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▓ [CONTENT WARNING]: Implied non-consent
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Hundreds of masks surrounded me from above.
All concave and convex. All undecorated yet distinguished. All hovering and whispering.
Stone castle.
Head towards the stone castle.
The Successor awaits.
From the space below the masks, hands reached down to secure my body. Thousands of fingers grasped me, and I was carried off on a gentle wave.
Head towards the stone castle.
The leaves, branches, and sky parted, and brilliant sunlight speckled warmth across me as I was transported underneath their blessings.
We traveled for an eternity, my body ultimately surrendering to the calm ebb and sway of recovery. Until—
The change in environment shattered my dream, and I momentarily awoke on a cold surface, shouting at the top of my lungs as the nerves on my face erupted.
"Hold her!"
"Cease her thrashing!"
My jaws were held open, and bitter liquid gushed down my throat.
"It's ready!"
"Quickly! Before we're punished for delaying!!"
I tried shouting again, but this time my muscles were unresponsive. Something clamped over my face, and I could do nothing as molten,hot needles pierced my skin.
AHH…!
…
W-WINSTON…!
…
WH-WHERE ARE YOU...?!
…
WINSTON…!!!
…
=====
The case of the Rivers family was common but unusual.
They were once nobles, but due to losing the previous king's favor, they were stripped of title, wealth, and land.
Out of grace, they were allowed but a single castle located southwest of the capital.
Upon the death of the fallen lord, the castle was then held by his son and, upon the son's death, by the surviving widow and daughter. Anticipating their end, the royal family readied to reclaim the structure.
Surprisingly, however, after the daughter married seventeen years ago, the Rivers catapulted into the trade market, and their reputation revitalized within the guilds of the capital.
Judging by their public records, the family was recovering well. And although returning to high society was too soon, perhaps after generations of riches and goodwill could they return.
As of now, the family lived oddly in isolation. The daughter and her mother hadn't been seen in decades, and the man who married into the family—addressed as Rivers—eluded scrutinization.
Yet…perhaps that wasn't strange since a moat surrounded their castle. Not only that, the boggy wilderness outside it discouraged any visiting or traveling.
So, disregarding such a family came easy.
Until now.
Now—after years of stale leads—that family blazed at the forefront of the Elkhaus investigation. By what seemed like pure chance, the disappearance of Airee and Clafford's boy led to the capture of the owner of an alehouse, an individual with a distinct mark behind an ear.
A distinct mark identical to that identified on several bodies discovered alongside the deceased baron.
The Duke of Bearington was informed immediately.
Instantly, the Cassandra knights withdrew and were replaced by Valguard ones. Within the day, twenty of the Duke's most meticulous, hard-faced men entered the backroom the owner was held in.
The Duke had to approach this opportunity carefully. Rescuing Airee was more important, but extracting details regarding the eight-year-old murders was also crucial.
The owner was a silent and stoic man, and his rigidness revealed his resolve not to cooperate. This changed, of course, after his family was located hiding upstairs.
Within an hour, the owner confirmed they knew the thieves that harmed Airee (whom of which the Cassandra side failed to capture). After another hour, they confirmed their employer was the father of the boy who approached Airee and Clafford's boy with ill-intent—the head of the family, Rivers.
And finally—after a day of tracing the contraption and water Airee fell in and verifying it ended near the Rivers family's castle—
The Duke entered the alehouse, facing the owner himself.
As soon as the Duke introduced himself and the investigation, the owner—who believed they were only being questioned about the children—paled and loosened his bladder.
"Your wife. Your daughter. Your sons. How truthfully you answer may protect their fates," promised the Duke after the owner was cleaned, dignity preserved.
What was divulged over the next few hours about Rivers' covert trading troubled the Duke greatly.
Yet, the final piece of information shared that introduced an account of an unsettling chain of events eight years ago—
"That day, among the children we smuggled to be sold…was a little girl. A Meerian child."
Meerian?
"Meeria's…"
?!
"…forgotten princess."
║║║║║║║║║║
…
My consciousness returned as a flicker.
…
I was…
…seated.
Before me…
…was a table.
Where…on shimmering dinnerware…
…glistened meat.
And bread.
Fruit. And—
"How are you feeling, child?" someone asked.
I twitched.
Wobbling my heavy vision left, I struggled to address the gaudy man seated at the head of the table.
Who…?
"Very good," he responded as if I answered. He punctured another slice of meat with his knife, and red juice dribbled down one corner of his mouth as he chewed.
I flinched when an insect landed on his chin to feast.
