The wind bit at her skin like needles. Henrietta stirred beneath the ancient tree, the bark scraping her back as she sat up. The soil was damp beneath her, as if the earth had wept through the night.
She can't believe she fell asleep underneath the tree, in the cold night without feeling anything.
She didn't remember falling asleep. Her head throbbed, her hands red and sore, still carried the traces of ash and soap.
She blinked up at the sky, grey, low, heavy. Then came the sound of wheels crunching gravel.
Henrietta ran out a little, still invisible to the maids waiting outside for the guest who just arrived. To see who it was this early morning, or maybe someone who missed the funeral yesterday.
A black carriage, trimmed in gold, pulled into the estate yard like a creeping shadow. Out stepped Beatrice, her cousin.
Her curls were perfect. Her dress was stitched in the very shade of burgundy Henrietta once favored. Her hand pressed softly against her belly.
Henrietta breath caught
Beatrice didn't come to mourn, she came to move in. She watch the maids off loading her boxes from the carriage and drag them inside while she walked in. Chest raised like a queen in a shopping spree.
Henrietta quickly ran to the back of the mansion trying to find a Short cut to the maids quarter. If anyone should find her doing nothing, she's definitely going to get punished. Even if ahe haven't worked as a maid before, she certainly know of this one because she was once a noble woman.
She stumbled through the hall, half dazed, half seething, trying to get into another hall when she bumped into Beatrice unknownly throwing a cup filled with water she was holding.
Henrietta can't tell for sure how long she have been looking for a way to the maids quarter so she won't get in trouble, but one thing is sure, she's not going to get away easily for what she just did.
Her body told her to quickly kneel down and apologize, then maybe the punishment she'll receive this cold morning won't be severe, but her heart refused. She kept picturing what she saw the night before she suddenly died. Her own cousin, who she took as a biological sister was having an affair with the man she was suppose to get married to.
She loved Beatrice, she made sure Beatrice has everything she had, because her family were not as wealthy as her family. She even went as far to seeking advice from her whenever she had trouble with Albert, but she was such a fool, digging up her own grave so deep by housing a venomous snake.
" Am so..."
SLAP
A sharp, burning slap across her cheek that snapped Henrietta's head to the side. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Beatrice stood there in front of Henrietta, her face twisted in rage and triumph, her hand still raised.
"How dare you look straight into my eyes, you filthy rat!" She spat, already drawing her hand back for another strike.
But instinct moved faster than reason. Henrietta's hand shot up and caught her's mid-air.
The world stilled
Her eyes widened in shock. Henrietta too. For a moment she forgot she wasn't Henrietta, she forgot she was suppose to flinch, to bow, to break.
Gasps echoed from the hallway. Two maids stood frozen at the door, their mouths ajar, more footsteps, followed whispers. Curious stares. Then_
" Beatrice?" A voice called.
Her heart clenched. Her mother.
She walked into the room with the calm, graceful steps of a queen, her silk gown trailing behind her like most. She looked the same, regal, untouched, unreachable.
"What's going on here?" She asked coldly.
Beatrice snatched her hand off Henrietta's grip and points at her. " She raised her hand at me, mother!. She-she held me like she was going to strike me back"
"Mother that's a misunderstand_" Henrietta walked straight to lady Eleanor and hold her hands, forgetting who she is now.
SLAP
"Who's your mother?" Lady Eleanor yells in rage.
Immediately, the urge to be dead completely kicked in. Her mother would never raise her hand on her, even if she doesn't play the role of a perfect mother in her life, she would never hit her. Not even for the slightest reason. Her stupid heart led her on again, that maybe she'd see her, maybe if she reached out, if she touched her, she'll fell it. Some mother -daugther bond still deep inside her soul.
She was wrong. What bond could possibly be there, when she never even blinked at her twice even as the real Henrietta.
" She's forgotten her place," Lady Eleanor said.
Henrietta throat tightened. " My lady I wasn't _"
"Drag her outside," she said, turning to the guards. "Ten lashes should remind her what she is."
**** **** **** ****
They dragged me through the halls like I was nothing, like I hadn't once danced in them, in jewel slippers and well beaded gowns. My knees scraped the gravel as they threw me down into the courtyard. I barely had time to catch my breath before the first lash sliced through the air on my back .
Unbearable pain
I gasped, my body jerked forward.
Another one
Then another one
Each strike pulled a scream from me, but I bit it back. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. My nails dug into the earth, I could feel stones cutting into my skin.
This body, Margaret's body, wasn't strong. It was thin, bruised, already broken. The fourth lash sent a searing shock down my spine. The fifth made my vision blur.
I was in pain, angry and furious.
Angry that I was trapped in the life of a slave, scrubbing floors when I once walked on roses.
Angry at Albert, at Beatrice, at their betrayal.
Angry my mother, who looked into my eyes and didn't even blink. Didn't see me, feel me, didn't recognize her own blood.
They think am dead, but they're all going to pay. I'll make sure of that.
The sixth lash came like a fire across my back. I let out a strangled cry as my arms buckled. My body trembled violently, and the world began to spin.
Then a voice cut through the haze. Deep, cold, commanding.
"Enough"
The whip stopped mid-air. I heard the guards freeze.
" My lord..." One of them stammered, "the order came from_"
"I said, release her". The voice left no room for argument. It wasn't shouted. It didn't need to be. Every word was soaked in authority that coilled like a storm beneath the surface.
The guards exchanged glances, fear etched into their faces. Fear..but not if me, of him.
One of them stepped back, another dropped the whip. They all obeyed.
I tried to stand, my legs wobbled, my body screamed. Then the ground tilted and I was falling again.
But I didn't hit the earth. Arms caught me, strong, sure.
My head rested against his chest. The scent of cold rain and midnight clung to him. My blurry eyes flickered up, and for a split second, I saw his face.
No....it can't be...
But my body has had enough. The pain, the fury, the disbelief, all of it pulled me into darkness.
As my eyes fluttered shut, I heard him murmur softly, almost fondly.
"Always getting into trouble, Margaret"