“It is with deep regret I find myself obliged to inform you, Lady Mildred, that your father, the late Cecilius Ghirseba, Count of Magnoliis has made you his sole heir and, in so doing, has bequeathed you the totality of his debts.”
The advocate paused, giving Mildred a moment to process her thoughts. A jumble of questions broiled in response to his sombre demeanour, pitying gaze and downright incomprehensible words, but Mildred pushed the tumult down with practised efficiency. The only outward expression of her turmoil presented itself in the vice-like grip her right hand exerted on the armrest of the chair she was seated in.
“What debts?” Mildred questioned, tersely. She should have been elated that her father had done the uncommon thing of choosing her as his only heir, instead of bequeathing it all to her distant male cousin as was customary.
Clearing his throat, Mr Megobruli, the grey-haired advocate, leaned forwards, resting his thin arms on the desk in front of him and steepled his veined fingers. He looked at her through the thick lenses of his half-moon spectacles. “The late count took out two rather large loans in the past several years and has not yet repaid them.”
Mildred swallowed but was still struggling to process the information when she realised the advocate had not yet finished.
“I must warn you, my dear countess, that he put up the manor as collateral for one of those loans, and I received this promissory note just yesterday.” He shifted a piece of paper on his desk before returning to his position and peering at her over his fingers, his dark eyes full of pity. “The lenders have pointed out that the loan payments have been late previously and have summarily not been paid for the past half year, meaning they intend to foreclose the property.”
The earth fell out from under Mildred’s feet. It felt as if an abyss had materialised, and she was in free fall, except her right arm gripped the wooden armrest with such force that it kept her tethered to reality—if tenuously.
She could not think. She could not speak. The crashing waves this sea-storm brought about in her brain left her inner self gasping for breath, even as her outward appearance remained shocked into motionlessness. She needed someone here with her. Bearing this alone was impossible.
“Please,” she wheezed, clinging to the lifeline of the chair’s armrest. Her mind raced over the faces of the four people left in the lobby of the advocate’s office building. Rebecca, her oldest friend, had lived through most things by Mildred’s side, but her tongue was known to wag. Mildred considered Sybil, her other long-standing friend, but she was very prone to judge people by their appearances. Mildred felt a sliver of fear curling in her heart at what Sybil might say about this. Julien, he’d been very attentive, especially since her father’s passing a few days ago, but something in Mildred’s gut tugged her away from thoughts of Julien’s jovial face and carefree nature. She needed a person who was down to earth and had a head for money. Steadfast Kayden lodged himself in her mind and would not move. He was the person she needed now.
“Please,” she started again, willing the burning tears away. “I need someone else present, this instant. Would you send for Kayden Geltcrest? He is waiting in the lobby with my other friends.”
“My lady.” His dark eyebrows almost disappeared into the pristine white of his hair. “This is a most unusual request and it is not customary. Only the beneficiaries are permitted to attend the hearing of the will.”
“As my father’s heir, the new countess, I hereby insist upon the presence of my trusted friend and advisor, Kayden Geltcrest.” She steadied herself to make the command ring and brook no contradiction. “He shall be permitted to enter this room and stay by my side while I hear the rest of your explanations about this utterly incomprehensible matter.”
“Ah—ah, yes, my lady. I shall have him sent for.”
Mr Megobruli snapped a little brass lever, which was attached to the wall beside his desk, and Mildred’s ears picked out the shrill ring of a bell echoing through the hall beyond. Within moments, one of the advocate’s subordinates cracked open the door with a squeak and stuck his curly head through the gap.
“You called, Mr Megobruli?”
The advocate cleared his throat, brushing a hand over his snowy beard. “Yes. Please send for Mr Kayden Geltcrest. He is waiting in the lobby. One of the countess’ party.” The young man ducked out again and let the door thud shut behind him while Mr Megobruli proceeded to polish his glasses with a small cloth. He peered through the lenses at a flickering gaslight on the wall and then whirled the scrap of fabric over a particularly tenacious speck of dirt.
The door opened soon after and while the advocate slipped his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose, Mildred turned in her seat to watch Kayden shamble over with a quizzical tug to his eyebrows. He kept his body upright using a polished wooden cane while he dragged his right leg after him. Not for the first time, Mildred considered what it must mean to be paralysed like that, to have a body damaged for life.
“What is it, Mildred? Why did you send for me? I thought none of us were permitted to attend on you?” He glanced from her to the advocate and back again.
Mildred tried to answer, but finding her voice stuck in her throat, she dismissed his questions with a wave. Turning back to the advocate, she nodded for him to go on.
Mr Megobruli adjusted his spectacles, smoothed his beard and summarised. “Well, as I was trying to say, your late father accrued some sizeable debts that have now been transferred to you, including the risk of foreclosure on Thornwicket Manor, the Magnoliis county’s country estate.”
For a second time, Mildred’s mind was violently engulfed by the impossible news. Thoughts reeled through her in an incoherent jumble and she didn’t know up from down. Disoriented, she tried to open her eyes wider, as if letting in more light would somehow help to order the chaos rushing through her mind. Then, as if across some vast distance, a hand settled onto her shoulder.
Kayden’s voice broke through the fog of her thoughts. “How much?”
Through the tunnel of her vision, she watched Mr Megobruli fidget on the other side of the desk. The delta-shaped tangle of tendons and veins puckering under the dark skin of his hands seared onto Mildred’s mind. She’d never taken note of what they looked like before, but now, as he shuffled papers on his desk, the well-manicured nails and the light wrinkles seemed to be all she could look at.
The rustling of the notes was cut off when Kayden leaned forwards, reiterating, “How much?”
As the advocate’s dark eyes lifted to meet Kayden’s, Mildred felt her friend gently squeeze her shoulder. The reassuring comfort helped bring her out of the fuzzy-headedness of her initial shock, although the way the executor of her father’s last will and testament shifted his gaze, unable to hold his eyes steady, she dreaded what was coming.
Clearing his throat and straightening the bundle of papers on his desk with a rustle and a tap-tap, the advocate glanced up once more before muttering. “Let me see.” He pulled over one paper from the right of the desk and looked it over. A sigh escaped him before he met Mildred’s eyes, pity pouring from him. “The remaining sum for the first loan—erm—excluding the interest—is—”
Shutting his eyes, he rushed on. “One million, seven hundred and sixty-three thousand imperial notes.”
Mildred couldn’t breathe. That was close to the value of her family home, Thornwicket Manor. Kayden’s fingers now dug painfully into her right shoulder, but Mildred embraced the discomfort. It was nothing like the hot titanium bands squeezing around her ribcage, which was the only reason her mind still clung to the present and didn’t give way to the gaping darkness looming under her.
“And the second loan?” Kayden prompted, his voice hoarse.
“Erm—that would be—ah—” again, the advocate clenched his eyes shut before answering at speed, “nine hundred and eighty-seven thousand imperial notes.”
The fog was back. It swirled in on the breeze of such unfathomably large sums. Mildred’s mind struggled against this blanket, which blotted out everything else. Her eyes were wide open but there was no strength left in her mind to absorb anything more than spots pulsating in time to her aching heart and the relentless vice of Kayden’s hand upon her shoulder. From very far away, Kayden’s words filtered through the blanket to her.
“Two million seven hundred and fifty thousand notes.” A pause followed before he added, “And the interest?”
Mildred fought the weights that wanted to drag her down. The black abyss beckoned, but still she clung to the armrest and the sensation of Kayden’s hand on her shoulder. She could get through this. She had to. But how? The sluggishness in her brain refused to let these thoughts through. Instead, they batted weakly against the confines of her mind, delicate butterfly wings crushed against the steel cage of adversity.
The men were talking again, but Mildred couldn’t follow. Kayden’s grip on her shoulder slipped away as his muffled voice came out clearer again.
“How high? Was it eight percent?” A pause was followed by, “Well, nine or ten? Just tell me, what is it?” Mr Megobruli’s muttered response escaped Mildred, but she did hear Kayden’s exclamation. “You’re saying the debt amounts to about three million?”
Mildred couldn’t see the advocate anymore. Dark spots flashed across her vision as she gave way to the merciless pull of the abyss. Just before all went completely black, she heard the advocate say, “a little less, but yes. That would be a good estimate if no more interest is accrued.”
* * *
“Mildred.” Kayden’s tenor called to her, drawing her away from the comforting blankness she’d been in.
An acrid smell assaulted her nose, the sting increasing until it forced her eyes open from the pain. Lurching upright, her arm knocked against something. In the same heartbeat, the astringent scent disappeared while a tidal wave of impressions crashed over her.
She was sitting in an upholstered chair beside a heavy wooden desk. A bright green carpet spread out under her feet, and she glimpsed lamps flickering on the walls. Now she remembered—she was in the advocate’s office—the disclosure of her father’s will. That brought the second wave, along with the last thing she’d heard before passing out. Three million.
With a groan, Mildred leaned back again. Could the darkness just claim her once more? She did not want to be conscious for this. But her brain had other ideas. While Kayden and the advocate fussed over her, she descended into a warren of thoughts. Thornwicket Manor and everything in it wasn’t worth three million imperial notes. Possibly the lands could be sold for that much, but not at short notice. What would happen to the tenants who worked the land? Also, didn’t the lands produce money for the estate? What, by the emperor, had her father spent all that money on? And why? What could she do? She had nothing. All the years spent with her father’s assurances that her future was provided for—all worthless.
The abyss yawned again, but Mildred’s mind was too busy skipping along the edges of that chasm to actually pay the gaping black void any mind.
Why had her father borrowed so much money? There was the new glass entrance hall he’d had built at Thornwicket about a decade ago, but surely that couldn’t have cost that much money? And where was Mildred supposed to acquire such sums?
The next thought brought on a new bout of titanium constrictions compressing her ribcage and cutting off her air supply. She might be forced to go to debtors’ prison—
A whirlwind of the tales she’d heard of those dismal places raced through her thoughts. The hunger. The death. A memory of thin arms pushed through bars, begging for a scrap to eat. Once fine clothing hanging in limp and tattered rags off emaciated frames. News articles decrying the institution for inhumane treatment and even murder. Not to mention the knowledge that those who survived and had served their time were never reinstated in high society. Instead, they scrounged for scraps as best they could, almost all reduced to begging on the streets.
Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the images, but her dervish of a brain wouldn’t let up. How was she going to take care of herself and her mother now? Her mother—heat and pressure increased around her chest. Mother would not take this well. She was wont to give way to hysterics when unexpected things occurred, especially now, in the wake of the count’s sudden demise. As a widow and penniless, what would become of Mildred’s mother? The poorhouse?
