BABUR MANOR, SORAVAND BARONY
With weary steps, the family of five disembarked from their carriages, ambled towards their manor, their movements relaxed, and unhurried. The manor's servants stood at attention, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns, as they awaited the Babur family's arrival. As soon as Witnya slipped into her room, the soft glow of candles and the sweet scent of blooming flowers enveloped her, a soothing balm for her frazzled nerves.
Her tummy grumbled and a flare of weakness jolted through Witnya.
"Milady, are you okay?" Odette rushed to the weak girl. She helped Witnya to the bed and gave her a cup of water. Within seconds, the cup was emptied and returned to the maidservant.
"I don't think so." Witnya whispered as she clutched her tummy. She barely had anything since evening; she didn't even eat anything at the palace. "Nothing, I'm fine." She lied with a small smile.
Odette scowled. "But milady, you almost…"
"I'm just tired. Can you prepare a warm bath for me?"
The maidservant nodded with meekness, "Anything for you, milady."
Odette disappeared into the bathroom and Witnya used that opportunity to gather her scattered thoughts. She remembered how nervous she was at the ballroom, the little mishap between Sharlota and the waiter, and how she got lost in a hallway and bumped into a statue that magically became a handsome nobleman.
"About Lord Azazael…" She breathed. Strangely, she found him familiar when she stared into his eyes during their dance, as though she had encountered him somewhere. She couldn't pinpoint where and how but her head throbbed as she forced herself to remember. "Ahh…" She whispered as a sharp pain whistled through her forehead and wrists.
She vaguely remembered a blurry figure that was covered in murk and blood with pointy fangs and powerful claws. There was a faint outline of curved burning horns on his hair as darkness shrouded his red eyes.
"He is the one…" She murmured, the lit candles in her room flickered for seconds, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Milady, your bath is ready." Odette announced and Witnya broke out from her reverie. Sweat drenched her back and forehead, and her breathing became shallow.
Witnya gathered herself and stood up, forcing a smile at Odette. "Thank you. You can retire for the night, Odette. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, milady. Have a good night rest." Odette wished with a bow and left the bedroom with still steps.
The room became lonely and cold after Odette left. Witnya, on the other hand, walked up to the ornate mirror, her enchanting appearance mirroring itself. Her hair was let down with a glittery black rose flower at the side of her hair. Now, she could understand why most ladies gave her unfriendly looks, including her stepmother and Gisselle. She had let her hair down in public, and that was very blatant. She removed the rose flower from her hair and caressed it, admiring its rareness. Caressing the flower reminded her of the dance with Lord Azazael and her cheeks crimsoned. Carefully keeping the flower in a flower vase, she quietly got rid of her shoes, hat, and shawl.
After a while, she found herself in the bathroom that wasn't up to half of her bedroom but it was cozy and filled with the fruity scents of various homemade skincare products. She took off her clothing, and dipped herself in the warm bath water that was mixed with soothing herbs. She felt herself ease off as she submerged herself into the water. Buried memories engulfed her mind and she felt the softness of the nightly serenity tingle her memories.
On the other hand, in a stately manor reeking of opulence and luxury, in a particular bedroom with few furniture and very few candles burning, one could see the dreamy outline of a gainly youth with dark hair and eyes enshrouded with darkness, smoke from a burning cigarette adding to the sinful glamor.
'Seems like she's remembered.' There was a playful smirk on his lips as he puffed out the smoke lingering in his mouth. 'I was having the time of my life while you were away. I didn't miss you at all, but my couch did.' His catlike eyes flickered between bright red and dark red. A glint of despondency and irony was conspicuous in his eyes.
It was half past two in the midnight, the air was cold and dry, and the hoots of owls filled the uncanny atmosphere. The moonless sky was hazy as though wrapped in a gauze as clouds gathered and the rumbling of thunder could be heard. Witnya saw herself in a dense forest filled with very tall trees and thick fog. The cold air bit into her pale skin and she shuddered immensely.
"Where am I?" She whispered, her skin white as a blank sheet. Her lips were blue and she felt heavy. She looked down and saw that she wore a very thin light gray gown with her hands and feet bare.
Faint whispers echoed in her ears and they sounded familiar.
"Who are you?" She whispered back, drunken with fear.
"Have you forgotten me already? It's me, darling…" She saw a figure with dark red eyes flying nimbly towards her. A crooked smile appeared on his face and Witnya's eyes widened. Her mouth was wide agape, an earsplitting scream escaping from it.
