entering. The rest of the staff not attending to the dinner have taken to cleaning the kitchens."


    So he hadn''t talked to any of the servants yet. Arabella let out a small puff of air from her cheeks and nodded, accepting the news. This was fine, all fine. Her nerves seemed to send constant shivers down her spine every moment. While Cecil was here she would know no peace.


    After a moment to breathe, Arabella moved to her table by the window and brushed back her curls from her eyes, "Alright... Well, I''m starving, Aubrey. I''d like to take dinner in my room, this evening." She watched as Aubrey curtsied curtly and made her way out of the room. "And... take your time."


    Once the door had shut, Arabella leapt out of her seat, biting her lip. She didn''t have long to do this, after all, 20 minutes at most. On her way towards the door, she slipped on her robe and slippers. Her footsteps barely made a sound against the plush carpet of the halls as she made haste. She followed the familiar path with a constant jitter in her legs that she made her best attempt to ignore until she wound up at the large oak doors. It wasn''t the best of plans, but Arabella wanted an unbiased account of their conversation. She made her best attempt to lean in close to the door, her ear barely grazing the hardwood door and just barely making out voices from behind it.


    "...I would like for the Lockhart legacy to continue on strong."


    She felt a sick chill down her spine at the familiar voice. Calculatingly cordial, to the point of confusion. Uncannily human.


    Cecil.


    Swallowing down her sentiments, she leaned closer.


    "We are no longer a military family, your highness. We haven''t been since the last war with Elheim. Decades ago." The baritone was evidently Layton''s. He sounded firm and unmoving, as per usual, but somehow even more so now. What were they talking about? "I cannot accept. I am not the man for the position."


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Olivia''s gentler tone was harder to pick up through the door but Arabella strained to listen, "...I''ve heard Major Everett is doing a fine enough job in the North."


    A tense silence caused Arabella to instinctively step back from the door in caution. However, it only lasted a moment. A quiet laugh filled the silence soon enough. It was a dreadfully familiar laugh.


    "...'' Fine enough'' but hardly to my standard. Major Everett simply is not fitting for the rank. There are just some tasks commoners can not complete, regardless of skill. He was not my choice. And you, my lord, are indispensable." She could hear a smile in Cecil''s voice in his attempt at charm. "The commoners in the North are unruly compared to the commoners here in the East. I hear you''re viewed positively by them, Lord Lockhart."


    Another silence, even tenser than the last.


    Layton''s voice grew distant, "That''s simply the effect of my father''s reputation passing to me as his heir. I have not held the title of Earl Lockhart long enough for the people to form their own views on me."


    "A good reputation is a good reputation, regardless of where it stems. And that is indispensable."


    Major Everett... It wasn''t a name she recognised. Nor did she recognise whatever they were talking about happening in the North. A commoner in the military with the surname Everett? Arabella''s eyes squinted in confusion as she raked through her brain for a memory of any sort linking to it. She failed to find one. As far as she could understand, whoever Major Everett was, he was going to be replaced. By her brother nonetheless.


    "Again. I have no place in the military, your highness. Let alone as a Major."


    "...Think about it." Even without being present in the room, Arabella could hear that the bite of his demand was softened by a smile but just barely. "I look forward to hearing your thoughts in writing."


    The atmosphere of the room traversed even through the door and she found it difficult to swallow all of a sudden.


    "O-Oh, why don''t we move onto a... more palatable topic of conversation for the dinner table," And there it was. Poor Olivia left to salvage the terrible atmosphere. "It was our sister that organised the menu for tonight, isn''t it delightful?"


    Arabella sighed and stepped away from the door. She must have missed anything truly important with her late arrival and was left with mere crumbs. And so began her slow trek back to her room.


    3 minutes. A measly 3 minutes she had eavesdropped and she hardly understood a thing. Her blue eyes travelled lazily to the window... Aubrey would not be back for at least another 10 minutes... She could spare 5 in the gardens. No servants were around to see her in a nightgown and by God she needed the fresh air to clear her head.


    Upon stepping foot outdoors, Arabella was greeted by the cool breeze tousling her loose curls and a barely setting sun warming her brown skin. It was fairly warm, despite the time, a sign of summer approaching steadfast. The grass had grown lush over the course of spring. Just a few minutes basking in this was all she needed. Staying indoors, pretending to be ill was stifling. A deep breath in and a deep breath out.


    "You''re Earl Lockharts youngest sister, Lady Arabella, are you not?"


    Arabella didn''t move. Even when the footsteps approached closer, she didn''t dare move an inch. Every part of her regretted her excursion in an instant. She should have sucked up her disappointment and scurried back to her room. It wasn''t too late. She could walk facing forward, and act as though she heard nothing.