Mildred groaned.
The whirlpool of her thoughts converged on the image of her grey-haired mother and how wilted she’d looked these past few days. Mildred sat up, looking into the bearded face of the advocate.
“Mother,” she managed to gasp, half exclamation, half question.
The older man bobbed his head and strode back around his desk as if satisfied with Mildred’s return to consciousness. “I shall visit your mother this afternoon, my lady.”
Air whooshed into Mildred as she slumped back against the chair. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments before fixing her gaze on Mr Megobruli again. “And what is to become of us?” she asked, vaguely aware of Kayden coming to stand beside her again. She couldn’t remember him leaving her side, but she felt another surge of strength as his hand settled onto her upper arm, resting gently against the dark grey material of her mourning dress.
The advocate’s eyebrows drew together into a black caterpillar. His eyes darted between Kayden, Mildred, and the papers on the desk. A shrug twitched at his shoulders, but he controlled the motion with a breath and answered, deep sadness lining his voice. “I do not know, Lady Mildred.”
He licked his lips, but Mildred didn’t want to hear any more dithering. “Surely—” she paused, calming the edge of hysteria that had crept into her voice. It made sense the advocate wouldn’t have an answer for this question. He was merely doing the job of informing her of the situation. It wasn’t his fault he was the bearer of bad news. She took a shuddering breath.
“Can you at least explain to me how this happened?”
More papers shuffled. “Well—erm—the count took out a loan around ten years ago for the—um—improvements on Thornwicket Manor and—uh—the tenants’ housing.” Mildred frowned. What had her father done for the tenants? The advocate glanced up at her before continuing. “Most of the—ah—funds were spent on modernising the manor and tenants’ homes, especially considering the people living on the lands of the estate provide their—ah—labour for the good running of the estate and its annual revenues.” He licked his lips.
Mildred had barely listened to the second half of his sentence. She couldn’t stop her mind from racing as it dashed through her memories, pulling up thoughts and experiences from her adolescence. The time when the massive and impractical—but also splendid—glass entrance had been constructed on Thornwicket Manor. What else had the builders done? Riffling through her recollections only brought image upon image of the workers and scaffolding, not to mention all the dust. It had gotten everywhere! Her mother’s complaints also held a prominent place in Mildred’s mind.
A memory zipped along in the tumult of reflections and Mildred stopped, scrambling to grasp that one moment. For one round, after the domed glass entrance had been completed, a hoard of plumbers had descended upon the manor. She remembered her father talking to their overseer about adjustments that needed to be made in the kitchen to accommodate the new system. And of course, the following round, those same plumbers had swarmed over the tenants’ homes to provide each with its very own water closet, replacing the absolutely repugnant communal outhouse that had existed before.
“Plumbing.” Mildred’s quiet utterance cut through the advocate’s dithering.
The older man paused, steepling his fingers again as he looked at her. “Yes—precisely. The plumbing.”
Mildred nodded as a sigh escaped her lips. There wasn’t much she could say about that. It had been a necessary change, and she could understand that it had cost a fortune. “What about the second loan?” she asked.
“Erm—well.” The advocate cleared his throat. “It seems the count wished to embrace the future. He—um—invested heavily in the recent space programme. All his liquid assets went into that. The investment has not yet borne fruit, and those monies are tied up there for the foreseeable future. Sale of shares is not an option at this time.”
Mildred shook her head. “What does this have to do with a loan?”
“Yes.” The advocate brushed a hand over his brow. “The investment came with an opportunity—erm—to join a consortium for a fleet of trading ships. That is what the loan was for.”
“Such a high loan for some spaceships?” Mildred stared at the advocate. His words beggared belief.
“Ah, yes, countess.” He licked his lips. “Building such transports is a costly affair, and your late father’s participation earned him ownership of one of those ships and the right to the profits from the trading expeditions.”
Mildred leaned back. The world was spinning around her, and her fingers trembled. She shifted her hand beyond the velvet cushion on the armrest and gripped the carved wood. Her distress was so great she barely sensed the grooves in the hard surface as they bit into her skin.
What was she to do? If all this was true, then she owned a spaceship. What was the point of having it if she couldn’t sell it?
Kayden leaned both hands onto the desk, the view of his figure pulling Mildred out of the maelstrom of her thoughts. “What of that ship, Mr Megobruli? Why can that not be sold? And the investment recuperated?”
Papers shuffled and the advocate handed Mildred a sheet, ignoring Kayden’s outstretched fingers. With her left hand, Mildred accepted the proffered item, still gripping the chair’s armrest with her right hand. The paper quivered in her trembling fingers, rustling as it did so, and Mildred swallowed at the advocate’s next words, which poured over her as useless as rainwater runoff, cascading away without finding purchase in her mind.
“The ship was attacked by pirates on its first expedition. It has not yet reached port but can be expected within a few rounds—if it doesn’t break down completely, that is.”
Mildred couldn’t suppress a groan. Kayden turned towards her, and she was somewhat soothed by the concern she detected in his dark brown eyes. She sucked in air, drawing on the life-giving substance until it filled her lungs to bursting. Letting out a slow exhale, she turned her gaze back onto the glittering spectacles obscuring the advocate’s eyes.
“So you mean to tell me, Mr Megobruli, that I have inherited nothing, apart from the responsibility to fulfil a debt amounting to three million imperial notes. My home is no longer my own—” Her voice quavered, and she took another steadying breath before adding, “And what of Thornwicket estate and the tenants? What will become of the land? Can the estate’s revenues not be used to pay back this debt over time?”
The glasses twinkled as Mr Megobruli nodded his head. “The land is yours by right, Lady Mildred. However, I do not think it will be of much use in the immediacy of this case.”
She leaned back, even as her mind screamed at the uselessness of it all. What good was all that land if it couldn’t generate the money required to pay off the debts? Mr Megobruli’s final words trickled into her conscious mind and a follow-up thought stabbed through her. “How long do I have before the debtors come to collect?”
The advocate squirmed once more. He fidgeted with his papers until Mildred felt ready to burst. Anger simmered, wanting to spurt a sparkle of flaming butterflies through her veins. Her right hand clenched against the wood, and she bit her lip, forcing her being back into control. She needed to keep a hold on her temper. Tears of frustration burned at the back of her eyeballs while she forced it all into stillness and waited for the advocate to finally answer her question.
The elderly gentleman looked up, light glancing off the glass of his spectacles. He cleared his throat. “Well—erm—the first loan has been called in for one round from now—” Mildred’s heart squeezed. The world began to spin again, and she feared the black chasm would swallow her once more.
The advocate’s eyes widened. He seemed aware of the effect his words were having on her, and he raised his hands as if to quieten the thunder of her heart. “I have already written to them,” he said. “I’ve asked for respite on your behalf, especially in consideration of the late count’s passing. I have not yet received word, but I hope they might accept to give a second round.”
There were no words left in Mildred. Everything was dry. Her mind still; her mouth a desert. Her whole being felt desiccated, sucked dry by the knowledge she was reduced to nothing. Kayden rubbed her back in soothing circles, but the attempt at comfort was pitiful and could never hope to heal the gaping hole Mildred felt had been ripped into her being.
Mr Megobruli rose, shuffling around the desk as he said, “I must call upon your mother, Lady Mildred. If you have no further questions, I shall depart immediately to impart these tidings before you arrive home. As the long-standing friend I have been to your parents, I know the importance of this. Your lady mother is most delicate, I know. It is why I advised her not to come today.”
Mildred sat stunned, still struggling to process everything she’d learned. The advocate rested a hand on her shoulder, the first contact he’d made since she entered the room. “I promise you, countess, I shall do everything in my power to assist you. Please remain here until you have settled your nerves. My colleagues are completely at your disposal.”
She wanted to nod, wanted to thank him for his concern, but her body would not cooperate. Mildred felt like she was swimming through thick pitch. From a great distance, she sensed the advocate’s retreat and the soft thud of the door as it fell closed behind him.
Kayden’s voice filtered to her. “Mildred.” Through the haze of her overwhelmed mind, she focused on his chiselled features, heightened by his neatly-trimmed beard. “Mildred, we’ll find a way.” He rested a hand on her arm, gently rubbing from wrist to elbow. “Even if I have to take out a loan on my business, we can find a solution to this.”
Mildred jerked away, horrified. “Kayden, no. Never in a thousand lifetimes would I ask such a thing of you. How could you think I would drag you into this mess? And your business? Absolutely not. It is out of the question. There is no way I would let you yoke yourself to me in such an awful manner.”
“But I have the means to help. Mildred, I want to. I could not bear to see you taken down by this. No one deserves such shackles, least of all you. Stop being so stubborn and let me help you.” He leaned forwards, his brown eyes sparkling in the light from the gas lamps.
Shaking her head, Mildred retorted. “I am deeply grateful to your support, Kayden, but should something go wrong I would be riddled with guilt. What if you lost everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve? There is absolutely no way I would let that kind of resentment come between us. I must find another way or serve my time in prison–”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Those are the options.”
Kayden made to interrupt again, but Mildred held up her left hand, keeping her right anchored on the arm rest, as if it were the last solid item stopping her from casting adrift. “Now, let us not speak of this disaster anymore. I need time to think. I don’t believe I’ve quite grasped it all. It’s too upsetting.”
Kayden shook his head this time and reached out, tucking a wayward strand of Mildred’s coal-black hair behind her ear. “You are so strong and determined. I have no doubt you will find a solution to this.” He straightened and held out his left arm. “Come, Mildred. It is time for you to go home. I shall take you.”
Mildred had to bite back the retort that it would not be her home for much longer. There was no use bringing bitterness to bear on him. Taking a shuddering breath, she came to her feet and accepted his outstretched hand. As they turned towards the coat stand, Kayden curled the fingers of his other hand around the carved top of his cane, which had been resting against the advocate’s desk.
She marvelled at this man who supported her, even bearing some of her weight while her limbs trembled and threatened to desert her, all the while he struggled with his own physical insufficiencies. It made her consider what a matching pair they finally made, him broken in body and her in spirit.
Mildred tried to dispel the bleak thought. She simply needed to get home—but then what? Sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and she would get by. One step after another, it was all she could do right now. One faltering footstep and then another and another brought her to the coats. Kayden helped her into hers before shrugging his way into his own.
Then, cane in hand, he guided her to the door, but paused. “Your friends are still waiting in the lobby. Shall we send someone else to see them out or do you want to speak with them yourself?”
