Misty's cries seeking forgiveness had reduced to the mess of snot and wet face by the time the door opened and the Lady walked in.
Ada gave Misty a side glance. She would have called her pathetic if it were not for her own legs trembling like a newborn calf as she stood up. Even in her scared disposition, she instantly noticed the Lady looked paler but her movements sharper. Her eyes were focused on the ground and her jaw ticked. Walking towards the bed, she sat down with a deep breath, running her fingers on her jaw in hopes of unclenching it.
Ada had moved away from the bed and stood near Misty who was still kneeling.
Profound silence.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lady Kiara asked. "I forgot to ask your names."
"Forgive us for not introducing ourselves sooner!" Misty hollered, lowering her head and touching it to the ground. She lightly tugged at Ada's skirt, who was staring at the Lady's face.
Ada reluctantly knelt, bowing her head. She guessed it was the Lady's guards whose blood she smelled, otherwise, they would have been standing at their posts. And with her mouth set in an unforgiving scowl, her bright round face fused with frightening coldness, her doe eyes burning with the bloodlust of a tiger— Ada precisely predicted the Lady was not the kind to dissolve in tears when tragedy strikes. She was the kind who was tenfold acerbic then the misfortune and the kind who pushes back with twenty fold vigor.
"Stand up. Tell me your names already. Blonde one?"
Ada shuddered at the crisp, acidic undertone of her voice.
"Ada, my Lady." Ada stated with her head low and voice lower. Nobility knowing a servant's name rarely ever favored the latter.
"Misty, my Lady."
"Ada and Misty." The Lady repeated, "Which one of you held the bucket?"
Ada's breath hitched. Misty was quick to rat her out.
"It was Ada, my Lady!" She cried and sank down to her knees quite dramatically.
Ada saw Lady Kiara raise an eyebrow at the antics before shifting her eyes to her.
Unable to keep the eye contact for more than a second, Ada shut her eyes and fumbled with her eye patch nervously. She gulped as her throat went dry and her body heated up.
"I had nothing to do with what happened, she did it!" Misty continued beside her. "She had always been—"
"Very well, Misty. Must you wail so incessantly? Your high pitched screeches are giving me a headache," Lady Kiara grumbled as she rubbed her forehead.
"Off you go, girls." She waved her hand and plopped down to lay on her bed. "Patience has never been the field I excel in and dealing with you would need quite a much of it." Ada's face burned from the dangerous glint in her eyes as the Lady openly stared at her with an unnerving smile.
Ada could have sworn she had not seen Misty running faster than today.
"Ada." The Lady called out her name from behind. Her hand halted at the door handle. She turned around, eyes on the ground, hands clasped on the front. She gulped before it occurred to her despite all the Misty's ramblings, she was yet to apologise to the noble woman.
Fool.
Utter fool.
That's all I am.
"My Lady—" Ada let her knees hit the floor with a thud. A shuddering breath escaped her mouth. Her eyes widened in alarm.
"I— Forgiveness is all I beg for, my Lady. It was nothing but my mistake. However, ill intentions never were a part of it. I didn't do it on purpose—"
"Ada." Honey dripped from the lady's voice. Ada gulped. With hesitant hands, she adjusted her eye patch.
"You speak well. I am moved."
Ada saw the lady swing her feet to the side of the bed. Her sandal clad feet clicked against the floor as she approached her and paused mere inches away.
A long, slender finger was pressed against her forehead. The skin was rough. The lady applied little pressure on her forehead and tilted Ada's face up.
"My heart earns no pleasure talking to the people who find floor more enticing then my face." She flicked her forehead. "Undivided attention is what I desire. Is it understood?"
"Yes, yes, my Lady," Ada stuttered, wide eyed.
"Good girl." Lady Kiara smiled. "Now, please do stand up. I only wished to tell you we will be meeting again soon."
"I—" Ada was at loss of words. Was she not being punished for what she did?
"Mistakes happen." As if she could read her mind, the Lady shrugged. "Besides, I have something to ask of you. In the stead of an apology and exchange of sparing you from punishment." She smiled as she backed away.
Ada wished she was punished rather. For the smile the lady adorned, it spoke of nothing but trouble. She remembered the incident from the morning and trembled. Lady Kiara seemed to be a pinch of berserk.
"You may leave now," the Lady said and tossed a candy in her direction unexpectedly. Ada fumbled but caught it.
"Good catch," she complimented and turned around to walk towards her bed.
"Enjoy—" she said over her shoulder as she ate a candy herself. "Close the door behind you."