    "Am I mistaken?"


    She swallowed roughly, steadying her nerves. It took every muscle in her body to force her body around to face him. He was looking straight at her, a calm and cordial smile ever present on her lips. She hated it. Every bone in her body hated it. Yet still, she forced her expression into one of neutrality, one that wouldn''t give away her deep and searing loathing, "...You''re not, your Highness...It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."


    He looked expectant for a brief moment, his purple eyes flickering downwards. He wanted her to curtsy. She would not. Arabella could not remember a single time she had deciphered Cecil''s true emotions, the few times she had thought she had, it was revealed to be a facade. Even now, his smile was unyielding despite how she shifted slightly from foot to foot.


    The once warm breeze turned ice cold on her skin. She wanted nothing more than to return indoors and there was nothing more to be left said but she didn''t want to leave looking suspicious or worse, intimidated. He shouldn''t have been here; she had left but a few minutes ago, dinner couldn''t have concluded so quickly. Arabella quickly turned her eyes away, "...Was dinner to your liking? I apologise for my absence, I am unwell."


    A smile. One that did not quite reach his purple eyes but was believable enough to someone who didn''t know better. Cecil spoke evenly, "My business in your estate is completed. I fear that I did not have the chance to enjoy the dinner you so graciously planned. I am needed back in the capital." He tilted his head ever so slightly, hands folded behind his back as the cold breeze barely tousled his blonde coif.  "I will be taking my leave in a moment. I just thought it to be necessary to traverse the beautiful Lockhart gardens while I had the chance."


    That fake charm that she had fallen for so easily before made her feel sick to the stomach now. She avoided his gaze, finding her escape from the situation, "Then I will take my leave also-"


    "Do I scare you?"


    A cold sweat collected on Arabella''s skin in less than a second. Caught off guard, she darted her eyes up to Cecil in panic and regretted it. She never knew what he was truly feeling, but she would have to be a fool to miss the inkling of dark amusement glinting in his eyes as his false smile remained. She had spent a year with that disgusting expression after all.


    Keep calm. She was certain her neutral expression had faltered for a moment but she made her best attempt to keep up her mask of neutrality, "...No-"


    "Are you certain? You''re trembling." His eyebrows raised in a move of mock concern. Her old self would have fallen for it. She knew better now. "I''d hate to intimidate you in any way, Lady Arabella. Our families are friends to one another, there is no reason to fear me."


    "I''m just cold," Arabella swallowed dryly and focused all her attention on stopping the slight tremor in her hands that she had failed to notice. "What possible reason... could I have to be afraid." She forced out the words, silently berating herself for how her voice faltered and failed her.


    Cecil smiled strangely at her. It was not a smile Arabella could decipher, she just knew that she didn''t like it. After a moment, the smile morphed into his typical front, "...Then you should return indoors at once. I wish you a hasty recovery."


    With a nod of the head, he turned back towards the manor, where she finally caught a glimpse of his guards waiting. She jerked slightly at the sight of the guns once more before shaking her head. He was gone now. Finally.


    Even so, the unease remained. No, it increased tenfold. She felt nauseous.


    That wasn''t how things were supposed to go. She wasn''t supposed to be so pathetic.


    Arabella let her eyes fall down to her trembling hands and quickly she grasped them into fists so tight she was certain blood flow had halted. She was just cold.


    She just needed to be back indoors.


    But once she had returned to her room in a daze, the trembling didn''t stop.


    Aubrey was waiting inside, just laying out her dinner on the table and she gestured to the table, "Dinner is served-"


    "I''m not hungry," Arabella pushed the words from her lips and made a direct move towards her bed. "I''m going to sleep now, so don''t bother me until the morning."


    Aubrey paused and blinked in surprise, "Shall I return your dinner?"


    "Leave it. I''ll eat later. You can collect the dishes in the morning," Arabella had made quick work of burying herself in her sheets. Soft and velvety, her safe place.


    Aubrey''s silence was telling. Not even the shuffle of feet was heard. After a brief pause, she spoke softly, "...Is everything alright, Lady Arabella?"


    "Why wouldn''t it be?" The response came automatically as Arabella squeezed her eyes closed in a poor attempt to induce sleep. She didn''t have to think about anything while she was asleep. "...I''m just tired. Maybe I really am sick."


    Aubrey hesitated but eventually gave in, curtsying, "Rest well."


    Arabella waited for the sound of the door to close before she allowed herself to open her eyes from beneath the sheets. She raised her fisted hand to her face. She had stopped trembling.


    She was just cold. Nothing else.