"Ahhh…!" Witnya screamed and woke up, drenched with perspiration. Her heart rammed against her ribcage, and her breathing was shallow. Her eyes were dilated and she couldn't gather her frenzy thoughts.
'A nightmare? Him again?' Witnya cried within her and soon, her family members gathered in her room.
Questions and questions were barraged at her and Witnya felt numb.
"What happened to you? Did you see a ghost?" Gisselle asked, fright could be noticed in her voice, and she was quivering.
"Why did you scream at this ungodly hour? What happened to you?" Lady Jessamine inquired; a hint of annoyance could be noticed on her expression and tone.
"Was there an intruder? Did anyone hurt you? Witnya, you need to talk to us…" Sharlota added and her eyes roamed about the bedroom in a wary manner.
"Did you have a nightmare? What did you dream about?" Lord Kazeem asked. "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, do you want me to keep you company? I could sing a lull…"
Witnya took a deep breath and replied to the questions barraged at her. "It's just a bad dream, I'll be fine."
Lady Jessamine grimaced, her thin eyebrows drawn together. "So you got us worried for nothing. Moreover, you're not a kid anymore; you're sixteen years old, not six, Witnya Von Babur."
"Jessamine! Is that all you can say?" Lord Kazeem glared at his wife.
Jessamine rolled her eyes. "She got us worried for nothing; you should be scolding her, not me."
"I'm sorry for the trouble, it won't happen again." Witnya apologized timidly, waiting for them to leave her room.
"It's alright." Lord Kazeem and Sharlota said in unison, worry and embarrassment etched on their faces.
Lady Jessamine snorted, "Gisselle, let's go since it is something unimportant." Lady Jessamine and Gisselle left the bedroom. Few minutes later, Lord Kazeem and Sharlota left the bedroom after reassuring Witnya. After the four left, Witnya felt a hollow in her heart and a tear rolled from her reddened eyes.
In the morning, rays of the morning light spilled on the Babur manor, heralding a new dawn. The cool summer breeze awakened the trees, the fanfare of birds announcing the coolness of the morning. In the kitchen, the aroma of baking bread and sizzling meat filled the air, and that was what woke Witnya up. She was hungry.
Breakfast in the Babur family was a typical type by which the patriarch, Lord Kazeem, had his breakfast while listening to the daily news that was read aloud by the internal butler, Anatoli. The patriarch's wife, Lady Jessamine, as a dutiful wife and lovely mother, would ensure that the children were well-mannered as she chatted with her husband.
"This is the daily news from Qurban Prints, located at Tavett Carriageway in Sahib Town…" The butler started reading the newspaper delivered by Qurban Prints. Qurban Prints was the principal printing house in Soravand Barony and beyond.
"…On a Feria Quarta in the middle of summer in the thirty-fifth reign of Soudan Nutlu Mustafa Valdemar Al-Romanov, at the Kalindi Palace in the capital city, Jagurabad, a grand celebration was held and it was a huge success as prominent figures were invited, and it would remain indelible in the hearts of the people of Jagnubia. Indelible, for the reason that the aristocrats from Oulton and Azakherjan and beyond graced the event with their presences. The Unflawed Three, and the beautiful blonde dancer who is suspected to be the daughter of a Baron, cannot be disregarded because of the impeccability they imparted…. Soudan Nutlu Mustafa Valdemar Al-Romanov wishes to thank those who made the birthday celebration of his third daughter, Shahzadi Katiry Jameele Al-Romanov, an extraordinary celebration…." Anatoli recited in his monotone voice, which sounded very dull to the ears of Lady Jessamine and Gisselle.
At the mention of 'beautiful blonde dancer', all eyes turned to Witnya who had her eyes downcast and barely ate anything on her plates. Her mind was plagued with the dread of the nightmare and she couldn't get it off her mind. After the nightmare, she couldn't sleep a wink because of the smug expression on Azazael's face, his red eyes and pointy fangs blared in her mind anytime she closed her eyes. As her eyes were lowered and her thoughts drifting away from the table, she hadn't noticed that everyone was looking at her.
"Witnya…" Sharlota softly called. "You haven't eaten anything, don't you like the food?"
Witnya became taut when she heard her name. "I am not hungry, I feel a bit unwell."
