1705. Luck had never been on Eleanora Finley's side. After her father died in a tragic fire, she was left at the mercy of her domineering and abusive mother, being deprived of all love and affection.
Truly, who would have thought that the simple red...
Lady Finley, do come by my house for tea. Perhaps, we can talk and come to a compromise?
Marguerite le Prince
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1712, le Prince Manor, Fiorio
Eleanora had never set foot in Fiorio before, but now that she has, she discovered that she had not missed out on much after all. It was not underdeveloped, but it was far from a bustling city. Large, grand buildings framed the cobblestone streets, but they were rotting and crumbling, as if they were seconds away from collapsing.
Few merchants set up stalls by the roadside, and even fewer people were there to shop. Fiorio was like a ghost town, where there were more buildings than there were people. This place was desolate, depressing even, and le Prince Manor, where Marguerite lived, was no different.
In the past, le Prince Manor had been a grand, opulent baroque-styled castle with marble staircases and stained glass windows. In the garden, a fountain plated with gold was once erected, and the entire estate was filled with rose bushes. Not just any rose, at that. The late Countess favoured chrysalliere roses from Castelona, the most expensive kind.
Had it not been for their rapid, unprecedented downfall, the le Princes could have easily exceeded the ruling House of Lavilliers in terms of wealth, but as history would have it, their downfall did occur, rendering them destitute and penniless, and their domain, Fiorio, was essentially turned into a ghost town.
Eleanora had not taken the royal carriage today. Instead, she asked for one that was more discreet, so that her movements would not be so easily traced. She even went as far as to don a dull, conspicuous grey gown and hid her bright red hair underneath a bonnet, making her look no different than the maids that roamed the streets of Kestramore City.
As soon as she arrived at le Prince Manor, a slight, sweet-faced girl welcomed her.
"My lady, you can call me Jane," she introduced herself. "Allow me to show you to my mistress's room."
Eleanora nodded gratefully, and she closely followed Jane as they trod down the dark, cold hallways. Perhaps having grown used to the luxuries of the palace, the conditions of le Prince Manor horrified her, and she briskly rubbed her palms together, trying to generate even a bit of heat.
"We are here, my lady," Jane said, gesturing to a rickety wooden door that was slightly ajar. She went ahead and knocked on the door, then ushered Eleanora inside.
The first thing that she noticed was Marguerite's sickly sweet smile, beaming at her from across the room. A flash of unease suddenly filled her, and Eleanora found herself subconsciously clutching her abdomen.
"I knew that you would come, Miss Finley," Marguerite smiled coyly. "Come, take a seat."
Eleanora swallowed her displease and sat down opposite of Marguerite, though a wary look lingered in her eyes, letting Marguerite know that she was not pleased to be here.
