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XXIX. Sweetest Daughter Part IV

  I still couldn’t bear to look at my reflection, and even the passing glances I had at windows and mirrors made me shiver. Although the spring heat made it incredibly pleasant to be outside, reflective surfaces near me coiled with frost.

  Water chilled and began to freeze around me, but the constant movement and impurity made it impossible for my shaking hands to keep it in focus.

  Thankfully, I had Ophelia. Since I wasn’t able, nor willing, to look at myself to dress, she had taken upon herself to fix my attire. My house was a mess and reeked of stale air and acrid body odor, so she made me stay outside while she got it in order. I soaked in the tub with rosehip oil, until she finally exited.

  “Lady Hart, I have cleaned most of your abode save for two issues. One seeks your immediate attention, and the other is a question of immediate disposal.”

  I brought my white hair out of the water, and the soaking strands clung to my scarred skin. My green eyes fluttered as I turned to stare at her, and then immediately bounded out of my tub.

  Dangling between her dainty fingers and black nails was a rusted, sterling silver chain. The brooch was dirty, and the dull emerald refused to glisten even in sunlight. I ran towards her, but a single finger from her hand stopped my charge.

  “Give that back!” I shouted, arms flailing as Ophelia played keep away.

  “Lady Hart, this… trinket is made of alloyed silver with a low-quality gem. It is also incredibly stained. If the concern is your only adornment, I can acquire additional ones to suit your figure more steadily. Besides, your hair is not even red anymore.”

  I ignored Ophelia and lunged at it again, but her arm easily slid out of the way with no effort. “No! It’s special!”

  Ophelia’s face scrunched up, as she inspected my emerald necklace. “At least allow me to clean it, and maybe repla–”

  “No! I mean, you can clean it, but I want it left as it is.”

  “Did your mother gift it to you?”

  I pursed my lips, but my hand still shot towards it. Ophelia didn’t move away, allowing me to take possession of the chain, but her grip on the clasp didn’t falter.

  “Someone special did!” I responded, giving it a gentle tug. As soon as the strain became too much, it became clear that Ophelia wouldn’t yield.

  “Of course,” she said, her face slipping into scowl before returning to its neutral expression. She pushed me off the chain, rather easily if I could add, and then put the entire thing into her cold hands.

  Her hand balled up, and the strong smell of flames wafted out. Smoke drifted between the cracks of her fingers, before she opened it again.

  The shining silver chain glistened in sunlight, and the clasp was free of dirt and skin. The emerald however caught my eyes, and while it was dull before, I could see my reflection.

  I could see her reflection.

  I yelped, pushing back quickly.

  Ophelia instantly frowned, her eyes looking down at the necklace. “I only cleaned it, Lady Hart. It is not chan–”

  “N-no. You did a good job.” I repeated, before shakingly moving forward and taking the necklace off her hand. I lifted it to the sky to stare at the emerald once more.

  Rhyvesta had been quiet since I returned. I knew she awaited me in the basement, but each time I stared at my reflection…

  …I saw my veiled face looking back. The spidersilk shawl was draped against, and I heard the phantom tones of two voices speaking together in my ear.

  I wished it was my dearest mother peering at me, but I couldn’t handle my own judgement, let alone hers.

  I failed, after all. I heard screaming again, as my reflection replayed the scene over and over. Sophie and Xavier Florence sitting across from her and pleading for a moment. Sophie’s mouth opened again, and her words came out…

  “You Amaril-Damned Bitch…”

  “You’re one of them!”

  My hand shook, and my fingers began to twitch. My arm felt far too heavy, as my eyes fixated on the reflection.

  Ophelia’s hands touched mine, peeling the chain away from my fingers and then staring at the emerald herself. Her eyes scanned it, but her face was unreadable.

  “The emerald was untouched, Lady Hart,” She began, but I pushed my body against Ophelia’s. Her warm skin was pleasant, and my head rested against her shoulders.

  She gasped for a moment, before wrapping her arms around me, caressing my shoulder blades… and then pushing me off.

  “Lady Hart, you are still dripping wet, and in the nude. I believe if any of the townsfolk saw this, they would have you executed for violating Elora’s Edict.”

  “Be quiet, Ophelia,” I responded, and held her closer. I wanted to leech her artificial warmth, and stop staring at that thing that resided in the reflection. I shivered still, and Ophelia’s hands caressed my back.