"Then you should pay a visit to the physician as soon as possible," Gisselle stated with a snort. "What if it becomes a troublesome ailment in the future?"
Witnya was sure that a visit to the physician will not do anything as it pertains her psychology and mental health; it would be a waste of time and energy. "Thanks for your concern but there's no need for that, I will be fine after a proper bed rest." She said with her eyes still downcast.
"Then rest it is, lunch will be brought to your chamber," Lady Jessamine said with a small smile. "About the grand celebration, how was it? Did you girls snag any big fish?" She looked at the three girls at the table with a refined smile and gossipy expression, which made Lord Kazeem and Butler Anatoli grimace.
'What is she teaching these girls?' Kazeem thought with a headache.
Gisselle and Sharlota couldn't stop talking about the grandeur and splendor of the celebration. Witnya only muttered a word of passable satisfaction.
"Mr. Naum promised to send letters and gifts to me this week, isn't that auspicious?" Gisselle gloated. Her eyes filled with bliss that she had snagged a big name all to herself.
Witnya and Sharlota were surprised. "You should be thinking about your education as a prim lady, not running after men beyond your reach. Besides, Mr. Naum is too mature for you, he's forty-seven years old, and that's more than twice your age, Gisselle." Sharlota harrumphed, and the same thought appeared in Witnya's mind.
"Furthermore, when the two of you stand together, one would think that you are his kid. You should keep your eyes on younger boys, if possible your age bracket. I heard that Cohen indicated his interest in you and you demeaned him, you didn't spare his siblings that tried to plead on his behalf. You should leave Mr. Naum for women like Ms. Matrona and her friends." Witnya said in a very low voice such that only Witnya was meant to hear it but the dining hall was extremely quiet, hence everyone heard it including the guardsmen at the door.
Gisselle's face flushed and her fists were clenched. "WITNYA!" She growled.
Ms. Matrona was an unmarried woman who was almost forty years old; she was popular for rejecting marriage proposals when she was a young lady. Her friends, Yekatarina, Ingrid, and Dunya were famous for their arrogance when they were very young; hence, their admirers became fewer as they got older. As of the moment, they were rumored to be mistresses of some big shots.
"Sharlota and Gisselle are right, stay away from Mr. Naum and have your eyes peeled on your age mates." Lady Jessamine softly said.
"Table manners, please, young ladies." Anatoli softly reminded the three young girls with a short bow.
Gisselle glared at the butler and she harshly scolded him, "Shut up, you old wizened trash from some forgotten badlands! Who are you to talk to me in such manner?"
Sharlota couldn't stand Gisselle's annoying attitude hence she scolded her. "That's rich, coming from…you, Gisselle. In case you have forgotten, let me remind you. Butler Anatoli has been serving this family for over three decades, so please, treat him with respect. His father served my great grandfather and my grandfather before he passed away, therefore, his opinion counts in matters concerning the Babur family. Of course, you won't understand such petty issues since you're from a blended family but the fact that we don't mind your imprudence doesn't mean you should step on our toes."
Gisselle gave a cold chuckle and sneered, "Tsk. One would think that you have something with Butler Anatoli, with the way you always protect him…passionately."
The dining hall was silent and Sharlota seethed in anger. "GISSELLE! Watch your tongue…!"
At that moment, a portly-looking servant scurried into the dining hall, panting and huffing as though pursued by scary masquerades. He sensed that the atmosphere was not good-natured so he kept quiet; it was then that the family at the table noticed the portly man whose chubby cheeks were rosy. He must have heard what Gisselle said.
"Osip, what is it?" Butler Anatoli asked the servant with an embarrassed cough and a glare.
The portly servant named Osip bowed deeply and said with a shrill voice, "Butler Anatoli, Earl Cathasaigh's son, Young Lord Nikolai Valtor, is on his way here."
At that moment, shock appeared on Sharlota's face. Baron Kazeem was calm and collected as he had traded few words and works with the father and son in the past, as expected of a lord of a territory. The smile on Lady Jessamine's smile grew brighter as her gaze occasionally lingered on the three girls. Gisselle's eyes widened and a dreamy smile slowly appeared on her face. Only Witnya frowned when she heard what Osip said.
'What does Young Lord Nikolai wants from my father's manor by this time? Maybe, business issues?' Witnya thought with a scowl. It was quarter to seven in the morning, which could be considered 'too early' for someone to visit her father's manor.