Her heart froze. Rebecca and Sybil had waited, giddy at the thought Mildred might have become an heiress. The thought of their blathering turned Mildred’s stomach. She didn’t want to see them and most definitely didn’t want to have to explain this horrendous situation to them. How could she? The words would surely stick in her throat and die on her lips. It was mortifying to think she was reduced to nothing—worthless and expendable.
And of course, Julien was also there. He’d hoped she would invite him to accompany her to the reading of the will. She’d seen the dark cloud descend over his generally cocky demeanour when she’d asked everyone to wait for her as the advocate had instructed. How would he respond to her having chosen Kayden’s support and advice over his? Now that she thought about it, Julien—or Lord Rutherford as he liked to remind anyone who would listen—had been making a nuisance of himself since her father’s passing. He must have also expected, or at the least hoped, Mildred would become the heiress her father had once promised her she would be.
With a shudder, Mildred said, “I don’t want to, but I understand that would be rude. I’ll speak to them.” She paused, remembering what a gossip Rebecca was. “What am I going to say to them? I don’t need my private affairs hurled throughout the gossip mill by tomorrow.” She let her face sink into her hands.
“You don’t have to go into details, and certainly not into the sums. Just state the simplest facts and have done with it.” When Mildred curved in, her shoulders shuddering on a sob, Kayden added, “And I’m here for you, don’t forget. I don’t have any problem being rude to that lot.”
Remembering the snide comments Rebecca was wont to make about Kayden, Mildred straightened her shoulders. It was no good trying to get out of this. It needed to be done and the sooner the better.
Three hopeful faces looked up when Mildred and Kayden walked into the lobby a moment later. In a scraping of chair legs on marble flooring, her friends launched themselves to their feet and clamoured, speaking over each other in a crashing wave of questions Mildred couldn’t follow. The thing she did notice was how excitement and hope gave way to furrowed brows and concern.
Holding up her hand to request silence, Mildred said, “Things have not turned out as expected.” She drew in a shaky breath, hoping to draw strength from the air around her to be able to go on. Rebecca inhaled as if wanting to speak, but Mildred forestalled her. “Although my father has bequeathed everything to me, there were—um—certain—” Mildred closed her eyes, trying to shut out the exasperating glare Sybil was giving her for struggling to speak. Tears burned her eyes as Mildred tried to extricate the word debts from the back of her throat. She leaned heavily on Kayden, remembering how he’d asked the right follow up questions and gotten the most important information out of Mr Megobruli’s hemming and hawing.
“Well?” Rebecca asked.
A hand jostled Mildred’s arm and she snapped her eyes open to find Julien grabbing her other side, as if trying to forcefully pull her away from Kayden. Mildred wanted to jerk away from him but managed to maintain her composure enough not to appear rude. For some reason, she did not want Julien anywhere near her. It was a visceral response, and it surprised her. Notwithstanding, the spark of ire his touch brought on was enough to rally Mildred’s faltering voice.
“What I mean to say is—and it has come as quite a shock—there are debts.”
Rebecca gasped and horror froze her teardrop face. She didn’t meet Mildred’s searching gaze, and the young countess felt her heart plummet, a stone bearing down a well shaft, heading straight for the icy waters fathoms below.
Sybil murmured an “Oh, you poor dear,” before turning to comfort Rebecca who began to sob, and Mildred wasn’t certain if the mumbled words had even been directed at her.
“Urgh, what a waste!” Julien exclaimed and stormed out the main doors of the building, which reverberated with a dull thud hot on his heels.
Moments later, a grieving Rebecca floated out in a rustle of pink fabric with Sybil’s emerald silk-clad arm draped around her.
Mildred stared after them, hearing the door fall closed a second time, although it was less violent. She had no idea what had just happened.
Kayden placed his left arm around her shoulders. “Don’t mind them, Mildred. They have shown their true colours. I am so sorry you had to experience that on top of the rest of this crisis, but I promise you, I shall never walk out on you. Not for any reason.” His words were like life, pouring into her on the wings of the first real breath she’d taken since stepping out of the advocate’s office.
“Come, Mildred. It’s time you were home. You will need to absorb all of this. I’m certain, by the morrow, you’ll have some brilliant plan to set it all straight.”
* * *
A little under an hour later, the automobile turned up the drive lined with poplar trees. The huffing monstrosity jolted Mildred and sometimes even flung her into Kayden with every sway of the chassis. Kayden still clasped her hand as he had done for the entirety of this journey. Mildred welcomed the contact and the comfort it provided, while also being grateful to Kayden for his silence.
They crossed over the Thorne River, the ancient bridge had been erected by her ancestor seven generations before, at the time when the county of Magnoliis had been gifted to Ensio after the Plains Wars. Ensio, the first count, had built the original residence here, although little remained of that manor building, as each generation had made improvements, adding ever more grandiose additions with each passing decade.
The vehicle swept around the bend, and Thornwicket Manor came into view with its pale sandstone walls and sweeping columns. At the sight of the grand dual staircase leading up to the patio surrounding the mansion and the arched entrance, mirrored by the imposing glass dome above it, Mildred’s heart squeezed, shooting pain into her fingertips. Thornwicket Manor, the home at the heart of Magnoliis county, which had been in her family for seven generations, would not be so for much longer.
Her whole being ached in an echo of the weight bearing down on her shoulders. Thanks to her father’s misjudgment, she was the last countess, the end of the line. Her children, if she had any, would not grow up running through the emerald fields and learning to paint these landscapes like she had. Tears burned glowing-hot pokers, but she clamped down on the emotion, pushing it further and further into the depths, away from non-existent prying eyes.
The automobile swung around the central fount, gravel crunching beneath the tyres before coming to a stop at the staircase. Mildred observed one of the footmen approaching to open the door for her. She took a shuddering breath and Kayden squeezed her hand. Then his fingers were gone, and he pulled himself forwards, leaning onto his cane as he stepped out into the nippy air of early evening.
Mildred braced herself, smoothing the dark grey fabric of her skirt and tucking an errant strand behind her ear. With a sigh, she pushed herself upright, unable to find any more excuses to drag out the inevitable. She looked up at the glass dome, her father’s pride and joy, but also the element which had doomed the family living in this building. Of course, she had to remind herself it wasn’t only the dome that was to blame. The addition of running water and other modern amenities had been very necessary. Why did it all have to crumble to dust over money? Why was she being threatened with this unbearable loss? It was too hard to carry in the wake of her father’s unexpected and painfully permanent absence. The cavity in her chest seemed to fill up with a glowing rock. It was stuck there, unmoving; and the pain made Mildred want to scream.
Instead of giving in to the desire, she bit down hard on her lip, forcing the tremor from her quivering fingers. She had to put on a brave face. Knowing her mother, the scene awaiting Mildred inside Thornwicket would require every ounce of Mildred’s capacity for calm. Kayden joined her at the foot of the staircase, and Mildred held out her right arm for him on reflex.
“Thank you, Mildred,” Kayden murmured as he set about navigating the staircase with his paralysed leg.
Mildred still couldn’t fathom what it must be like to suffer as he had. Infantile paralysis had ravaged his body, leaving his right knee stiff and immovable, not to mention reducing the leg to a weakened limb, plagued by pains. Could she really complain about her lot when she had a fully-functional body that allowed her blissful ease of movement without experiencing discomfort?
She sighed as they made it to the top step and her thoughts were once again swept along the paths of history as she stepped through the arched doorway into the glittering rainbow refractions that the last light cast onto the polished marble floor. Her foot sank into the soft carpet forming a strip to the end of the brightly lit glass-encased hall, which gave way to oak panelling and the wooden staircase to the upper levels. The carpet runner branched off to her left and she followed this through a side door into the sitting room. On her left, she looked out through the large glass doors and the view overlooking the beautifully tended box hedges and the park beyond the gravel drive. The lump in her chest grew, putting pressure on her lungs and making even the tiniest of breaths painful enough to prick tears into being.
Steeling herself, Mildred forced her body to turn towards the settee. Under the massive painting of Magnoliis town from two centuries earlier sat none other than Mr Megobruli, his snowy beard contrasting with the darkness of his wrinkled skin. Mildred’s mother was nowhere to be seen and before Mildred could ask, footsteps from the hallway drew her eyes to a servant carrying the advocate’s cloak and hat.
“You’re on your way already?” she asked, turning back to the elderly gentleman.
“Yes, Countess. Your lady mother retired but a moment ago, and I must make haste to return to the city. There is much to be done for you both.” The advocate came forward and raised Mildred’s signet ring to his lips. “I shall send word when I receive news about the loan, Lady Mildred. I sincerely hope the creditors will agree to extend the window for you to repay them.”
Swallowing hard, Mildred fought the surge of tears threatening to engulf her. She nodded, not trusting her voice to remain calm under the storm of emotions.
“We shall meet again soon,” Mr Megobruli added before turning and striding from the room, bidding Kayden a good evening as he passed.
Mildred sank into the closest settee chair, drawn downwards by the stone that had been her heart as it plummeted into the chasm this afternoon had permanently ripped open under her feet. What was she going to do? Her eyes roamed over the fine upholstery of the furniture playing ring-o-roses around a low table with delicate inlay work on its surface. The magnificent paintings on the walls jostled for her attention; the village from two centuries ago flanked by portraits of her ancestors. Further along, there were more landscapes, including a much more recent rendition of Magnoliis town from her father’s younger days.
A sideboard graced the wall closer to the entrance and with her eyes, Mildred examined the little nick-nacks decorating that space: a pair of porcelain statues, dancing a traditional round; her great-grandfather’s snuff box; a hand-painted vase, gift from the emperor; a miniature likeness of Thornwicket Manor as it was now, which she’d painted a few years ago. Mildred’s heart seized again at the thought these priceless heirlooms would not be worth much to a pawnbroker, while each was immeasurably valuable to her.
She slumped with her head in her hands, hoping she might awaken from this nightmare and find it all a figment of her overly dramatic imagination. The rasping sound of a throat being cleared startled Mildred back to the reality of her situation, and the undeniable fact that it was, indeed the truth, and she was living it with her eyes wide open. Kayden looked at her, his pale brown irises shimmering with concern.
“Mildred, please take care of yourself and don’t worry too much. I’m certain a solution will present itself. Will I see you tomorrow?”
Kayden’s words washed over her, and Mildred blinked, trying to dispel the distance stretching out between them even as he stood less than a foot from her. Her mind scrambled to understand what his words meant. “You’re leaving?” As her voice rose with a hint of fear, Mildred clenched her jaw, clamping down on the bubbling anxiety threatening to overwhelm her.