Why…is it difficult…to think?
What am I…doing here…? And what's on…my…?
The moment I reached up to feel, someone sitting across the table clicked their tongue. "Tsk. Leave it," the woman seated there hissed as my fingers grazed something unlike skin. "It has yet to heal."
…?
A horrible cry bellowed throughout the place, and I only realized where it was coming from when the woman leaned over to strike me, shutting me up.
Only then did pain cut through the fog, and I cradled the mask smothering me, our stitches throbbing mercilessly.
"My love," the gaudy man addressed the woman after I collapsed out of my chair, retching and vomiting. "You're scaring the poor child. The drug is wearing off, so they must be confused."
He left his chair and approached me. Lifting my head up by my hair, he frowned unsympathetically. "You should've recovered by now. But…I suppose your transformation isn't complete."
My dark vision through the mask's small holes ever narrowed, and he released me as my breaths steamed all that was me.
…can't…breathe…!
"Move her to the east wing," came the man's orders.
…Don't…!
"Wait… Let me take her," the woman suggested.
Stop...!
"…Very well, my love…"
Hands grabbed my limbs, and my body did nothing as I was dragged off.
STOP…!!!
║║║║║║║║║║
Water.
Silk.
Flesh.
Cloth.
Dampness as the skin was cleaned.
Murmurs all around.
A sultry voice. Approaching closer and closer.
An exploring hand. An overstepping touch.
"This one's very handsome."
[?]
"Stop that, Emmy!" another voice whispered. "The mistress only ordered us to clean and dress her."
"But this one's the best so far, Bell," Emmy laughed, touching me again. "Since she's young, let's teach her—"
With sharp clarity and strength, I lurched up and grabbed the wench by her neck. As I stood from the bed I was laid upon, the other girl—Bell—paled and rushed towards the door.
I yanked her back by her braids before she could flee.
"P-please…please let Emmy go…!" Bell sobbed for her friend as I looked around the modest room. Several beds lay in a row, and a lone window sat up near the ceiling, out of reach. Servants' quarters. "Y-you're killing her!"
I shoved the one called Emmy away and focused on Bell. "[Who is your mistress?]" I growled, the sound reverberating within the mask, projecting something horrid and monstruous.
Tears ran down Bell's face as she stared at Emmy sputtering and gasping on the floor.
I shook her. "[TELL ME!!]"
"Enough!!" an angry voice hissed as the door in front of us swung open, revealing the woman from the dining table before. "Do you want to draw even more attention?!!"
Her heated face was a stark contrast to her pale and simple nightgown.
I met her frosty, blue eyes and froze when her fiery orange hair—loose and almost crackling—reminded me eerily of someone needed right now.
Head towards the stone castle.
I released Bell and stepped back as a massive headache washed over me. "[Ahh…]" I groaned as pain split my ears, travelling down my jaws to the base of my neck, paralyzing me.
"M-Mistress!" Bell's voice rang in the distance. "E-Emmy is…!"
Stone castle?
All of Callous's boasts.
Callous himself.
"Silly girl," the woman chided softly, her footsteps swishing across the floor past me. "I warned her of her wandering hands."
This woman and that gaudy man. How we were seated at the table.
The mistress and head of the castle.
Rivers. Callous Rivers.
"…I suppose your transformation isn't complete," the head had uttered.
…
Whatever the head planned for me…I would not partake in.
"[Why should you and your husband be spared?]" I rasped after the wave subsided.
A cackle exploded from the woman. She scoffed, looking up from where she knelt beside Emmy.
"Is your boldness the reason why Ket asked me to watch over you? Insolent girl!" the woman snarled. "I should have refused him! How dare you threaten your new master and mistress?!"
"[You proved to be no noble.]" I rumbled. "[You are nothing to be feared!]"
The woman froze, her eyes widening large and white.
Shelly should already be aware of our absence. That means so are the knights…and Grandmother…and Father…
I touched the stitches I shared with the mask, wincing as they throbbed.
My disappearance is already reason for Father to interfere and bring me back. Once he arrives and realizes what was done to me, not only will I be confined—this place and the ones responsible will be set aflame.
My time here is limited. I must plan for Father's arrival while escaping.
"[You could call for help, but you have not. You yourself avoid attention… What is it you desire that keeps me away from your husband? And I ask again. Why should you be spared?]"
The woman glared intensely at me, evaluating me for something I would yet to understand.
Then she stood with arms outstretched, reaching me with just a few steps. Gripping my face with her hands, she leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I desire you—to kill my husband."