    She opened up her hand and swallowed hard at the realisation that she had cut small crescents into her palm. It stung but she didn''t mind. The stinging distracted her. In a smaller sense, she found comfort in it.


    She was feeling pain, so she was alive. She was alive, so she had a fighting chance. She had a fighting chance, she had to win.


    And she was going to win.


    <hr>


    The golden carriage traversed the path out of the Earldom with ease.


    The coachman let his eyes wander upwards to the setting sun with slight distaste; it would be nightfall in less than an hour. The 3-hour journey would be a daunting one.


    "Halt!"


    The coachman pulled the carriage to an abrupt stop at the sight before him. A cart overturned on the road, two men standing on either side of it looking perplexed. He watched as the two guards dismounted to approach the men and start a conversation. Situations such as these were typical setups for highwaymen, but he eased himself. No one would dare attempt to rob a royal carriage let alone one carrying the prince himself, protected by armed guards.


    "We need an extra hand!" One of the men called from ahead. " Could you help us pull the cart upright, sir?"


    The coachman glanced over at one of the guards who simply nodded and with a disgruntled sigh, stepped down from his position to join them. He had not signed up for this.


    With four men pulling at the cart, it was quick work. The two men, seemingly common labourers, were unaffected by the beratement from the two guards at their audacious nature in blocking a royal vehicle. Once the deed was done, one of the men smiled toothily approaching the coachman, "Thank you, sirs! We''ll be on our way then!"


    The coachman wrinkled his nose as they both brushed past him, making a point of brushing off the parts of his uniform that they had grazed before following the guards back to their original positions. However, just as he made a move to man the reigns he paused at a lighter sensation in his pockets. His eyes widened as he reached into his jacket pocket.


    He must have dropped the key to the luggage car while lifting the cart.


    A firm and singular knock at the window behind him and the smooth voice following it caused the coachman to jump, "Resume the journey."


    "Yes, your highness. Of course, your highness."


    Without hesitation, he grabbed onto the reins with clammy hands and urged the horses back into their trot. He''d keep quiet, no one would have to know lest he be fired. Thank goodness he always carried a spare.

 23. Apprentice

    The quaint tea house buzzed with hushed exchanges of intellect, the gentle clinking of cups and rustling of papers. At the centre of it all sat Jennifer Pearson, surrounded by a fortress of research and reports carefully strewn beside cakes and tea. Alistair, ever the observer, watched the determined focus in the young woman''s brown eyes as she flipped through each page, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Across from her, Dr. Charland remained equally engrossed in their scholarly exchange- a wavelength completely foreign to Alistair.


    Alistair sat as the third party, occupying himself with remaining as unobtrusive a presence as possible as the two delved into topics beyond his comprehension. Despite that, it wasn''t difficult for him to sense the depth of their discussion or the fact that it was steering towards the result he was hoping for.


    After a prolonged silent assessment, punctuated by the shuffling of papers, Jennifer finally set down her pile. Her expression held an air of awe and contemplation, "I truly don''t know where to begin." She sat upright, brushing back a lock of blonde hair into her ponytail. Dr Charland followed suit and Alistair became alert once more as the woman peered curiously at the both of them. "This is all so... convenient."


    With subtle eye-widening, Alistair fought the urge to quell her doubts; right now, he wasn''t the one for the job. As he hoped, Dr. Charland quickly spoke with a soft chuckle, "This is a lot to process, I understand. But this opportunity could be transformative for you and the world of medicine as a whole."


    "I don''t doubt that at all," Jennifer''s soft frown of contemplation remained, her gaze shifting to Alistair as if just remembering his presence. "Working with the Doctor, being granted ample time to pursue my research and having a benefactor on top of it all? It''s too good to be true, a fantasy almost. It''s hard to believe that all of this came to be by coincidental meetings."


    Alistair smiled curiously, quirking a brow, "So you think there''s a catch."


    At his words, Jennifer sighed and readjusted her glasses, "It''s not you or Dr. Charland''s intentions that I''m concerned about here." With a steady gaze, she folded her hands over one another. "Between the three of us... You know how aristocrats are. There''s no such thing as a fair deal with these types, especially when you''re ranked beneath them. You can''t trust them," Jennifer sighed once more. "And this Arabella Lockhart- my apparent ''benefactor''. From what I hear, she''s quite... ''a character''."


    The corner of Alistair''s lips twitched in a suppressed smile just imagining the look of offence that would have crossed said ''character''s'' face if she''d heard that. Alistair took a tremendous effort to bite back his laugh and return to the conversation unfolding.


    Dr. Charland hadn''t hesitated to jump to the defence, "While I can''t speak for the whole of aristocratic society, I can vouch for the Lockhart house with confidence,"  The man leaned forward, a reassuring smile on his face. "I''ve been working under their support since I first obtained my license, the previous earl prioritized the advancement of the earldom above all else and I don''t doubt the same goes for his children."


