Heyah.
As I've said, Diana and Lizzie's story are somehow different. We are more focused on the family but romance will eventually come and omfg, it's *chef kiss*
Anyway, enjoy!
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Lizzie was left aghast that she was just blinking towards Garth with her mouth open.
You're going to get me killed, aren't you?!
"Don't worry Silver, once you can get out of the house, we can play outside. I'll teach you to ride a Belcan horse. You can watch me train, I'm pretty strong you know. You can visit the town square at festivals. The Teeth Tournament was pretty interesting. The man who can knock out most teeth from the other contestant wins!"
That is just wrong! But the thought of her riding a horse meant another faster way in her future self-elopement.
"Don't excite her with violent things," Erdan opposed. "You can stroll the Brifaniq Hills. The flowers there are rare and colorful. You can shop at Le'Ubue District too."
Slowly, Lizzie's mouth closed and she thought hard. That is, if, if they could convince the scum of a duke and not cower under his freezing eyes.
"Young Masters."
Her thoughts were interrupted by an older man's voice approaching them.
"Marquess Davitt," Erdan acknowledged. "Did you meet with His Grace?" Their steps paused. Lizzie turned to see a middle-aged man. Meow. The first word came to her mind.
"Yes, young master. I just sent a document regarding the proposed division of the emptied council seats. Perhaps you're meeting him as well?"
Although he was a nobleman with a rather good-looking appearance, his slanted eyes reminded her of the infamous fish and meat stealers of the slums—cats, by how his eyes flit at Erd and Garth then to Lizzie. "I see... the charming Lady of Norvillon. It's an honor to meet you." He extended his hand to ask for hers. "May I?"
She might not yet be too adept to the noble etiquette, but Lizzie was aware of such famous and basic salutation, asking to kiss her hand in greeting.
Ew.
Lizzie congratulated herself for keeping her disgust in check. Although it had no malice for an older man to pay respect to a young girl who ranked higher than him, Lizzie did not like the look in his eyes.
Sly and calculating.
Like cats.
Like street cats.
So instead, she buried her face in Garth's shoulders to hide her expression leaking out.
"Apologies. I overstepped my boundaries. It seems that the young lady is shy."
"It seems so..." Erd replied. "She's yet to be taught etiquette."
"If I may, I suggest my eldest daughter, Lady Rosalia. She may be young and just a few years after her debut, and not to praise my own blood, but she has been named as the perfect lady among her peers."
"Ah, we have heard of Lady Rosalia and seen her a few times in the past ball seasons, it seems she does reflect the noble values."
"For the Norvillons to seldom attend balls as you put duties first, it is an honor that you know of her. If so... may I send a formal application?"
"But a lady in her bloom years might be occupied." This time Garth joined the conversation. Compared to the time he spent with Lizzie and the rest of the household, he was as refined as Erd, worthy of a title. His voice was calm as flowery words of decline left his mouth, that the image of him teaching Lizzie how to kill a man seemed like an imagination.
"If it would help my lord's noble house, my daughter would wholeheartedly be of service. It would not take much of her time, as she currently has no betrothed."
"We will suggest your offer to the duke."
Marquess Davitt bowed and bid them farewell. Only then when they turned a corner farther from the still bowed noble, when Lizzie let out a sound she has been holding back in between the boring conversation.
"Meow."
Garth's shoulders shook as he covered his mouth to control the laughter.
"Meoooow~" She repeated, this time with her hands clenched as paws. One of the black knights, the blond one, snorted and both looked away biting their lips.
"You think so too, Lizzie?" Erdan remained calm, but his eyes curved into one of his scheming crescents. "You see... there are two kinds of Norvillon nobles. One, afraid and obedient. Two, those who pretend to be afraid and obedient. Which one do you think he is?"
Lizzie thought hard, the paintings of flowers on the walls passed like a blur, and found her most innocent, yet sly answer. "Cats steal fish when you don't look."
Finally, Erd's smile crawled down to his lips. "I like that answer."
The rest of the walk then revolved between the two devils.
"Garth, he's aiming for you to be his in-law."
"No, he's definitely after your neck for his Rosalia, future duke."
With Garth's slow steps rocking her and the passing view of the sky from the window, everything seemed so peaceful.
Why is this castle so big? The weight of her lids won and she rested her head once more on Garth's shoulder, his and Erd's voices cradled her to sleep.
It was a cold and quiet night when she woke up to a familiar room. The dim-lit lamp created dancing shadows as the toy mobile hung above her rotated, faintly chiming sounds as smooth crystals clash together. She stretched her hands but unable to reach the toys above her. Her fingers were smaller and rounder and the only sound that came into her mouth was gibberish and drool.
A figure stood by on her cradle. It smelled of all the mild scent of flowers in the world and for once, she wanted to touch such a familiar scent.
Instead of a warm greeting, a sad smile etched on the stranger's beautiful face.
