Walter de Ville's Advocate

Chapter Seventeen

TW: Emmaline's suicide is shown here. It's already been in the tags, and mentioned prior, but it's delved into more here and worth the mention.

This was inappropriate. It was uncouth.

But it had to be done.

I had tried to focus on the dinner for nearly a half hour, but my mind was obviously elsewhere. The conversation was dull since everyone was still trying to get passed the indecent and ostentatious display by Evie. When Mr. Field had informed me that he'd brought the maid back to my study, no one seemed surprise at their host and master bidding farewell early for the night.

Perhaps I would come back, but I didn't expect to, and they were told to enjoy themselves fully despite my departure. With my head butler under orders to get them anything they desired, I walked out into the foyer, eyeing the door to my private study.

I was incensed, and knew that this was the quickest way to quell that anger – well, one of the quickest ways – but I surprised myself when I diverted out to the back patio to gaze up at the stars and the moon, obscured by the clouds rolling in. We'd likely get a storm tomorrow, and that was just as well.

"A walk," I reasoned, setting off for the trail around the lake, but I only made it a few steps before something caught my ear. Voices.

I glanced to the foundation of the manor, seeing one of the low windows that would reach the height of the ceiling in the cellar . . . and the dungeon.

Creeping closer to the wall until my back was flush against it, I listened to the words exchanged by my wives and my new bride.

"You don't seem to be understanding the concept of a bachelorette party, Evie," Viktoria hissed in a melodic tone. "Perhaps we aren't gallivanting around the city, seeking debauchery and drink," she walked around the stone floor, her heels clacking against it. "Actually, I could go for a drink."

Evie whimpered; her cries muted by the gag I had watched them tie to her in the dining hall.

"We cannot," Lucy reasoned. "The master will be furious with us."

Viktoria laughed. "Did you not see our master? He is displeased with her, and I am in charge of Evie's festivities tonight. Moreover, did you not see the way she looked at us; looked at you?"

Lucy groaned for a fraction of a second. "She's never seen anyone like us. I would've been shocked if that were my introduction to being the master's bride." Lucy's heels clicked, presumably towards my eldest wife, as her voice dropped low, "Why didn't he stick to the plan? I thought he would tell her tomorrow, not have a maid killed in front of her. Humans consider that murder."

There was a silence that stretched before them, but then Viktoria chuckled. "He changed the plan as he saw fit. He is our master, and you know how volatile his decision-making can be."

I furrowed my brow at that, hearing that her impudence grew when not in my presence. I had gifted this opportunity to her, and she speaks of me that way with the others? I gritted my teeth, now prepared to exchange my walk for eavesdropping.

"And with this advantageous whore walking around like she owns the place," Viktoria sneered, "it's no wonder that the master would react the way he did. You don't understand, Lucy. You're not as strong-willed like us."

Evie's cries had grown louder, and Lucy shushed her gently, "Hey, no, no, no. Don't cry. We'll soon be just like sisters; three perfect, little dolls for the master."

"Please, let me go," she whispered between sobs, her gag clearly removed.

"Enough, already!" Viktoria bellowed. "Even your great-grandmother wasn't this difficult . . . till she refused to feed on the help." Her heels clicked about the room, "Truly selfish act. She put us all in jeopardy."