Lizzie of the North (Yrsoreth Chronicles 2)

30 ◦✿◦ Lizzie in Orange

They scheme. And they scheme well.

She wiped the swelling tears in her eyes before they dropped.

"Did I permit you to enter?" the stranger asked Marquis Davitt, unusually displeased.

The latter apologized. The stranger stood, his dark mood had once brightened turning to the terrified Lizzie. "I'd be worried if you run away. So stay here, understood?"

She bit her lip. In their eyes, she might look like a pitiful girl trying her best to hold it together. And she is. Lizzie was afraid but not a coward enough to let them have the last word.

"My Papa will come for you," she warned, boring her calm yet threatening gaze, too unusual for a child. Tears finally rolled on her cheeks, but her eyes were like an omen of death. "So you better look out."

"The insolence to threaten H-!" Marquis Davitt was cut off by the stranger. "It is what I'm hoping, young Lizzie... It is really what I'm hoping for."

Then she was left alone.

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Lizzie did not know how long had she sat in the corner of the room. The soup had long gone cold, along with bread that was hardened by chill seeping through the micro spaces of her lodgings. It must be night now, that no ray of light passed through the crevices and the room was dark.

For a hut, it had no windows, but it was made comfortable with stacked hay, covered in thick layers of soft linen as a bed. There was even a table and a pair of chairs.

Lizzie opted for the corner, as she hugged herself against the wooden floorboard. She didn't even touch the linen to protect herself.

The duke never warned her about using the provided linens from abductors, but she added it to the rule. Her stomach growled, she endured. Upon living in the castle for months, her body has adjusted to the pampering that her current hollow stomach was almost unbearable.

The only left of her was the other half of Alec's present, now adorning her ear. The bread she kept has long been confiscated by Orna, who was the strictest among the three maids. Lizzie also stopped hoarding supplies once she realized the story changed.

It was a stupid idea. "Ouch," she mumbled after she smacked her head. Her self condemnation ceased by the sound of hushed conversation outside, a little ray of light piercing through the crevices as thin as a strand of hair.

She could not hear all the words, but the two male voices seemed to have a small debate. One had a reluctant tone and the other was repeating 'orders' and 'obey.' Then there was silence.

The light of the lamp from the door became brighter and Lizzie somehow appreciated the interior of the room. The chill receded and she was somehow thankful for the warmth.

They were pretty accommodating huh, she thought. That sneaky Davitt. And that blond man too. I hope you both drown in Gibworm's poop.

Lizzie's comfort was short-lived. The warmth increased along with the light from the outside. No, not a mere secondhand illumination, but flames.

The hut was burning.

As the smoke was slowly crawling in from all corners, the flames consumed the wood from the outside, like a dragon slowly licking its meal with its flaming tongue until the hut collapses.

Lizzie prayed that it won't. She had long abandoned her corner and banged the door.

"...anyone! Anyone!"

Only the crackles of the fire responded, like the laughter of looming death. One part of makeshift lumbers for the ceiling crashed on the makeshift bed and just as quickly, burst into flames.

Lizzie screamed. The image of the fire in the orphanage replayed in her head.

Was this her karma of leaving Willen and the other sick children of that sick room? She did her best, she did. She even put Willen on her back to carry her out. At least one, she wanted to save one of them. But Willen herself slapped her out of tears and told Lizzie to save herself.

At that time, she succumbed to her instinct of survival and jumped through the window.

Yet now, there was no one for her to save nor to tell her to save herself. There was no way out either. Her small body couldn't even smash through the flaming walls. She couldn't dig her escape through the wooden floor either. And even her screams were swallowed by the raging fire.

The ends of her long silver hair already untangled and glittering against the devouring orange, had now caught the fire. Lizzie desperately put them out with her mind already swallowed with fear. She couldn't even feel the burning of her palm as she clapped the flames out of her mane. Her lungs were already filled with smoke and her eyes, blurred.

Her clothes were burning too. I kinda like this one, she thought. I hope Papa won't be mad.

And with her final thought, Lizzie slept in the flames.

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L

ast chapter next for season 1 next update ♥