Hesitant, Ada blinked rapidly before curtsying and walking out of the door.
What a weird woman.
----------------
Ada slightly pushed the stout door of the blood cellar and through the limited space, stepped into the unlighted and cold room, hastily locking it after her.
The last chore of the day. Then I can finally have dinner and call it a night, Ada thought to herself as she held out the jar full of fireflies in front of her while clasping a basket in her other hand.
She could not wait to get back to fill her belly and go to bed. The day was hectic. She had decided it would be the best for her if she tells Mrs Smith about how she bathed the fiancee of the Young master with the dirty water Misty was supposed to mop the floor with. For all one knows, she might get some relaxation in her punishment if she tells the truth. Even if Lady Kiara forgave her then, who knows— if she changes her mind— what would happen of her.
Accordingly, she searched for Mrs Smith all over the mansion but could not find her for a while and when she finally did, the elder woman simply brushed her off and gave her chores to do.
She had washed clothes, washed the dishes, swept the floor of the dining halls, then mopped it, ironed the clothes, folded them, cleaned the bathtubs of the community bathroom; all the while, alert and vigilant of any suspicious smell or sounds around her.
Amidst all the huffing and puffing, however, her ears picked up a rather riveting news: The Marquess of Vamtip, the son of the elder brother of the Count Phillips, Edith Monroe was expected to reach the Monroe mansion in the upcoming week.
Ada tried reminiscing about any significant occasion in the offing, but she could recollect nothing of that sorts being mentioned by anyone. Hence, the news of his sudden arrival was undoubtedly queer.
More often than not, the arrival of such close kin was a routine in most families. However, the Monroe family was anything but normal.
When she had arrived here, a little over two years ago, the insanity pumping through the blood of this highly dysfunctional family almost gave her a heart attack. From the questionable ways of the eldest son to the senseless pattern of behavior of daughter, the only inferential person seemed to be the Countess. She refused to pass any judgment on the Count since he was scarcely ever home.
To make it worse, a little after half a year she had started working here, the elder brother of Count Phillips, Late Marquess John Monroe had visited the mansion along with his son, Edith Monroe.
Ada thought she had grown well accustomed to the craze but the underlying tension that shrouded the atmosphere of the mansion during their agonizing stay of a week made her want to blanch.
The rumors and gossips about the Marquess and his son among the maids and servants were alarming. There were so many of them. But the ones which stuck with her were those which questioned the legitimacy of Edith Monroe.
No. She had reproached herself when her mind trailed on the same line of thoughts. I have no right to do so.
The awkwardness among the family members was painful for her to watch. She pitied them for what they were missing out. Albeit lost, her family was very close-knitted. She could not imagine being this uncomfortable with them.
The anxiety had a long-lasting impact on the Monroes. Hence, even after months of the unwelcomed guests' departure, they were vexatious. They snarled and bared their fangs at any given opportunity, lunging on the servants for blood often.
Ada had somehow managed to stay safe but Mrs Smith was not this fortunate. She refused to tell who, but Ada knew someone had bit down her throat when she descried the elder woman rounding the corner of the hallway one night with reddened face, dazed eyes, disheveled hair. A stream of blood was dripping down her neck, her uniform was soaked with blood.
The sight was ghastly. She felt rage burning her core, heart pumping with wrathful vigor. But the mere glimpse of tears seeping out of the elderly woman's eyes extinguished the flames as soon it started burning.
It was hard for Ada to convince her, but she had agreed to let Ada stay the night in her room so she can watch over her.
Ada shivered a little. She was not sure if it was because of the memories or the drop in temperature as she was inside the cellar.
Finally, it was the last chore of the day. As she walked forth inside, she took a glance beside her. Tinge of genuine disappointment and irk seeped in. She huffed at the sight of the thick wall of marble and walked faster. Two guards, probably half-blooded vampires because they were the only ones who can see in such darkness, were stationed at the second door.
She gave a quick bow and handed him the paper which she had kept inside the basket.
"The kitchen needs these," she informed softly.
The guard opened the door and handed the paper to the other guards stationed inside the cellar. He swiftly jumped into action and took a hold of a shovel.
Ada looked around at the room. Several large pulleys hanging from the roof made of marble, aligned on top of the respective containers they were supposed to pull.
There were signboards to indicate the type of blood the container had. The room reminded her of the story her grandmother used to tell her when she was a child about how three centuries ago, the vampires used to either frequent nearby villages and towns to quench their raging thirst, or worse, used to keep slaves just for feeding purpose.