    Spotting his opportunity to speak, Alistair turned on the charm with an easy-going smile, "If you ask me, I don''t trust all nobles either," Experiencing both ends, as royalty and as a commoner, the curtain had long been ripped. "''Noble'' is nothing but a title created by themselves to feel self-important. There''s rarely anything truly noble about them, let alone morally superior..." Against his will, a flash of Arabella''s oath to him crossed his mind and he stifled a small smile. "Even so... There''s something special about the Lockharts." He sat back in his seat and Jennifer mirrored him with a raised brow. "But you don''t care about empty appraisals, you just want evidence. Look around. You saw the earldom, the developments, the people. It''s all bustling with life and not just for the wealthy." He smiled. "Can that easily be said for any other place?"


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Jennifer kept her eyes on him over her glasses, a silence stretching over the table as she pondered. It didn''t take long for a quiet amused chuckle to leave her as she tilted her head at him, "I remember thinking it back then, when we met in Nyotari... You''re a little beyond your years aren''t you, Al."


    The comment caused him to flinch subtly, though the action was quickly suppressed with a casual smile of acknowledgement.


    Dr Charland sent a warm smile her way, "The boy has spoken my mind better than I had. Regardless of how it comes to be, our intellect combined could save lives, there''s no denying that," The old man stroked his chin with a determined smile. "So what do you say?"


    <hr>


    Watching the two intellectuals leave to finalise their agreement lifted a weight Alistair wasn''t even aware of. That was one step closer to his plan- his highly volatile plan but a plan nonetheless.


    The pub is all rowdy, high energy. The whimsical thought crosses his mind as to how accustomed he was to such an environment. It was no place for children yet so crucial to the childhood he remembered and the woman responsible for that was sitting right across from him taking an unashamed gulp from her glass.


    Katherine''s visible eye gazed lazily around the establishment, a soft hue to her face from the alcohol, as she spoke, "Everett, huh. That takes me back."


    "So you do know of him?" Alistair smiles in relief. The ''Major Everett'' that Arabella had mentioned to him only sparked vague memories and if anyone were to know anything, it would be Katherine.


    Katherine snorted and took another long sip from her glass, "I more than ''know of him'', he was my superior a time back- James Everett."


    He squinted slightly, raising a brow, "That''s awfully useful information never to tell me. You have connections with a high-standing military officer?"


    "Connections? No nothing like that. I guarantee you, if James knew where I was right now I''d be in a cell," At that, Katherine''s eye twinkled with mirth, "And trust me, he''s no use to you or your cause."


    "I''d disagree," Alistar pinched at his chin thoughtfully. "Arabella''s news about him being replaced got me thinking. He''s a commoner but was able to get to the position of Major, that sort of thing is unheard of. Not to mention he''s being replaced because his handling of the commoner uprisings up North are ''unsatisfactory''." He sent a questioning look Katherine''s way who simply allowed him to ramble on in intrigue. "Do you think he''s aiding the uprisings in secret?"


    Alistair was no stranger to the climate of the North. From the information he''d gathered from his time in the palace, there was an extended effort to quiet the uproar of commoners going against their lords. It was all very ''hush-hush'', barely reported in commoner papers let alone aristocratic ones.


    Katherine''s visible eye narrowed in thought for a brief moment before she pulled out a cigarette to light, "Optimistic, but that''s not the man I know. If he''s failing to obey commands, that''s a definite sign something is up..." She raised the cigarette to her lips before letting out a long, slow exhale. "James is a stick in the mud. Always has been. It''s more likely something akin to self-sabotage." A slightly amused huff left her. "Too moral to stop it, too uptight to break the rules. That''s what I''d bet my money on."


    He lifted his gaze from the table back to Katherine as a realisation dawned upon him, "...He was Major since back when you were in the military? But..."


    Pausing mid-inhale, Katherine''s sharp brow raised in acknowledgement. "By now, he''s probably been serving longer than the actual General has. Still, he''s only ''Major'' Everett."


    The unspoken reason settled between them- a bitter acceptance. It wouldn''t matter how much of his life Everett dedicated to his service, nor if he was a better leader than any other soldier; He wasn''t noble. It was no secret that high-ranking positions were political favours to the aristocracy more than anything else... Which made his ascension all the more intriguing.


    The fact that Alistair had even the vaguest memory of meeting the man meant that Everett had lasted in his position at the very least for another 2 years despite the odds. If his second chance was for anything it was to not squander any opportunity that arises.


    And Major Everett was nothing but an opportunity.