“I must.” Kayden stepped closer, resting a hand on her upper arm. The familiar gesture brought a little comfort, dispelling some of the strange feeling of dissociation Mildred was experiencing. “There are things I must attend to at the office, but if you come into town, I’ll be certain to meet up with you. Shall we luncheon together?”
Mildred shut her eyes, trying to get a hold of herself and stop the trembling in her fingers. The sense of abandonment was great, an overwhelming wave crashing over her and threatening to sweep her away. She had to remind herself, Kayden had been by her side the entire afternoon. Of course, doing so meant Kayden had neglected his own duties—for her. She needed to show gratitude, not spoilt petulance.
He’d mentioned luncheon. Something niggled at the back of her mind, and Mildred considered what it might be. What was tomorrow? All the turmoil of this afternoon had washed away the details of her agenda over the upcoming days. What had she been planning to do? Even for the half-round? Mildred’s thoughts scrambled to recall anything from her schedule.
With exasperation lining her voice, she asked, “What was I going to do this round? I can’t remember anything!”
“Mildred, seriously. How can you be thinking about any of that? Your father passed away unexpectedly a few days ago, and you’ve just received word you are in severe debt. Give yourself a moment to adjust to this new state of affairs. You cannot possibly expect to continue as if none of this has happened. Cancel whatever engagements you had planned. This situation is most upsetting, and you haven’t given yourself the time to even process it, let alone find a satisfactory solution. You will need to take over running this entire estate and familiarising yourself with your duty as countess, in addition to the financial situation.”
Mildred shook her head. Although she knew he was being sensible, something nagged at the back of her mind. She had intended on doing something of utmost importance. How could she forget what it was?
Kayden became insistent. “Mildred, you need to take things slowly and allow everything to settle. This is a tremendous upheaval, and you must let yourself adjust to the change in situation. It’s already taken a toll on you. I can see that. What you need most is rest and time to familiarise your thoughts with this change in—”
Like a cat discovering a wayward mouse it had been hunting for hours, Mildred’s mind took that moment to pounce on the obligation she had been struggling to remember. “The Protection of Magical Creatures Association meeting,” she exclaimed, slamming the heel of her hand against her forehead with a resounding slap.
“What?” Kayden looked at her wide-eyed.
“The meeting tomorrow is at midday. The agenda is to hear personal accounts by magical creatures in order to create a course of action to bring the plight of magical creatures to the emperor’s and the general public’s attention. And they also want to petition for protection to avoid the kind of devastation that was wreaked upon the lion shifters during the Plains Wars.”
“Mildred. You cannot possibly be serious! You are not an heiress any longer. You will not be able to contribute to these philanthropic causes as you used to. You have no money. Why would you expose yourself in this way by attending a meeting where you will be of no use because of your current circumstances?”
Anger sparked through Mildred, and she embraced the vibrant flame. How it contrasted with the lacklustre shades of grey and black anxiety she’d been experiencing all afternoon. “Just because I don’t have any money doesn’t mean I can’t keep on supporting that cause! The case of magical creatures and how they are treated in our society is a deep concern to me and I shall not give up their cause simply because I have been dealt an unfortunate hand. My unexpected change in circumstances doesn’t alter their misfortune. Why should I stop fighting for their needs, which remain far greater than mine—even as things are now? They are marginalised, tortured, enslaved. I have lived a privileged life. I cannot turn my back on my sacred duty to do whatever lies in my power to relieve the suffering I see others subjected to. I will do my part, even as I find a way to overcome the hardships that face me personally.”
Kayden took her hand in his and it cost Mildred all her resolve not to jerk her fingers from his grasp. “Mildred, forgive me. I had no right to say what I did. I didn’t think, and of course, you are right. I do worry about you, though. This is a terrible situation to be in and I wish there were something I could do to help.”
The anger she’d felt swept away in the aftermath of his words. At the same time, the solid rock inhabiting her chest softened. She looked up into his chiselled face, observing how the strands of his long hair tickled the dark brown, well-trimmed beard. She rose, giving his hand a squeeze.
“You have already given me more support than any other, Kayden. You are here! Look at where the rest of my—” She couldn’t finish the thought, the memory of Rebecca’s unfathomable rejection still fresh in her memory. Letting her eyes meet Kayden’s, Mildred drew back from the betrayal she felt. “Thank you for being here by my side.”
Their eyes remained locked, and they stood captured in the moment. Mildred felt her blood pumping in her neck, coming truly alive for the first time since she’d set foot in Mr Megobruli’s office earlier that afternoon. She wanted to beg Kayden to stay, flouting her parents’ wishes on the matter. But Mildred also knew that would be selfish and she didn’t want to put Kayden in a difficult position with his work while also making things more complicated with her mother. Her father’s sudden passing had given her hope she and Kayden could possibly explore a future together, but now that hope lay discarded in a heap of dreams and aspirations. Would she ever achieve any of the things she’d hoped to do but yesterday?
Brushing aside her maudlin thoughts, Mildred said, “You’d better go. Good luck with your work, and I’ll be certain to pay you a visit tomorrow after the association meeting.”
Kayden leaned forwards, his lips almost touching hers, but then he paused. His eyes searched hers, and Mildred felt the weight of propriety falling heavy upon her shoulders. Should she disregard respectability for the overwhelming longing she felt? She’d been tiptoeing around her feelings for Kayden for months. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Julien had planted himself beside her with what she now understood were mercenary intentions.
A knot twisted in her stomach, making her forget all her reservations. She wanted to give this relationship everything she had, especially since Kayden had proven himself today. But even as she willed him to close the last hair’s breadth separating them, Kayden pulled her fingers to his lips instead and left with a breathy goodbye.
Mildred watched from the glass doors overlooking the patio as Kayden descended the steps one laborious motion after another until he stepped into the waiting automobile and was driven away, disappearing from view over the bridge and into the avenue of poplars.
The tears she’d been holding at bay all afternoon finally let loose their storm, and Mildred fled to her room, trying to find solace in the comfort of her bed. There was, however, no comfort to be had. She sobbed into her pillow for what seemed like hours; her body curled up on itself in an attempt to hold herself together while she fell to pieces. No one came to hold her. No one even brought her a spot of tea. She was alone, and once the tempest subsided, she considered whether it was fair to want to tie Kayden to her. She was facing the most embarrassing experience of her life and knew it would translate into exclusion by many in the circles she had frequented. Rebecca, Sybil, and Julien’s reactions were but a taste of what she knew was coming. Was it fair of her to drag Kayden, the rising star of Interstellar Trading, down into the mud with her?
More tears came in the wake of her realisation that she could never do such a thing. Her situation would taint him, whether he saddled himself with her financial burden or not. She could not bring such harm to him, not least because she knew how much he had suffered as a child from the illness, which had left his body broken. To let him soar and continue his unprecedented success, she had to let him go or her misfortune would blemish his career, and she could not bear the thought of his inevitable resentment.
An insistent niggle in her heart hinted this was not true, but Mildred’s rational mind scoffed at the idea any relationship could blossom under the kind of burden she was experiencing. To her knowledge, poor people didn’t live satisfying relationships. All the aggression and beatings, the starved and diseased children, not to mention the habit of turning to drink to drown away sorrows—
These heart-wrenching ruminations were joined by the tales of debtors’ prison she’d heard on the wings of whispered rumours over the past few years. The largest debts came with the most dangerous work because that was the only way such financial woes could be resolved within a single lifetime. The horrific promise of being forced to work down the mines or in one of the smoke-spewing factories blanketed Mildred in a cloud of fear so thick she struggled to breathe.
Her mother did not come down for dinner, and Mildred was almost relieved when she could simply dismiss the kitchen maid who brought her a plate of food. That night was the worst in Mildred’s twenty-four years of life. She slept little while her mind delighted in plaguing her with all the details of what her current situation would bring with it and how much her future was changed. She cursed the universe and its fickle ways, bringing her life of promise crumbling down around her—leaving her in ruins.
* * *
The next morning dawned with pewter clouds to match the cotton-stuffing of Mildred’s sleep-deprived mind. After forcing herself to rise and dress, dragged forwards only by her duty to the Association for the Protection of Magical Creatures, fondly called the APMC by its members, Mildred descended to the parlour near mid-morning, far later than usual. She hoped to catch her mother at her habitual place, seeing to her correspondence, but even that perennial routine lay shattered in the wake of yesterday’s revelation. Her mother was nowhere to be found on the main floor of the mansion, and Mildred was even more mystified by the disappearance of all the staff. It was par for the course for her mother to spend an evening sulking; however, Mildred couldn’t remember her mother’s moping ever having spilled over into the next day.
And what had become of the servants? Mildred couldn’t find a single domestic in any of the rooms. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even seen the butler or a footman when she passed the entrance hall. It was strange, for Harold was usually about.
Mildred retraced her steps, searching the upper levels of the house, but with each empty room her heart pounded in her chest. Most of the furniture had been draped in dust covers, and she considered the possibility this was a nightmare. Had she really woken or was she still abed, wandering the torturous paths of her own worst fears?
Before she could act upon this thought, Mildred heard a resounding crash from above. She glanced up, as if expecting the ceiling to reveal what took place beyond it. A soft scrape and a thud followed, and she hastened towards the service staircase, which led up to the attic.
The storage space, squeezed in under the eaves of the house, which ran the entire length of the old manor, was obscured by a cloud of dust. Multiple voices and the sounds of heavy objects being moved assaulted her ears. The tiny particles, embracing their freedom, dove into her nose, bringing on the tell-tale tickle of a sneeze. With a twitch, Mildred tried to dispel the sensation and focused on the chaos before her.
Directly in front of Mildred, draped on an upholstered chair she recognised from the chambers downstairs, was her mother. Prim as ever but with a napkin tied around her mouth and nose, Lady Claudette, directed the entirety of the household’s servants, who were all wearing protective gear as well. If it weren’t for the itch in her nose, Mildred might have laughed at the sight of her mother flopping one hand this way or that, leading the staff in a shuffling dance of this goes here and that goes there. A rolled-up carpet thundered onto the floorboards as directed, throwing up another cloud of dust.
The tickle at the back of Mildred’s nose intensified and, do what she might, she could not stop the violent reaction. Her sneeze brought the tumult in the attic to an abrupt silence.
“Heavens, child!” her mother exclaimed, her voice muffled by the fabric tied over her face.
Another sneeze tore through Mildred, cutting off her irritation at Lady Claudette’s tone as a blaze of pain shot up into her head.
