Chapter 2 The Step-Mother
Chapter two
The Step-Mother
The Blue Fairy is renowned for not only her strength in magic but also her influence over those she chose to help.
Would Beauty have made it to the Beast’s castle without her influence?
What of the Sleeping Princess’ prince? No other fairy would have been able to guide him through the patch of thorns to where his love waited for his kiss.
-Tales From Meridia, Volume I
It was a great day. One that Luci would carry with her, coating her in armor for all the days that weren’t.
The spring breeze wrapped and danced around her as if it couldn’t resist sharing in the beauty around them.
Her mouth was tingly from too many strawberries, but that wouldn’t stop her from eating the rest in the white bowl beside her.
Luci would have even dared to call it a perfect day if it weren’t for the splash of cold lake water that accosted her skin.
“Brielle Treveon!” Luci screeched, staring with mock anger.
Blond hair, soaked through, ran in waves over her back as Brielle stood in the small pond with a devilish smile that lit up her whole face. Happiness. It was everything Luci could ever hope to see on her friend’s face.
“Stop being a stick in the mud and come in.” Brielle pouted.
“Absolutely not,” Luci affirmed, situating herself more firmly against the oak tree she had settled against.
Its rich green leaves draped over her as if it were her own little cocoon.
A safe place that the outside world and Brielle’s ailments couldn’t touch because whenever she came here, it was a good day.
The night before, the fluid in Brielle’s knee had receded.
Whether due to the endless tonics Luci had spent the years perfecting or from the release of winter’s hold, it was hard to say.
Honestly, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Brielle splashing her from her favorite pond.
The dark water was always the first place Brielle asked to go when she was feeling better, as if the chilly pond held some sort of secret remedy.
Then again, Luci supposed it did. It had been Brielle’s mother’s favorite spot at Blythe, and Luci imagined it held more than just sentimental value for her friend.
Arching an eyebrow, Luci dared her friend to complete the dark thought that had glistened in her eyes. If she splashed her one more time, Luci would- well, she would probably do nothing. In fact, it was a good tactic considering she would eventually give in.
However, she was saved by the sound of hooves clomping down the dirt path that led to Blythe Manor. The creaking and groaning of the carriage behind left a pit in Luci’s stomach. Too soon. It had only been three months. It was far too early.
Her eyes met Brielle’s pale blue and saw the same thoughts written on her face. Neither of them spoke as Luci hurried over to her, wrapping a towel around her dripping, thin frame. Brielle shivered, and it was unlikely to be from the chill air.
“Come on, we can go around back,” Luci said gently.
They usually had at least a few minutes before he remembered he had a daughter. After all, Lord Treveon had more important things to worry about, like climbing the social ladder at court.
Even the air changed, like it had a bite to it that hadn’t been there before.
As they crested the hill above the pond, Blythe came into view, and it was mayhem.
Servants flittered along the front lawn in an attempt to line up and greet their master.
No one had expected the visit, and the long faces and hurried gestures only emphasized that, but there was no denying the blue-and-white carriage, littered with gold filigree, that pulled up to the manor.
“Why do you think he’s here?” Brielle asked, her voice small.
Biting her lip, Luci shook her head. “It’s probably nothing.”
A pretty lie. Twenty years at Blythe and its turnings and routines were clockwork as if spelled by the great fairies before. Even though they were a thing of myth, Luci might have believed they had once existed just for the reliability of Blythe, at least until now.
Brielle didn’t call the lie what it was. They could pretend a little bit longer.
“Where is Brielle?” The lord’s deep voice boomed.
Luci’s heart fell into her stomach.
“Oh no,” Brielle whispered beside her.
There wasn’t time to give in to the trembling in Luci’s hands. Brielle needed her to be steady, constant, so she willed her hands to stop. Willed her heart to slow and her words to come out even.
“It’s fine. You go around the back, and I’ll stall.” Luci said, gently shoving her towards the eastern side of the manor.
“My hair,” Brielle said, gripping the drenched strands in her fist, eyes wide.
“Just tie it back, he won’t notice. Go,” she said before running towards the manor.
Stone-faced servants who usually smiled and laughed easily stood in a long line.
At the front was Mrs. Blakesley, dressed in the severest of blacks, her gray hair pulled up in a tight bun that must have given her a constant headache.