  “As my Lady wishes,” she responded, staying in place, and moving her other hand to stroke my head.

  It still felt odd. It was comforting, but it didn’t feel the same way when Noel had done it. It felt more like when Jasmine was patting me, at least to me.

  And it didn’t feel like his grasp. I could feel her muscles, her biceps… and it didn’t excite me. But it comforted me. She reached around me, and clasped the emerald necklace against my neck.

  I rested my head against her shoulders for a moment longer, until the trembling faded away. I finally pushed off, wiping my eyes. “What was the second thing, Ophelia?”

  “You have this… attire sitting on your floor. I had tried to pick it up to set it aside, but it burned my skin.”

  I bit my lip, my eyes scrunching as I tried to figure out what she was talking about. I walked past her, but her arm wrapped around my waist.

  “I have also prepared you some clothing. However, I can not do anything about your scarred skin.”

  I nodded, and moved into my house. The abode, though small, was spotless. No dust, the food organized, and something was cooking over the hearthfire. Though it smelled delicious, my appetite hadn’t returned.

  In the center of the room was the void-black robe, tossed onto the ground – the only blemish on the pristine floor. I pushed off Ophelia to lean down and pick up the clothing, which felt as light as ever. I picked up the veil, the gloves, the boots as well, and then handed it to Ophelia.

  It didn’t burn her. Confusion was sewn on her face, but she shook it off. “My apologies, Lady Hart. I am not sure what came over me.”

  “I think it’s because I gave it to you. I don’t think… most people are allowed to touch Rhyvesta’s Gowns.”

  Her hand immediately stopped ruffling it, and moved to the shoulders to let it dangle properly. She waved it out to destress the wrinkles, but in the unending blackness of the dress, it didn’t seem to accomplish anything. “This is our mothers gown?”

  “A [Harvester] gown, actually. I don’t like it. If you could burn it, that would be fine.”

  “I will do no such thing, Lady Hart! A Gift from our Dark Mother. No wonder…” She began, staring at the darkness and the veil. “I would be honoured if I could see you wea–”

  “NO!” I began to tremble, holding onto my necklace until my hand bled darkening blood.

  Ophelia stared at me when I shouted, but nodded. “I… see. The other night.” She said nothing else, before moving to the closet, putting it back in its bag, and setting it aside.

  She then reached out to bring out a creamy white dress. It seemed oddly tight, with no straps around it. Likewise, it had a matching white scarf. She beckoned me forward.

  It took her a few minutes to place it on my body, and then another minute to tighten it. I didn’t have the breasts to fill out the front without her adjusting the fabric in the back, and then she draped the white scarf around my neck.

  “I look like a ghost, Ophelia.”

  “Ghost’s do not walk on heels, Lady Hart,” she responded, taking out sparkling white heels. She guided my feet to enter, and then immediately caught me as I stumbled forward. The dress was ruffled and pure in a way I couldn’t figure, and it covered my feet.

  “What is the point of shiny heels if noone can see them?”

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  “You… sit down, do you not, Lady Hart?”

  “Yes?”

  “...Your dress will come up.”

  “And people will look at my feet?”

  “If they do, I will pluck out their eyes.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Ophelia groaned, but waved me off. “Would you like me to escort you to Lord Birchigold’s place?”

  I stared at her, but she didn’t answer my question. I let it go, for now. “Of course.”

  She offered me her hand, but I looped my arm around hers. “Do not stumble now, Lady Hart.”

  “I have to say, if I knew two Ladies were coming to visit me, I would have asked my servants to make a better meal.”

  “Wait, you can control squirrels, Noel?”

  “...Why would you think I have squirrels as my servants, Kid?” Noel stated, pushing Ophelia and I some tea.

  “Because you said you’d ask your servants, and you’re a [Druid] –”

  “It was merely a jest, Lady Hart. Our exiled Lord was making light of the house call.”

  “Definitely not a housecall, Lady Hawthorne. Besides, you two are not my type.”

  “But I thought you liked me, Noel?” I asked, grabbing the offered cup of tea.

  “Ashley, I can never tell if you’re joking or you’re being serious.”

  “...So, you don’t like me?” I repeated.

  “Danu’s Breath… Lady Hawthorne, do you want to explain the wordplay.”

  “I do not, Lord Birchigold. It is improper for a Lady to acknowledge such a crass sense of humour.”