“Millie-dear, come.” Her mother was by her side, tugging her back towards the spiral staircase. “There is too much dust up here.”
When they came out in the hallway of the servants’ quarters, Mildred rubbed her nose and turned to face her mother. Claudette had once been a formidable beauty, but with the passing years and multiplying cares, deep lines grooved her face and silver streaked her obsidian hair. Mildred reflected on the toll her parents’ marriage had had on her mother. She knew it had not really been a happy one, although they had come to some mutual arrangement over time.
Claudette turned her amber eyes onto Mildred, looking up into her taller daughter’s face. The expression Mildred read was grim determination—clinging to the last vestige of control in an ungovernable life. For the first time, she considered her mother would never have been allowed dominion over her own life. Everything would have been decided for her, and all she had ever done was make the most of the cards she’d been dealt. Of course, it had been a rather favourable hand—until now.
Or so Mildred thought, for even as the idea germinated in her mind, her mother said, “You needn’t trouble yourself over the manor, Millie-dear. I’ll take care of making economies here at the house. I’ve been doing that for years, scrimping where I can. As you most likely noticed, we’ve already been through and closed up most of the house. I’ll be finishing up here in the attic.” She waved a languid hand in the direction of the dust cloud hovering by the doorway. “And then the attendants will go their way. I’ve prepared recommendations for them and will spend tomorrow enquiring from my circle about potential positions for anyone we can do without.”
Mildred gaped. She’d never seen her mother so decisive, and her mind scrambled to keep pace with Claudette’s precipitated decisions, as well as the incongruous image she now had of her mother as the determined woman of action, as opposed to the mouse trapped under her father’s thumb.
“Oh, do stop gawking. Even after all these years and everything I’ve tried to do to economise our household, it was never enough. Your father—well, to be quite frank—he didn’t have a head for money. His selfish, airheaded ideas have left us in this mess, not to mention his cowardly desertion.”
“But Mother, he had a seizure! You can’t honestly claim that was an act of cowardice!”
“Pish-posh.” Claudette waved her hand. “We’re stuck in this disaster of his making, and he knew very well what he’d done. The seizure coming upon him like that, right when he heard of the trading ship’s disappearance shows he knew exactly what was at stake with his selfish investments. Thanks to his actions, I am going to end up in the poorhouse. I have no doubt about it. But I shall do my part to reduce the strain on you. This might not save you from debtors’ prison, but I shall do what I can to make it as short a stay as possible.”
Mildred bit back a scathing comment, hardly able to believe her mother’s submissive acceptance of the situation. But before she could reformulate her thoughts to sound less judgemental, Claudette continued.
“If life has taught me anything, Millie-dear, it’s that fighting the inevitable is pointless. I’ve spent the better part of the past twenty-five years trying to minimise the damage your father inflicted on the family finances, and to no avail. I always knew this day would come. It is what it is, and I cannot change it.”
Mildred struggled to hide her disbelief. “If I understand you correctly, Mother, you intend to strip all our servants of their hard-earned labour with nothing more than a day’s notice, and then you wish to deliver yourself to the poorhouse of your own volition after boarding up Thornwicket Manor.”
“What else would you have me do, child? Wait around, leaking more money we don’t actually have into the pockets of people we no longer need? What sense is there in that? Reducing the debt as much as possible is the only thing that matters.”
“How can you say, ‘where’s the sense in that’? Humanity, mother! Empathy. You can’t just turn onto the streets all these people who’ve served our family for years. That’s cruel and heartless.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, Missy.” The shift in tone fanned Mildred’s anger even more, but before she could utter her disgust, Claudette held up a hand, adding, “How is this any more or less heartless than what is being done to you and me? Life is cruel. It is hard. And if you think you or any one of the persons working in this manor are deserving of being let down gently, you’re in for a surprise. That’s not how things work. Your father indulged you for far too long and it has twisted your ideas on how things unfold.”
Mildred tried to interrupt, but her mother soldiered on. “You think I had time to hide behind my mother’s skirts and transition from the nursery? Of course not! When my father decided I was to be married, I had a single day to prepare myself for a life with a man I had never met. After that, I was bundled up and shipped off to this place to start my new life. No one held my hand while I got used to my new surroundings. No one was there to prepare me for what awaited a countess. Life is cruel, Mildred. Accept that and do the best you can with the little you have.”
Shaking her head, Mildred tried to grasp the fleeting words tumbling through her mind, but Claudette laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, adding, “Fighting will only drain your life essence. Accept the inevitable and work within the confines it allows. You might not find happiness, but I think that’s merely a carrot we dangle before our noses to delude ourselves we can overcome the cruelty of this world. That path only leads to disappointment. Look at what all your father’s hopes and dreams have reaped. Nothing but the barren wasteland of debt! Accept this. Learn from it. And prepare for the worst; that usually means you won’t be caught unawares too often.”
The bleakness of her mother’s words leached away Mildred’s resolve to rail against injustice. The time for childish petulance was over. She needed to take control of the situation since there was no talking to Claudette. Her mind was so clouded by her belief that all she said was true—and Mildred supposed it was the truth her mother had lived—but at the same time, Mildred’s heart rebelled. She wouldn’t argue though. There was no point trying to shift her mother’s perspective. In that sense, what was done, was done. Mildred needed to focus her attention on something else or she would descend into a similar pit of despair from which she knew she would never escape, and then the poorhouse or even debtors’ prison would not be the greatest thing to fear.
Turning away from her mother, Mildred shrugged again. “Do what you must, Mother. I firmly believe we will find a way out of this mess, but if you refuse to search for any alternatives, then I cannot help you. I shall do my best to salvage our heritage, even if I cannot do much about the inheritance. I’ll be in the city for the day. I don’t know what time I’ll be coming home.”
Mildred had already walked a few steps when her mother continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Oh, and I’ve sent for a horse trader. We won’t have any more need for the horses, so it will be best if we dispose of them as quickly as possible. Their upkeep is immeasurably costly, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”
The ache in Mildred’s heart exploded. She loved her horses, but at the same time, she realised her mother was right. She didn’t have the means to keep them fed. Even though her heart hurt, she knew she loved them too much to see them starve or butchered for their meat. It was senseless to cling to the animals when she couldn’t maintain them and when their sale would bring in something. Although Mildred was under no illusion that selling the four horses—though they might be fine—would bring much more than the equivalent of loose change when compared to the debt.
“The two mares might fetch a good price as breeding stock. They have good pedigree. Wouldn’t it be better to get a breeder to come and see, rather than the trader. He would try to swindle us to make a better profit when he sells them on.”
“Oh, Millie. Those old hacks might be fun for a nice ride in the countryside, but they aren’t worth anything significant. Pretty carriage horses and riding horses aren’t breeding stock.”
“I disagree, Mother. Father was always very careful about selecting them from the best breeders.”
Mildred paused. Why was her mother being so dismissive? For Mildred, this wasn’t only about the pain of also losing the horses, animals she had bonded with on her countless rides in the tranquil countryside. What afflicted her more was the bitterness she sensed in her mother. These actions were not being taken for anyone’s good. It was clear Claudette was acting out of malice.
“Millie-dear, they won’t fetch more than one hundred and fifty imperial notes apiece. You need to be realistic.”
Rounding on her mother, Mildred let the spark of her frustration take the lead. “No, Mother. Clear the attic by all means. But don’t you dare touch anything else in this house, which is my property. I don’t know why Father didn’t bequeath you anything, but I suppose as his heir, he expected me to provide for you. Be that as it may, as the countess, and the owner of Thornwicket Manor, I do not give you permission to dismiss my staff, or the horses nor to sell anything within these four walls. These are my duties as the keeper of this estate. You are permitted to help. By all means have the contents of this manor evaluated, but the final decision on anything pertaining to sale, rests with me.”
When Claudette made to protest, Mildred added more forcefully, “No, Mother. I can see you are acting out of spite and resentment, but Father is dead. Your actions do not harm him. They only hurt me and you. So stop. I don’t want you to do something we’ll regret. I’ll be back later, and I’ll find a suitable solution for our household servants. I accept that it is necessary to empty the stables, as those expenditures cannot be justified. At the very least, see to it that we get a fair price for the horses and the equipment.”
Claudette’s eyes narrowed and she raised her head high, but in the same breath she also gave a curt nod. Mildred softened her tone, adding, “Thank you.”
* * *
Little over an hour later, Mildred stepped into the meeting room of the APMC. Through the throng of well-dressed members and invited guests, she sought out the association’s chairperson. Amid the hubbub of voices and the kaleidoscope of colourful fabrics, Mildred spied Rebecca and Sybil talking to another philanthropist. Rebecca’s shrill laughter cut through the din of conversations and drew Mildred’s attention to their open discussion about considerations regarding the sums to donate towards the association’s cause.
Searching towards the front of the hall, Mildred saw the strong, lithe frame of the chairperson, his charcoal hair mostly falling in a cascade down his back, while two small braids kept the strands from falling in his face. To get to the chairman, Mildred had to pass the two women who had snubbed her the day before and she prepared herself to brush past them without stopping. It was imperative she speak to the spokesman before the meeting started because she knew her determination would most certainly waver if she let too much time go by.
Heart pumping in her ears, she began to close the distance, weaving through the clumps of people huddling in groups along the edges of the seating area. Sybil looked up, her eyes latching onto Mildred who felt anxiety coursing through her. Her mind brought back the sight of Sybil ushering a distraught Rebecca out of Mr Megobruli’s offices.
Next, Mildred’s heart plummeted even further when Sybil elbowed Rebecca, who after glancing up and catching sight of Mildred, linked arms with Sybil and bid their counterpart a hurried goodbye. With noses in the air, the two friends sauntered away from the seating area, skirting another group of patrons who were chatting animatedly. As her friends’ green and blue skirts swished out of view, Mildred sucked air through her teeth in an attempt to assuage the sting.
Pulling her thoughts away from the two ladies she’d once called her friends, Mildred glanced across the seating area towards the front of the room. She noticed the chairman was getting ready, shuffling his papers and sending one of the younger association members off on an errand. She had to do this. There was no way she could simply slink out and disappear, leaving her name on the list of patrons who’d promised to donate towards the cause. Pulling together all the strength she could muster, Mildred strode forwards, gritting her teeth to stop the trembling of her hands.
Once past the group of patrons who’d served Sybil and Rebecca’s escape, Mildred was in the open. Sensing the movement, the chairman looked up and his face lit up in a welcoming smile, which shrivelled Mildred’s heart even more. How could she tell this man the sizable sum she’d promised his association wasn’t available anymore, that she had to retract it? Dread snaked its way through her body.