It was a barbaric practice. The people were terrified, especially humans, because they were the weakest. It was that time when councilwoman Mary Sherling, a young witch and Duchess of Breathmount, late Lady Luna Harrison, a pureblooded vampiress, along with few fellow councilwomen and men, decided to step up to resolve the issue.
It was Mary Sherling who had designed the fundamental structure of present day's blood cellars as well as suggested ideas for blood preservation from volunteers. The Duchess Luna provided every necessity for her trials and experiments while giving her protection despite the disapproval of her husband, the Late Duke of Breathmount, Nicholas Harrison.
The blood cellar was a large, double-walled area with a muddy floor, present in almost every aristocrats mansion. It was strategically located at such a location where there was no direct sunlight irradiation. Sometimes, they were even made underground.
Both the walls and the roof were made of marble with water filled in between the walls to ensure proper insulation. The water was replaced regularly and directed out through an outlet to a nearby lake or river stream.
The area inside the walls was always kept flooded up to knee-length and large containers made of iron were kept in the holes dug in the ground. In these containers, tubes filled with blood were kept. The water of the area as well was changed after every two to three days through the outlet and inlet channels to and from the nearby river. No candles or lamps were allowed inside the blood cellar to ensure low-temperature conditions were maintained which were essential for blood preservation.
All these efforts from Ms Sherling's and the Duchess' side and to get what?
Mary was burnt alive by the people of her town for practising witchcraft and the Duchess went missing shortly after. Presumably murdered in cold blood.
It always made her sad how unfair the world was.
It was already night time when she finally stepped out of blood cellar with her basket filled with six one litre tubes of juvenile blood.
She was quick to place it in the pantry as Mrs Smith had directed her. There was no one in the kitchen as the other maids and servants often preferred to eat in their rooms, gossiping and chatting. Her portion of food was left on the slab. It was not much, a bowl of vegetable soup and some rice, but it was more than enough for her. She was grateful she at least had something to eat.
She sat down cross-legged on the ground and started eating. She could not help but think of her younger brother.
Did he eat anything today?
Her throat tightened at the thought.
Eating suddenly became a struggle.
But it was necessary.
Hence, as she forced the lukewarm rice down her throat with large gulps of soup, her mind wandered in the long-forgotten corridors of her sweet past.
She was the eldest and the most spoiled one. It was a rule back at home, no one started eating until Ada did. They would always wait for her to get back from the forests where she went to collect either the woods or the herbs.
Even when she was late, her brother would smother her with kisses as her grandmother would admonish her for being out late.
Her glass always had a little more milk than everyone else.
Her bowl always had a little more soup than everyone else.
She always had a little more than everyone else, back at home.
Back there, under her grandmother's caring wings.
Back there, in the light of her brother's laughter and smiles.
And now she had nothing.
Everything slipped away from the crevices of her fingers like sand.
All it took was one night.
Ada inhaled sharply, her eyes tingling with unshed tears.
Not worth it.
Not worthy of my tears.
Nothing is.
None of it is.
But I will get it back.
If not my grandmother, but at the least, my brother.
I will get Timmy back.
A little more wait.
I will get Timmy back.
I will give him back what love I received from grandmother.
Tenfold.
Twenty fold.
Thousand fold.
And I will get Timmy back.
She resumed eating with a shake of her head, tears blurring her sight.
Quickly finishing her dinner, Ada washed her bowl and spoon, then rushed back to her room.
She changed her clothes and took out her scratchy quilt to sleep. Her mind was aware of the five silver coins she had stolen. The week was busy. However, supplies were supposed to be replenished.
I will get the opportunity to go out and meet her.
She will tell me where my brother is.
She must tell me where my brother is.
Timmy's laughing face burned in her mind. His laughter filled her ears as her thoughts spiraled down the lane of his memories. When exhaustion took hold of her, her last thought was of his calm, innocent, sleepy face, before she surrendered to slumber.
However, only some hours later, a loud banging on the door woke her up. Frowning, Ada stood up. Snatching the eye patch from the side of her mattress, she secured it over her destroyed left eye.
Opening the door, she peeked fro inside. There stood two burly guards with spears and behind them was Misty.
Ada, who has been up until now in a sleepy stupor, jolted awake at the sight of Misty. Her face was impassive.
"Mi—" Ada started speaking after giving a quick bow to the guards but was cut off by one of the guards.
"You have been summoned—"
Lady Kiara, in the middle of the night? Ada judged.
"—by the Countess."
Oh, well.