From this close, she could see the lines that pulled at her lips from being in a place of constant frowning and the crow’s feet next to her eyes that marked her for her age.
“Sir Treveon, we had not been expecting you.” Mrs. Blakesley tried.
The lord of Blythe Manor turned to the carriage.
A white-gloved hand, decorated with gold rings with diamonds that shimmered in the sunlight, reached for him.
Sir Treveon huffed out an irritated breath, his brown mustache spread out over his lips much like a caterpillar on a branch.
In fact, his eyebrows might have been matching baby caterpillars.
With his tanned skin and severe demeanor, Luci often wondered whether there had been a mistake and he wasn’t Brielle’s father.
At least, she would have been convinced if it weren’t for the pale blue eyes that lifted to hers in that moment.
His eyebrow caterpillars narrowed as he took her in, noting the absence of his daughter. Caught with nowhere to go, Luci slowed her run and smoothed out her brown dress, hoping she would catch her breath in time to make some sense.
“It’s all very exciting, Mrs. Blakesley.” Lady Treveon said, her voice high with excitement.
The lady of the manor took her husband’s hand and stepped out of the carriage in a light pink dress that was made of frills and excess. Just how she liked it. The louder the better, which was generally how all the nobles lived their lives.
“Where is Brielle?” Lord Treveon said, glaring at Luci.
Just like that, all the eyes of Blythe were on her.
Mrs. Blakesley swallowed hard as she took in Luci, knowing where they had been.
There was nothing that happened at Blythe without her knowing.
More than likely, she had been trying to buy them time as well.
Yet she knew better than to speak now that Luci was the master’s target.
Taking a steadying breath, Luci suffered the last few feet in silence before dipping into what hopefully sufficed as a curtsy.
“Lord and Lady Treveon. What an unexpected pleasure,” she tried.
“Do not make me ask again,” Lord Treveon said darkly.
Before Luci could open her mouth to half-hazard an explanation, a violent yipping came from the carriage—scratches and whining pawing at the closed door.
Lady Treveon let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh, I was so caught up in the excitement I forgot about the girls!”
She turned and opened the carriage, where Stasia and Drusilla rushed out in a heap of black and white fur, going right for Luci’s feet. It was a constant that Luci would have happily done without. Lady Treveon called to her daughters, but they were already on the hunt and nipping at Luci’s feet.
With a whispered swear, Luci picked up Drusilla, who let out an indignant howl. Meanwhile, Stasia growled and pounced at Luci, going for blood. It was all Luci could do not to kick the beast.
“Look at that, Stefan. The girls just adore Luci,” Lady Treveon said, beaming.
Stefan Treveon merely huffed out an annoyed breath. “Mrs. Blakesley.”
It was all the summoning the housekeeper needed before she was sweeping up Stasia and saving Luci from her dance of survival.
“Where is she?” Mrs. Blakesley whispered as she stood.
“We need five minutes,” Luci said through her teeth.
The housekeeper glared at her before turning her brightest smile to the Treveons.
“Lady Treveon, Stasia has grown. What have they been feeding her at court?” her voice dripping with false sweetness.
Bright red curls bounced as Lady Treveon clamped her hands in delight. “Stefan, I told you the very same thing just minutes ago, do you recall? It was all that red meat, you know.”
Sir Treveon’s lips thinned, and he let out an exasperated sigh that made him look ten years older than he was. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and when his bushy eyes opened once more, Luci knew there was no more buying time.
“What good are you to me if you cannot keep track of your charge?” Sir Treveon spat.
There it was. Laid out in simple terms that wrapped around Luci’s heart and squeezed till she was nothing but remnants of the blood that fueled her breath.
Her life was nothing without Brielle. Yes, she lived in a grand manor and didn’t spend her days laboring, but she was still that same orphan girl who had first come to Blythe.
No one to mourn her except for Brielle. It should have been unsettling or hurtful, but it only served to remind her of what was important at the end of the day.
That certainly wasn’t the man before her.
“I’m here!” Brielle’s melodic voice called.
The sea of servants parted for her like the garden flowers to the breeze. That was always the way of her. She may have been prone to illness, but her kindness and radiance were like a beacon in the night. None could deny the beauty of her, inside or out.