“Lady Mildred. What a pleasure to have you here today,” the chairman said, his rich baritone welcoming.
Her steps slowed as inkiness oozed through her veins and cold settled in her stomach. With her heart hammering in her ears, Mildred wondered what she had been thinking. Should she maybe ask to speak with him in private after? No, it would be better to be done with it. Then, if he too behaved like Sybil and Rebecca, Mildred could get out right away instead of sitting through hours of worrying. Mouth bitter and dry as a wasteland, she forced herself to smile, taking another step closer to the chairman.
The spokesman stepped towards her, hands outstretched, but as soon as he took in Mildred’s reticence, a train track of lines appeared between his eyebrows. “Is something amiss, my lady?” Concern flitted across his golden eyes.
Mildred swallowed, trying to work up enough saliva to be rid of the words jumbling at the back of her throat. Her hands twisted around each other, and with force of will she knotted them into the material of her dark grey skirt to stop their pitiful wringing.
“I—I am afraid,” she began, pausing a moment to flick her tongue over the ridges and valleys materialising on her lips. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Mildred held the chairman’s gaze and blurted out, “Things have not developed as I would have hoped. There were—unexpected outcomes of my father’s recent passing, and—and I—well—the thing is—I can no longer bestow upon this association the sum I have pledged.”
Her voice cracked, mirroring the chasm tugging at the edges of her mind since her fateful meeting in the advocate’s office. Her heart fluttered its feeble attempt at escape from her ribcage while her hands trembled in earnest.
Taking her hands in his, the forty-something-year-old chairman leaned forwards to reduce the height difference slightly. Compassion radiated from him, and his warm fingers combatted the cold dark apprehension creeping through her even as she fought the reflex to pull away.
“My dearest Lady Mildred, I am exceedingly sorry for your loss. I didn’t know the count had passed.” He squeezed her hand, and after a brief pause, added, “And please, do not think of the money, that is the very least of concerns. It is of far greater importance that you are well, and I cannot thank you enough for having come here today despite such difficulties besetting your life.” He squeezed her hands and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Mildred’s eyes burned, and she had to blink several times to stop the building tears from falling. A hard rock felt like it had lodged in her throat, and it ached, mirroring the sharp pain in her chest. She shook her head and gasped, “I—I don’t know—what to do.” Mildred had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling, and she embraced the stab of discomfort.
“Of course,” the chairman said. “It must be overwhelming. And again, I thank you for joining us today, although I would understand if you wish to retire. This must be a very troubling time for—”
Mildred shook her head. “No, I am happy to be here.” A tremulous laugh passed her lips. “I’ve always been very partial to this cause and that doesn’t change because my financial situation is unstable. I still want to help in any way I can.”
The chairman blinked. “Really?”
“Yes, absolutely. What you are doing with this association and the petition to the emperor is of huge import. The opportunity to improve lives that suffer so greatly—that is something money can’t buy.” Mildred paused, adding with a shrug, “Although I’ll admit it doesn’t hurt to have contributions coming in.”
Golden eyes lit up in a reflection of the sun when the chairman replied, “If every person in this room were like you, Lady Mildred, we would have already changed the laws governing the lives of magical creatures in this realm. You are a true asset to the cause, and I am honoured to have you here. Although I know volunteer work would be unbefitting your station, might I offer you a position on the board? Your presence and enthusiasm could truly make a difference.”
Mildred lowered her eyes, studying the floorboards under her shoes when she said, “Why thank you. I suppose I could take on a secretarial position, if you have a need.” She paused a moment before going on. “I could stay at the end of today’s meeting and we can discuss it.”
“That would be exceedingly kind of you, Lady Mildred.”
Mildred let her gaze travel the hall and the groups of association members and patrons dotting the open areas around the seats. She bobbed her head, saying, “I won’t keep you. I expect you want to start the meeting as soon as possible.”
She’d already turned and taken the first step away, when he replied, “Actually, it so happens that I could do with a little help right now. I didn’t know who to ask.” Mildred turned back, tilting her head to one side as she listened. “It appears that my speaker who was supposed to give the closing remarks for today’s meeting has taken ill and won’t be able to come. I don’t actually know anyone else present today who has enough knowledge of public speaking and conviction for the cause to make such a speech—well, that is, except for you, Lady Mildred.”
Heart in her throat, Mildred met his liquid amber gaze. She swallowed and glanced around the room, taking in the members who were present, running their skills through her mind as she did. What the chairman said was true. She could do it, couldn’t she? What did she have to lose? At least this way she could contribute even if it wasn’t financially.
Mildred nodded. “You make a fair point, and I would be—” she paused, rallying her resolve once more at this unexpected change of events. “I would be delighted to support the cause by closing today’s meeting. Thank you.”
The chairman beamed at her. “Thank you, Lady Mildred. Please take a seat here in the front.” He gestured towards the first row of wooden chairs. “And I’ll get everyone in order so we can begin.”
While the meeting progressed, Mildred forgot about her own troubles. The experiences some of the speakers shared made the difficulties she bore almost seem trifling in comparison. Even if the situation she was in risked funnelling her straight to the poorhouse or even debtors’ prison, Mildred could see there were worse outcomes even than that. For the work she would have to do in either of those places would probably still be many echelons removed from the abject outrage of the conditions magical creatures were subjected to in the mines, factories, and even the army.
With each new account, the muttering in the crowd grew. There was a brief lull as a brittle individual, bent with age, hobbled to the front, flanked by two tall and much younger companions. Once the decrepit being settled into a chair at the front and peered out over the gathering, the two youths slipped off to the side, standing by the wall very close to where Mildred was seated. Their strangely-pale brown skin drew her attention, as did the odd loose-fitting woollen caps they wore pulled down over their ears. They even wore their hair loose; perfect, straight strands of golden brown hung to just below their shoulders. Something about this pair reminded Mildred of the gangly pine trees she’d seen on vacation with her mother and father on the Old Continent.
One of the two caught her gaze and arched a light brown eyebrow at her. Heat flared to her ears when Mildred realised she’d been staring. How rude. And of all the places to make such a social blunder, this was utterly the worst. Focusing her attention on the front of the room where the third creature spoke in a voice aged as the mountains, but equally strong, Mildred took in the wizened individual hunched forwards on the seat and leaning on a cane she hadn’t noticed earlier. Even though Mildred still couldn’t tell whether this being was male or female, she did discern a sharply-pointed ear peeking out from between the untamed ashen strands of hair.
They were elves. All three of them. Mildred glanced furtively at the two standing near her, and the insight struck her even more. No wonder they wore those curious hats. For three elves to set foot in The Capital like this was almost unthinkable. She even wondered how they had passed the city limits, because the laws were particularly strict with elves. It made her wonder why. What reason was there for the deep-seated prejudice humans held for elves? And the lion shifters, for that matter?
Whenever she was faced with these questions, Mildred couldn’t stop her mind from burrowing. All of the different magical beings were kept away from the seat of power as much as possible. Those with human aspect, like the elves and the shifters, were treated with even greater disdain, marginalised, spat upon—they weren’t second- or third-class citizens, oh no, they were treated as the scum of the earth. Other magical beings like the kobolds and sprites were made to work, their magic an integral part of the labours they performed, but always controlled through laws, magical tethers, and even unbreakable contracts.
The magical creatures that were more like animals were fair game for anyone who wanted a menagerie. Chained to lives not their own, forced to live as playthings for their human masters, many unicorns, gryphons and the like didn’t last long.
Mildred shuddered and forced herself to listen to the even more heart-breaking account the ancient elf shared about how their people were forced to live and the consequences this had on their society. Centuries of gradual marginalisation and discrimination took a tremendous toll on them.
As soon as the speaker’s voice drifted into heavy silence, the younger elves stepped forwards and helped their compatriot shuffle out of the limelight. Mildred was stunned. She’d known there were many injustices and the plight of magical creatures in general was disturbing, but this old elf’s version of the systematic attack on and undermining of magical creatures, and their societies was a severe blow to her faith in the system she lived by. It seemed this empire she was a part of, a countess no less, destroyed lives simply because they were not human, ignoring the fact they were, indeed, humanoid.
Mildred’s heart ached. Even though she wanted to disbelieve what she’d heard and wished she could explain it away, she knew in her heart she couldn’t do that. The truth burned brightly in the elf’s grey eyes.
The chairman was speaking, and Mildred took in his long raven hair, sharp angled features and golden eyes. It struck her that she didn’t actually know what type of magical creature he was. It had never come up, but considering he was the face of this association, he had to be one. Then his words broke through to her and Mildred’s whole being froze.
“—it is with deep gratitude I now invite Lady Mildred, Countess of Magnoliis, to provide us with some concluding thoughts to end today’s meeting.”
Mildred swallowed. How could she, a human, part of the group making all these people suffer, step up there and speak to them? A little voice reminded her she had agreed to this, and Mildred was never one to renegue on a promise. But what could she say knowing what she had learned during the course of the meeting?
With trembling limbs, she walked forwards even as her mind spun. She felt all the eyes on her and shuddered at the way she’d stared at the two elven youths. They were probably not that young at all, considering the longevity of their people. Her body reached the position at the front of the room, but her mind still reeled under the onslaught of thoughts.
Warm hands grasped Mildred’s and brought her back to the moment. Golden eyes radiated kindness and the chairman said, softly so only she could hear, “I want to thank you.” Gratitude brimmed in his gaze. “Your endorsement means so much to me, and to all of us who have been struggling to be heard in the world of humans. Thank you.”
While he resumed his place on the sidelines, Mildred took a deep breath. She looked out over the people gathered in that hall, taking in the diversity before her, and words spilled from her heart. With a soft smile and the added steel of determination, Mildred surrendered to the truth she knew, speaking with utmost conviction.
“Thank you for joining us today,” she nodded towards some of the new faces she hadn’t seen attending the association before, and also acknowledging the speakers who’d presented their experiences. “We have heard many troubling things, accounts of behaviours and actions that should not be acceptable in a civilised society. While I have not experienced this form of suffering and have led a sheltered and privileged life, I understand I might not be the best person to stand here, especially after all those others who’ve already shared their experiences today.” Mildred paused, trying to gather her thoughts, and forcing her fingers into stillness for they itched to fidget with the fabric of her skirt.
