Withering Petals

Chapter 10: Unraveled Secrets

"There are no secrets that time does not reveal."

"Um, Father?" You squeaked, ducking your head sheepishly. You knew that tone. It was the equivalent of 'you're getting into big trouble.'

"Ca-Cashel?" Marchioness Duclair gasps, shock and a mixture of emotions that you couldn't decipher flashing across her attractive features. Your father immediately freezes in his tracks, stiffening. You were slightly confused, since no one called your father that, especially not the nobles. They always referred to him as 'The Knight's son' or 'Viscount de Luna', as of late.

However, you didn't dwell on it too much, because you were too busy trying to save yourself from his wrath. You would have noticed the way Marchioness Duclair's eyes reddened, or the way your father's shoulders start shaking, had you been more alert. But alas, you were oblivious to the tension that hung in the air like thick, dark clouds until it became so thick that you could slice it with a knife. That didn't happen until much later, though.

"Viscount de Luna, a pleasure to see you again." Patrick spoke up, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere while the marchioness and your father were still staring at each other--one in disbelief, and the other in unspoken accusations.

"A pleasure indeed," your father said gruffly, finally pulling his gaze away from the stunned-to-silence marchioness. His eyes were hard, a sign that he was on the brink of snapping at someone--anyone, but he managed to maintain his composure.

"I'm afraid we're running short of time," he finally gritted out, inclining his head in a mock bow. "Until next time, Marchioness Duclair," he sneered, like her title was something that he resented with all his heart. As he marched away without another word, you remained rooted to the place where you had been standing for the past few minutes. What was all that? Sneaking a glance at Patrick, you tried to search his gaze for an answer--anything that could explain the situation, only to find that his emotion reflected yours.

It didn't make sense. None of it did. You didn't remember this scene from your past life. If anything, you've never seen the two of them--the Marchioness of Duclair and your father--together before. Never in the same room. Even in your past life, it was always the same. Whenever someone mentioned her, your father would react in the most confusing of ways.

You didn't get any of this at all. What had happened between the two of them was not something that had taken place overnight. Certainly not in this life, no. It was something much more, something that you didn't understand. The history between them must be deep-rooted in emotions that were too extreme for you to even comprehend. Something that had taken place way before you had your first memories. You were sure of this, because you never had any memories of her.

Said woman was currently staring at you, an intense yet inscrutable expression on her face. You shifted slightly, unease settling into the pits of your stomach as you held her gaze unflinchingly.

Then, when you couldn't bear the weight of her stare anymore, you hastily excused yourself, and scurried back to the carriage.

➳➳➳

The ride back on the carriage was silent, save for the sound of wheels and hooves on the ground. Your father was staring out the window, his eyes distant. The lecture you had been expecting from him was probably long gone from his mind. You didn't know which one you'd prefer though--his anger or his silence. Probably neither.

So here you were, shuffling in your seat, never taking your gaze off your father as he stared at the road ahead, his expression blank. While you desperately wanted to voice your thoughts, to get the questions that have been plaguing your mind since the encounter answered, you didn't dare to do so. Not while he looked so...lost.