"I'm sorry, love."
Then Lizzie woke up to a view of a ceiling with her hands outstretched. She was surprised by the flow of warm liquid in her eyes and blinked them away.
A dream. She sat up, with the sleeve of her dress, wiped moisture in her eyes while the other clutched her chest as if the beat was painful.
When she was somehow calmer and less disoriented, Lizzie realized she had slept on an awfully familiar couch of soft black leather and in an awfully familiar room with a high ceiling, thick books, and the scent of mint.
She froze to the rustle of paper to her right. Slowly but mechanically, she faced the source of the sound, to see Devanti Norvillon, casually lounging across the coffee table and reading documents.
"G-Good morning, Duke."
"It's half past dinner time."
"Oh..." and she had nothing left to say. How?! Why?! Where?! echoed in her head.
"When they entered, in protest for your freedom, you were already asleep."
"Erdie and Garthie left Lizzie here?" She rubbed her eyes dry once more. She can't have herself looking like she just woke up when she's about to die, can she?
He did not reply. The silence went on for countless tic-tocs of the frameless clock on the wall.
Hey, say something. You want me out or not? Want me dead or not?
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
Why are you asking? But she remembered her initial plan: Be a slave to him and conquer the household with cuteness. Then survive.
So Lizzie gulped down her embarrassment and any lingering fear, then climbed down the couch, waddled around the table towards him. "Duke." She pulled the sleeves of his shirt. "Duke, Duke... Lizzie had a nightmare. It was scary."
Only then, from the written and printed swirls of contract, proposals, and reports, he shifted his attention to her, cold and distant, but with no intent of murder as of now.
"About?"
So she had to give the performance of her life, she coaxed him to come closer after she looked left and right. She also extended her back and tiptoed for a whisper of the lie. "Somebody's trying to give you rotten cherries to kill you. But Lizzie ate the cherries instead, and then... and then, you were safe."
It was not her dream, nor she remembered the contents, but how could she explain the tears from a dream she couldn't recall?
His brows knit, one of the first emotions she had seen since they met. "And you, did you die?"
Hey, you have to praise me first. I ate the cherries for you.
"Nope, never. Lizzie got a strong tummy. Lizzie won't die. Never ever." Unless you slice my head, or pierce my heart, or push me off a cliff. But please don't. "Don't worry Duke! Lizzie is here to eat all the cherries. You won't die! I... pro... mise..." —Oi, aren't you too close?
Lizzie couldn't even blink, as the Duke swept a few loose strands of hair, and tucked behind her ear to examine her face, his hands slid under her chin.
"That woman... she did leave you behind. Same face and all... but you're quite upfront."
I'm kind of confused why you hate my mother, but okay, I'm just going to smile. Feeling blessed now?
Her stomach growled and saved her from the awkwardness. "Lizzie is hungry," she stated the obvious.
"You have your hands, eat." He cocked his head to the coffee table to which only then she noticed the tray of food covered in glass.
"For Lizzie?" Her eyes genuinely expanded in astonishment, and then squinted just as quick. "For Lizzie?" she repeated, couldn't even hide her suspicion.
No poison, right? Right?
"Eat." That was just all he said, leaned back on the couch, and watched her struggle forking her incredibly smooth tomatoes.
Yet, her body, could not keep up with her brain screaming "Do not make a mistake."
And now, she was staring at the disaster of yellow sauce splattered on Devanti's face. She chewed and swallowed her tomatoes, but the mushroom broth was tricky, especially if one has to have to pretend to cut its already soft meat with small hands.
Despite her vague sense of maturity, not everyone could pretend to be adults with etiquette as if they're born with it. The proof was the mess of sticky soup from her plate to his face.
Lizzie was confused about whether to laugh or fear for her life.
Devanti wiped his face with the handkerchief, his sight unwavering from her as if saying "Laugh and you die earlier."
Lizzie bit her trembling lips holding her laughter, and muttered "Sorry—" then she snorted until finally, giggles escaped her mouth. "Duke... sorry," she continued her insincere apologies. She only then stopped when the temperature dropped and she could feel the freezing warning from the duke.
"Etiquette... you must have your teacher as possible."
"Will... Lizzie study in her room all the time?"
"Have you reflected?"
"I'm sorry..." she mumbled. "Lizzie will listen. Lizzie will not go out without big people from the house. Lizzie will not fall in holes and Lizzie will not talk to strangers."
Well, she did reflect somehow. To their point of you, she is a child who talked to an unknown man that probably was an intruder of the tight Norvillon castle. But taking away her freedom isn't that righteous either.
"Duke, duke..." she asked after she gulped her honeyed water. "Why can't Lizzie go outside?"
"...it's dangerous. It's very dangerous outside." He almost whispered, still, his words weighed more in her ears.
She nodded, then ate in silence as he picked up his documents.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-