Her gaze travelled over the gathering again and her heart plummeted when she observed a familiar young lady dressed in deep green and another in a highly-fashionable blue gown gliding out of the hall. Mildred swallowed as she forced herself to look away from the traitorous backs of the two women she’d once called her friends.
Scanning the crowd, Mildred met with enough kindness and interest to find the words to continue. “Looking around me here today, I see people. We all have our differences, whether we can channel magic or not, whether we were born of magic or not,” she nodded towards an elemental being who had spoken earlier. “But even through that uniqueness, we are all still people. We breathe the same air. We live on the same land. And it is this commonality I would like to speak for. Because when we live and die in the same place, we have something to work together for.”
Hoping she would be heard throughout, she soldiered on. “No one should have to work under duress. No one should ever be forced to live or speak or be different in a way from what springs out of the eternal well of their heart. We have to remain true to the spirit of all living things who are an integral part of this world.”
A spattering of hear hear, encouraged Mildred to continue. “Murder. Prejudice. Oppression. Violence. These are things that should be spurned by society, but instead it is people who are penalised and oppressed. This association works to make the plight of magical creatures visible and that is an important cause. For too long, your experiences have been swept under the carpet of the empire’s grand plans and civilising mission, but that is precisely where the biggest flaw of them all lies. The Haldrian Empire is acclaimed as a paragon of civilization. The duty to bring the benefits of civilization to the less fortunate barbaric tribes of other continents and planets is cited time and again as one of the glorious obligations the empire takes seriously, not to mention claiming it is an act towards the common good. However, after what we’ve heard here today and in previous accounts, I say it is unacceptable that such backward practices as the ones recounted by our fellow members should be allowed to persist.”
Mildred licked her lips, hoping her voice could keep on carrying with strength and conviction. “I call for equality for all magical creatures. Everyone should be treated with respect and dignity. I further propose that this association work to disseminate information publicly to help sway opinion in favour of changes. I also suggest we make a high priority of the petition to be presented to His Imperial Highness, the emperor. If we do not fight this particular battle, there will be no one left to speak—” Mildred caught the eye of the old elf who’d said something similar, and who nodded at Mildred, encouraging her to continue. “There will be no one left to speak for anyone else when the next step in this oppressive vice of power comes. From its very inception, the Haldrian Empire has been marked by bloodshed. What happened to the seeds of harmony and unity planted in the time before, when there was a Haldrian Confederation?”
More nods of agreement spurred Mildred on. “Conquest has made us forget important tenets about what is good and right, as opposed to what is easy. It is easy to dislike those who are different. It is easy to want everything and everyone to be the same. But that is not the purpose of creation. That is not how the universe works.”
Mildred paused again, working up enough courage to continue. “You all exist.” She swept her arm to encompass the whole room. “You are meant to be here, and no one can tell any one of you—any one of us—that we are less than. I call for and insist upon the right to life and dignity, as is stated in the seminal code underpinning Imperial Law!”
A cheer went up, drowning out Mildred’s call for donations. The chairman came up to her and shook her hand, thanking her again. Another figure strode up beside him. Mildred appraised the man in the most distinguished suit she’d seen this side of the city. He could probably pass in much higher circles and his presence intrigued her, although she noted he had strikingly similar features to the chairperson.
The chairman caught sight of the other man and a broad smile crept over his face. “Lady Mildred, might I present my younger brother who has recently been appointed head of the Haldrian Department for Magical Containment and Affairs.”
A firm warm hand shook hers as Mildred congratulated the man who was likely fifteen years her senior. Curiosity bubbled and she had to tamp it down to stop herself from blurting out all her questions and coming across as rude. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she considered what she could say given the circumstances.
She needn’t have worried. Before she could even gather her thoughts, the new acquaintance said, “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Mildred. I would like to thank you for your support of this association and for being my brother’s greatest benefactress. The amount you have committed to during this quarter is generous beyond measure, and we are both so grateful to you.”
Mildred staggered back even as the chairman gestured for his brother to stop. Of course they’d spoken of the money she’d intended to donate. Even a day ago she had firmly believed in her ability to make good on the promise.
A strong arm grabbed her elbow, steadying her and pulling her away from the brink of the abyss which had, once again, opened up beneath her feet. “Are you quite well, my lady?”
Shutting her eyes firmly, Mildred breathed through the overwhelming sensation coursing through her while the brothers exchanged a hasty, whispered conversation she was unable to grasp. There was a pause, the weight of it thick in the air, and Mildred blinked her way back to reality.
“How is such a thing possible?” the younger of the two exclaimed, his consternation cutting through the foggy barrier that seemed to have descended around Mildred. Gold eyes seared into her, demanding a sensible answer.
Mildred hesitated. Visions spun through her mind. Of Julien storming away and slamming the door behind him; Rebecca, shoulders hunched, being consoled by Sybil; and Sybil sticking her nose in the air as she flounced out of the hall. Mildred realised even if, by some miracle, these people would treat her differently from her former friends, she still brought harm to the association simply because of the social stigma she now carried.
Taking a deep breath, Mildred answered as vaguely as she could. “My situation has changed. I no longer have access to the money I pledged last time.”
The younger of the two brothers searched her face. She could almost see the thoughts flitting through his mind, churning together at speed as he worked out something. “Is this change in situation connected to the reason for Lady Rebecca and Lady Sybil’s unexpected departure before you spoke earlier?”
Mildred trembled. “Yes.” She shifted. With her heart thrumming like a ritual drum, Mildred felt the need to escape. She didn’t want to be here and couldn’t speak with these strangers about the awful situation.
The chairman put a hand on his brother’s arm. The concern in his gaze transformed into silent admonishment.
The younger of the two glanced from his brother to Mildred. “I meant no offence, my lady countess. If there is anything we can do to help, we will gladly do so. We have all suffered hardships, and we understand that such things cannot be overcome alone. It takes a community to bear pain and suffering.”
Mildred sighed. It was a kind thought but it felt hollow to her somehow. Clenching her fist, she murmured, “I am on the verge of losing everything, including my family’s ancestral home. I thank you for your concern. And your sentiments are much appreciated; however, I don’t believe you, or anyone short of the bankers, could actually help me here.”
Taking both her hands in his, the raven-haired man countered, “That truly is a difficult burden to bear and losing a home, no matter what monetary value it is attributed, is an excruciating loss. But do not lose hope. Perhaps the Dragons have the perfect solution. All you need to do is find it.”
Drawing away, Mildred bit her lip, suppressing the scream that burned on the tip of her tongue. Considering all she’d been through since her father’s death, she didn’t hold much faith in mythical creatures. Unable to hold back the comment, she grumbled, “If such supernatural beings really did exist, what would they care about the measly lives of mortals?”
“Oh, but my dear countess!” exclaimed the younger of the two. “They do—they most certainly do. Maybe this is your chance to learn that.” He patted her shoulder gently. “For what it’s worth, I believe your troubles will resolve themselves in an unexpected way. The Dance of the Dragons is always choreographed to perfection. All will be well.”
The chairman nodded. “Yes, Countess. On that, we both agree. It will resolve itself somehow, and until such a time, should you ever need help with something, please feel free to ask. Our community might not be very powerful, but if there is one thing we’re good at, it’s standing together.”
Mildred shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t quite know what to say. Their kindness and sincerity washed over her bringing on an overwhelming wave of emotion. She croaked out a hoarse, “Thank you,” and looked up over the chairman’s shoulder where she spied Kayden shuffling towards them. Relief added another emotion into the mix, threatening to disintegrate her composure entirely.
After bidding them goodbye, she headed towards Kayden’s familiar frame, supported by his trusty cane. All decorum left behind, she launched into him, clinging to him as his presence offered her a respite from her endless battles to maintain control. He was here, and she didn’t have to bear it all on her own.
“By the emperor, Mildred. Whatever is the matter?”
His concern, echoing the consideration and compassion of the other two men, brought a surge of hot tears spilling from her. Her mind whirled through everything she’d held back while she talked to the chairman and his brother, her fear of losing her home, the worry of what was to become of her and her mother, and all the things she needed to do for the staff, tenants, and the estate. She had so much to do, but at the same time felt like she was being fettered by her circumstances. How could all her striving be reduced to an almost-certain guarantee of losing everything? How could her father have done this to her?
Kayden’s tone turned gruff. “I think I’d better have a word with those two. What did they say to you, Mildred? Were they unkind about the money? Were they pressuring you? Did they make threats—”
Mildred clenched her hands around the textile of his jacket and drew strength enough from the motion to raise her head. She knew she must look ridiculous with glistening rivulets running down her apple-round cheeks, but she forced herself to steadiness. She would not let Kayden humiliate her further because of a misunderstanding.
“No, Kayden. They were kind. The cold shoulders and snide remarks from Sybil and Rebecca I am learning to bear. It was the unexpected show of concern and sincere consternation that took me unawares.” Taking a shaky breath, she unclasped her fingers from Kayden’s lapel. “I fear I’ve made an utter fool of myself today, and even worse, I may have already damaged the association’s reputation. Sybil and Rebecca were here earlier, but they left before I gave my closing speech. I feel like I’m letting everyone down—”
“Mildred.” Kayden rested his hand on her cheek. “That will do. Sybil, Rebecca, and Julien have made their choices. That does not reflect on you unless you let it. I heard your speech. You had some very important things to say, and I’m glad you said them. I’m sure the others who stayed to listen would agree. I saw only smiling faces while you were talking to those two.” He gestured towards the chairman and his brother.
Air rushed into Mildred’s lungs when Kayden smiled down at her. He held out his arm, and together they left the room. Although Mildred did glance back just before they exited and noticed the chairman’s gaze on them. She gave a small smile, which elicited a wave from the older man who promptly turned his attention to his brother’s animated conversation.
Kayden led her to the imperial club he was a member of. He insisted that Mildred, at the very least, needed something to calm her nerves before he would even consider letting her call for her automobile. She agreed, not least because she knew this was her opportunity to address the resolution she’d made the night before.
Once they were settled in an alcove with velvet upholstery and surrounded by the opulence of the Imperial Trader’s Club, Mildred sipped on iced water while Kayden made short work of ordering their meal. Mildred didn’t feel like she could stomach anything but hesitated to voice how she felt. She knew Kayden well enough and could tell if she admitted to not being hungry, he would pester her on that point without regard for anything else. It would make speaking to him about the other matter she had on her mind harder, especially if she wanted him to understand her perspective.
