Chapter 2 Hell
Every step began to feel like punishment.
My body protested more the further we walked.
Escaping had felt easier than this. The adrenaline and fear propelled me forward.
Now that we were safe, free, it had all worn off, and all that was left was exhaustion.
Christine’s body weighed limply against my back.
Small snoring sounds and a bit of drool dribbling down my shoulder told me she was still deeply asleep.
We had slowed to keep pace with Margaret.
She had developed a small limp from the blisters her slippers were causing at the back of her heels.
She hadn’t planned on running, and her dainty house shoes were not the proper footwear for it.
Liv had pulled the ribbon from her waist and tied it around her legs, securing her skirts between them to prevent the rubbing of her thighs.
I was thankful I had opted for trousers.
“We need to stop soon. I am not sure how much further I can make it carrying her.”
I did not want to complain, and I was not weak by any means.
But we had not slept in before making it to Liv’s childhood home, and we had not rested a moment since fleeing it.
I just needed one moment, and by the looks of it, so did they.
“We are almost there,” Margaret said through her breathless panting.
“There is not much further to go.” She pointed ahead, and as if it were summoned, a manor appeared on the horizon.
There was nothing else here, save for empty fields and a forest just beyond them.
We continued down a dirt path toward the house, and a small pond came into view.
The house itself was not grand in its own right, but it was much larger than my family home had been before my father passed.
“What is this place?” Liv had stopped and now faced her mother, hands on her hips.
This was not merely confusion; it was more of an accusation.
“I have never been here before, Mother. Is this yet another thing that you and Father hid from me?”
For the most part, Liv had forgiven her parents; she now understood why they had done what they had.
But now, with the sun blaring down upon us and exhaustion’s claws sinking deeper, some of her irritation took the form of resentment.
“We did not hide it, Liv. It simply was not worth mentioning. Your father said it was an investment in the future.” She sighed heavily, “I never meddled in our finances; he did not even put it in our names; it is owned under an alias.”
“Why an alias? Why not place it in a trust with the rest of his lands and titles?” Liv’s head tilted as she weighed the possibilities.
“My dear, I truly do not understand why he did many of the things he did. But I am glad.”
She dropped her gaze to the dirt. “Had he placed this home in his trust, under his title, to be passed to a worthy heir, it would have been gone too.”
Her voice came out no louder than a whisper, and she would not lift her gaze.
“Gone?” Liv’s temporary ire dissolved into concern. “What do you mean, gone?” For a moment, Margaret did not answer, and I did not think she would. She let out a long, exasperated exhale. Then finally, slowly, her eyes met Liv’s. Tears rimmed them, and redness bloomed beneath.
“We did not have a male heir.” The statement settled, and Liv’s lips twitched as she tried to digest its meaning. When reason cleared the fog, her eyes widened.
“They stripped you of Father’s title?” It came out as a question, but Liv already knew the answer. It was just how society worked. Margaret sniffled, and Liv stepped closer, pulling her into an embrace as if she could hold together all the crumbling pieces.
Margaret finally looked up at her, “The only reason they allowed me to remain in our home was because of you.”
Her words came out broken and tangled with quiet sobs.
“The prevailing Diviner wrote to me. He said that he would keep the council at bay so that I would have adequate time to find a new home. But it was only going to last for so long; they threatened to make me vacate after you left. I just…”
Concern morphed into a calm kind of fury.
“Why did you not tell me? Why did he not tell me?”
Margaret did not answer. Liv’s shoulders slumped slightly as she accepted the weight of it and their decision to keep it from her.
“He did not want me to worry, and you did not want me to come for you and get caught. It was to keep me safe.”
Her eyes became misty. “I understand, Mother; I just wish you had told me. I do not need either of you to worry about me. Especially not at your own expense.”
Her head snapped up, “Wait... When did Ezra write to you?”
Margaret's nose scrunched as she thought.
“Just after he received word of your father's passing, I think. It could not have been more than a fortnight.”
The words seemed to strike Liv like a physical blow.
A fortnight. That was long before the caves.
Long before the warrant. Long before whatever this strange thing that now exists between the two of them even formed.
Her eyes widened, and something twisted across her face.
Not anger. Not grief. Something softer. Something that looked suspiciously like heartbreak wrapped around gratitude.
He had been protecting her long before any of us knew they were soul-bound.
I roused Christine as the moment dissolved, rubbing her back until she poked her head over my shoulder.
“Are we here?” I set her on her feet, making sure she was steady before fully letting go.
As soon as she had her wits about her, she took off in a sprint toward the small lake that sat at the edge of the property.
We continued our trek down the overgrown path to the front of the manor, and Christine giggled wildly as she tossed pebbles into the clear blue water and watched the small fish scatter beneath the surface.
Arriving here felt like the closing of a chapter.
I was thankful that we were safe and out of the reach of Verith’s Diviner Council.
But I felt displaced. The life I had in Verith after my parents passed was not the best; the Holudrums left much to be desired, but I would still miss parts of it.
The alehouse where I worked, my tiny home, the familiarity.
The thought that I may never return was suddenly suffocating.
Before any of us had a chance to ascend the front steps, Christine rushed past us in a flurry of excitement.
“Is this ours?!” Her eyes practically sparkled as she took it in.
“It is ginormous!” She threw her arms out as though she could encompass the enormity of the house with her tiny span.
The heaviness we had all been carrying lifted, if only slightly. Liv let out a small giggle.
Margaret smiled softly, “Yes, this is our home, for now.” She patted Christine’s head. “Why don’t you go and choose a room for yourself?”
Christine gasped, “My own room?! Just for me?!”
She sprang through the door as soon as Margaret pushed it open and fled up the grand staircase as fast as her little legs would carry her.
Her giggling could be heard throughout the entire house as she flitted from room to room, opening doors and slamming them shut until she could find the exact one she would claim.
I envied her. The ability to see the wonder in the smallest things despite all of her loss.
Her sister, her home… She had been through difficulties with her mother that we could not imagine, yet here she was, seeing freedom where we only saw exile.
I smiled at Liv, and she reluctantly returned it.
Perhaps we only needed to see this the same as Christine did, as a beginning, rather than an end.
Before I had the chance to say as much, Margaret’s bag thumped to the ground.
She stood incredibly still before the table by the end of the stairs.
The silence was deafening. I stepped beside her to see what could have caused her to startle.
Her eyes were wide, and she did not make a sound as she turned them over in her hands.
Two letters. The dust on the table disturbed only where they had been left.
She held them out, and before Liv took them with a shaking hand, I read the masculine scrawl on the front of each.
One read ‘My dearest Lavinia’ and the other ‘My love’.