  “I don’t get it.” I repeated, and looked at Aywin. The elf, which I could tell by his ears, and the fact he had told me a few times already, stared at Ophelia with such a blank expression. “Aywin?”

  He said nothing, before Noel rubbed his head. “Ah! I sincerely apologize for my momentary loss of focus. I was not paying any attention to the conversation. I was distracted by that one.”

  I looked at Ophelia, then at her dress. I thought I was overdressed, but Ophelia and Aywin easily stole the room. Ophelia’s black gown still showed off her body, and the hem rolled onto the floor like a lurching shadow. She didn’t need her dress tightened to fill out the front.

  Aywin, on the other hand, wore such fine fitting clothes that exposed his chest that I couldn’t help but keep stealing glances. His angular face, his steely eyes, and his long hair came into sharp contrast with mine. He looked like a teenager, but a man, with such handsome… beautiful…? features.

  Noel, of course, wore normal clothing. His muscular body was easily on display, but between the two, I had my eyes on Aywin. Jasmine seemed to prefer the muscular type, and I was sure she had told me about an idle desire of hers just to rub her fingers against his muscles. I, however, just wanted to know how smooth Aywin was.

  “...vampire in our house,” Aywin finished, and only then, did I realize he was talking with his sing-song voice.

  “And there are two people in a farmhouse that do deserve execution, if you wish to throw barbs, Lord… Elf.” Ophelia shot out.

  “Aywin Mari’la-Zeppi-Kivandor-Markit.” He corrected.

  “Lord Birchigold’s Husband.” Ophelia finished, drawing out the word ‘husband’.

  “Can you teach me to look like that?” I blurted out, raising my hand out… and then stopping. Aywin, however, immediately grabbed my wrist and pulled me in. It was… not unflattering, but it was very unexpected. His soft hands gripped around my wrist, causing Ophelia to stand.

  His other hand however slowly traced my flesh, and moved upwards. “Lady Hart – “

  “You can call me Ash–”

  “It is Lady Hart,” Ophelia un-corrected me.

  “...Lady Ashley, then.” This compromise was worse than the others. “What happened to you to have such constant bruising around your skin.”

  I glanced down at my pale hands, and then pulled away! There was blood! Aywin had noticed it!

  Aywin’s grip tightened, not letting me go.

  “I need to wash it off! I’m sorry, I knew I should have worn something else, but Ophelia said it’d look cute!”

  “Lady Ash–”

  “Kid, what did you do to your skin?” Noel asked, finally walking away from his cooking cauldron to Aywin’s side. His face also joined that shocked expression.

  “I can’t get the blood off,” I slowly admitted. The two looked at each other, then at Ophelia.

  “What blood is she referring to?” Noel growled. His hand joined atop of Aywin’s, and his fingers slowly traced my veins.

  Ophelia said nothing, taking a drink of tea. “Lady Hart, this is a question for you. You did seek this lovely married couple for this reason, did you not?”

  “I’ve been trying to get this blood off me. Ophelia’s oil helped, but it won’t go away.” I admitted, taking my other hand and scratching at the blood.

  Aywin’s fingers immediately held atop of my hand. My body went red, deeper than the blood on me. His fingers clenched tightly. He turned his attention to Ophelia.

  “Speak, Night’s Daughter. What did you do to this one?”

  “I did nothing,” Ophelia continued. “And my name is Lady Hawthorne to your kind.”

  “I will not deem to refer to you as such a thi–”

  “You could just call her Ophelia too. She’s my friend as well. And Ophelia, his name is Aywin.”

  “Of course, Lady Hart,” Ophelia whispered, her blue eyes observing Aywin with a dead expression.

  “I shall endeavour to refer to her name politely then, for your sake, Ash–”

  “Lady Hart,” Ophelia corrected.

  “Lady Ashley,” Aywin stated, returning the stare. “So if it was not you cursing her to hate her own flesh, what had transpired, Lady Ashley?”

  “...May I speak to Noel, please?” I asked, looking away.

  “Kid, what’s wrong?” Noel said, his voice losing that tired drawl he had.

  “I… wanted your advice.”

  Noel looked at me for a moment, then my arms. His attention turned to Ophelia.

  “You swear you did not do this, do you, Lady Hawthorne?”

  “I would not harm my Mistress. She is doing it to herself.”

  “I feared as much. Ashley, this might be a conversation for all the adults in the room. Including your pet vamp–”

  “She is not my pet. She is my friend? I mean I also kissed her, so I think she might be my partn–”

  Aywin’s eyes twitched, before turning to Ophelia. “You dare insult my tastes and preferences when you are committing the same sin, cursed beast?”

  Ophelia’s eyes twinkled, and her lips carved into a smile. “At least I can admit I’m a sinner, ‘noble creature’.”

  Noel whistled for a moment. “Apologies. I’m usually better at figuring that out. You didn’t strike me as the type, Kid. I had figured you would have murder-suicided Adrian and Melissa, honestly.”

  “Not off the table,” Ophelia added.

  “What sin?” I questioned. “Besides, Noel.. I said, might. I’m currently having a hard time figuring a lot out, and I don’t feel… anything.”

  Noel’s eyes continued to stare at me. He then turned to Aywin, and Ophelia. “Both of you will remain silent unless I expressly give you permission.”

  Aywin nodded, and Ophelia just sipped her tea again. Noel took a deep breath.

  “I’m going to start with the simplest one. Is she your partner, wife, girlfriend?” Noel said simply.

  “I… don’t know. Ophelia swore fealty to me and I kissed her, but I don’t know.” I responded, tugging my arm away from Aywin.

  He did not let go, of either hand. Noel noticed, and said nothing.

  “And you’ve nothing against it, even with Elora’s Edicts?”

  “Isn’t her Edicts about committing to a Union?” I responded.

  Aywin opened his mouth, but Noel’s strong hand pushed against his shoulder. Aywin immediately closed it.

  “Yes, it is. That is how I would interpret it. It is not how others do. While I appreciate your honesty, kid - and you can always be honest with me - this isn’t something to start scraping your skin for. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “...I know?” I responded, raising my eyebrow. “I don’t see why Elora would care about who I love, but I am having problems… feeling my love. Ophelia doesn’t feel like uh…” I didn’t finish my sentence.

  “Adrian.” Noel finished for me. “Yes, that makes sense. Murder-Suicide is likely your faith, but I’m glad you’re going against it. Or trying to. But, and I repeat this with all my love, Ashley, if that’s not your concern, why are you scraping your skin off?”

  I frowned. “Don’t be silly. If Adrian died, I’d bring him back.”

  All three of them stared at me for a moment, before all three of them began to laugh. Noel held on for a moment longer, before slamming the table. “Definitely murder suicide.”

  I looked down at my hands. The crimson was so bright against the white tablecloth. Of course he saw it. He was a [Druid]; he knew when life was taken. There was no point in hiding what was painted all over me.

  “I killed four kids last week, threatened Bazerie, and I can’t get the blood off me. I tried Oil, I tried Lye… I need help, Noel.”

  The air stilled, and Aywin and Noel’s laughter stopped. Aywin’s grip on my hand tightened, but it was still soft and gentle. Noel, however, did not move.

  “You’re Death’s Daughter?”

  “...Rhyvesta refers to me as the ‘Sweetest Daughter’, actually. Wizex called me that and –”

  “You’re the one who did the Lyric Bay cult killing?” Noel continued.

  I bowed my head. The blood poured atop my arms, and I tugged at Aywin’s grasp. It dripped and stained his hands. “Let me go!”

  Ophelia rose up, her hand becoming claws. Noel rose his own hand, but with his palm open to her.

  “You two, get out. You will not kill each other. Ashley, you still like peaches, right?”

  “...Yes, but everything tastes like blood. I don’t want to ruin that too.”

  “Lady Hawthorne,”

  “Lord Birchigold?”

  “Take Lord Birchigold with you and acquire some Laudanum, Elvish Wine, and Candied peaches. I expect you both back within the hour.”

  His attention turned to me.

  “And Ashley, I am disappointed and angry at what I am hearing – but, you are safe here. When those two leave, I want you to tell me everything.”

  Aywin’s grip softened, and I immediately pulled away to scratch at the blood. Noel’s hands came atop of mine, and just pulled me into his chest for a hug. I closed my eyes, while the sound of footsteps rushing out of the room followed.

  I opened them again to see it was just him and I. I stared at his face for a moment, and felt his muscular arms against my back. I had only one thought running through my head.

  “If you have to tell, can you please not tell Adrian?”

  “...I’m not going to tell anyone, Ashley. But I need to know what happened.”

  “Are you going to kill me then?”

  Noel took a breath. “I’m not killing my little parasite. You need an adult, not more condemnation. Sit down, I’ll make you some tea.”

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