The server left, and Mildred steeled herself, but the moment Kayden met her gaze and smiled at her, her resolve melted away. After everything they’d faced with her father’s disapproval of her association with Kayden, could she really just walk away from him now? The memory of Sybil and Rebecca stalking out of the meeting hall sent cool tingles of worry into the pit of her stomach. It was just the beginning. Mildred had seen it happen before when the wealthy were reduced to poverty. She would be shunned, there was no denying the fact. Associating with her would be a red flag for Kayden’s business. They would treat him as if he had the plague too. How could she possibly claim to be his friend, or even love him, if she dragged Kayden down with her?
Swallowing hard, Mildred tried to work up the courage to speak. All the same, her voice rebelled, leaving her in the lurch. Kayden’s eyebrows migrated to the spot above the bridge of his nose, forming a deep groove there, but he remained silent. He was always so patient with her, giving her the opportunity to formulate her thoughts, but this time it was no help. Try as she might, Mildred couldn’t get the words out and those treacherous tears burned her eyes, threatening to make a horrid scene of this moment.
Clasping the fabric of her skirt under the table and out of view, Mildred forced the tears away. She had to do this right, even if her heart couldn’t bear the pain. For Kayden’s sake, she had to. Mildred cleared her throat, but even as she worked her lips, the words remained inextricably stuck.
“Mildred.” Kayden had tilted his head to one side.
She rocked forwards, drawn to him on the thread of his voice, and Kayden reached over. Involuntarily, Mildred released the clenched fist she’d kept hidden under the table and allowed him to grasp her fingers.
“Whatever it is, Mildred, please tell me. I can sense you are mightily worked up by whatever is going through your mind.”
“I’m trying!” And then, as if by magic, floodgates opened and her words tumbled out. “I—I don’t know what to do, but—what with Sybil and Rebecca—and how things are going to be now—the way everyone in these circles will treat me—I—well, what I mean to say is—” Mildred drew her hands back towards herself. “I—I don’t want you and your business—to—to suffer—simply because of this awful situation. It isn’t right. I—I have no right to such a thing—and dragging you—I mean—causing you harm—because of all of this—it isn’t—I just can’t do it—”
“Mildred,” Kayden cut her off, his hands seeking hers again. As his warm fingers wrapped around her wrists, he smiled. “Mildred, do you really think me so shallow that I would turn tail now? After all we’ve endured with your father? Less than a year ago, you stood by me when I wanted to set you free. You said there was absolutely no way the opinion of another person could influence your decision to be with me. Why would money, or the lack thereof, change that?”
Her lip trembled. The ache she’d been suppressing into the very depths of her core, threatened to burst forth. “I—I—” she swallowed, willing the words to override the frantic beat of her heart. “How could I live with myself—if I brought about your ruin? You would hate me—and I couldn’t—no—it would be unbearable. I—”
His fingers squeezed around hers, gentle and warm. “Mildred. You don’t have to go through this alone. And although your desire to protect me is moving, I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere. I am here. All of this will melt away in time; I have no doubt you will pull through this situation stronger than ever. And I do not care a fig for the sensibilities of the upper classes.”
He paused, and Mildred took the opportunity to interject, “But you should. They are your wealthiest patrons. If you give them cause to shun you, your business could be ruined. I—I couldn’t bear—”
“Mildred, listen to me.” Sincerity poured from him, and her heart stuttered when he squeezed her fingers again. “They were the ones who didn’t believe in me, who taunted me. I’m the cripple, remember. Even your father used to make snide comments about my leg. But like the rest of them, he saw I have a good head for business, and it suits them to make money.
“No one cares about me as a human. Respect came my way through business acumen, not looks, or birth or any of it. The only thing the aristocrats and nobles take into account is my ability to make them money. Not one of them ever saw me as more than that. Except for you. You saw me. You lavished me in kindness, and you showed me the true value of friendship. You’ve taught me there is so much more to life than money. Of course, I don’t deny it can be useful and it certainly makes living easier, but it doesn’t make much difference in the greater scheme of things.”
He squeezed her fingers again. “Making money has never made me happy. It is just something I happen to be good at. To be honest, I’ve never really seen any of those grabby lords show signs of happiness either. They glitter and tremble with excitement and greed, but the true deep joy of living, that I haven’t seen in a single one of them. But you, you make it look so easy. You are there—present. You fight our fight. You stood up for me when Julien made fun of me. Oh, I noticed. You are a bright star, and I’m not going to let you go.”
Mildred didn’t quite know what to say. Her heart was all aflutter. The sincerity of his words and the way his eyes blazed was like being doused in heated water. The ardour was so unexpected she didn’t quite know where to put herself.
The server approached them and pushed a trolley heaped with dishes. Kayden beamed at Mildred over the table and murmured, “Let’s eat. We can always talk about that later, if you still want to.”
But as it happened, Mildred embraced the soaring feeling that always came over her when she was with Kayden, and she ate with gusto. For a time, it felt safe to unfurl and allow the sun to shine on her, even if just for a little while. The cares of the past day lifted enough to give Mildred space to breathe.
They left the club, arm in arm, a short while later, all thoughts of money and heavy cares forgotten, when Mildred spied a street urchin loitering at the corner, dark eyes large in the otherwise sunken face. Before she could think too much about it, Mildred had pulled out her purse and retrieved a few coins, which she folded into the child’s palm.
“Get yourself something to eat,” she said gently before rejoining Kayden who stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You never cease to surprise me, Mildred. Your generosity is boundless, but how are you going to reconcile it with your current situation?”
Mildred blinked. Hadn’t he just told her money wasn’t everything? Disconcerted, she said, “I may not have three million imperial notes, nor even a home to call my own, but I do still have a heart and I shan’t let it grow cold and hard over this. If I can do good with what little I have, then I shall do it.”
Gently, Kayden pulled her around to face him. “You see, this is what I mean. You are simply incredible. How could I ever let such wonder go? Certainly not over some misplaced ideas about what others might think and what their reasoning might potentially do for my business. No, no. A business can be rebuilt, or a new one founded; but a woman like you, I don’t think I’d have such luck in a thousand lifetimes.”
Kayden leaned forwards and his lips touched hers, sparking a conflagration inside Mildred. She pressed herself against him, returning the kiss with a passion that surprised even her. Never before had she been so bold—and out in the open street! At the same time, her fluttering heart and flaming insides pushed away thoughts of propriety. That didn’t matter because Kayden was by her side, supporting her and standing by her like no one else would. Relief poured through Mildred as well, mingling with the other emotions already present. She’d been absolutely terrified he might agree with her and leave based on the reasons she’d considered the night before. Now he’d rejected her greatest fears, she might just be able to breathe again.
* * *
Back home at the manor, Mildred took to the stables. The solitude of the drive from the city hadn’t given her enough time to reorder her thoughts, although she’d spent a large part of that journey staring out the window. She really loved Kayden, even more now than before. She’d toyed with the idea of marrying him while her father was still alive, but now she could think of nothing better; and yet how could she do such a thing when she owed three million imperial notes?
Being around the horses brought on something unexpected. Although Mildred’s thoughts flitted to the debt and the mortification of being left homeless, not to mention losing all her acquaintances, her mind soon turned to her father. At first, her common sense tugged at the blame—if he’d been shrewder with his money and hadn’t taken out such outrageous loans—
As she stroked a hand down Idalia’s silky muzzle, Mildred realised how misplaced that blame was. Almost as if it were a reprimand, her mind conjured a vision of her father sitting in the breakfast room, his newspaper spread out before him. Every now and then the paper would rustle when he turned a page, or his bushy moustache would twitch from side to side.
Oh, how she missed him. Loss slammed into her. Father was gone. She would never see him again. Never experience the way he used to look at her over the top of his paper and smile as if she were his only love in the whole world. Tears burned down her cheeks as she pressed her face against the horse’s powerful neck. More memories bubbled, showing her father presenting the brand-new, domed glass entrance of the manor. He’d been so proud of that achievement, adding something architecturally unique to Thornwicket Manor.
The ache in Mildred’s chest increased. Sobs racked her whole body until she didn’t have tears left to shed. Then came the peace and the silent strength only an equine can offer, but even in that moment of tranquillity, she was knocked headlong into the realisation this would be her last time stroking Idalia’s soft muzzle. As she ran her hand along the dark brown, silky neck and into the mare’s raven mane, Mildred gave thanks to the horse who had been her companion since her fifteenth birthday. She knew this decision would be what was best for the horse in the immediate future. Maybe she could buy back Idalia if by some miracle things sorted themselves out.
“You’re the best horse I could ever wish for,” she whispered and forced her attention back to the house. “I suppose I need to get back to it, huh? So much to do and so little time to get it right. Maybe the people from the APMC are correct. Perhaps it will all really work out, even if I can’t see how.”
Idalia nudged her shoulder, and Mildred’s mind filled with memories of Kayden’s kiss. With her lips spreading into a blissful smile, Mildred murmured, “Yes, it’s true that I’m not alone.” Kayden was on her side, and he had made it abundantly clear he would not leave her in the lurch. Would Kayden be the only support she had left? A warm bubble filled her heart because Kayden was enough. She brushed her fingertips over her lips involuntarily, dreamy thoughts floating back to the pressure of his mouth on hers, the feeling of his fingertips brushing into the hair at the nape of her neck.
Her eyes wandered back to the manor house. She had to go. Giving Idalia one last kiss on the nose, Mildred set off over the gravel courtyard separating the stables from the back of the manor house. The crunch of loose stones underfoot shifted to the soft tap of her shoes on the flagstones of the patio, which ran around the building. She glanced over at the back door leading into the kitchen, but there was no movement there.
A few strides later, Mildred stepped into the place she’d called home for twenty-four years, only to find it subdued under a shroud. All the furniture was ghostly, hidden beneath dust covers. Not a sound reached her. Walking through dead halls, she searched high and low until she stumbled into her room and found her mother sitting beside the window. Hands folded in her lap, the former countess stared out into nothing. She was impeccably dressed as ever, but Mildred noticed how her dark grey gown formed a too-large shell around her mother’s shrunken frame.
“Mother,” Mildred said.
Lady Claudette startled, turning her head as her eyes searched Mildred’s face. The light from the window fell on her cheek, contrasting starkly to the shadows in the room.
“Ah, Millie-dear.”
“Did you dismiss the servants, Mother?”
Brown eyes widened and her mouth pulled into a line. “Only for the afternoon. You made your position abundantly clear this morning.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Mildred leaned forwards, reaching for her mother’s hand. “I am certain they would have needed some time to recover from today’s activities. That was a good idea to give them the afternoon off.”
“Quite so.” Claudette rose, her greying hair catching the light as she broke the contact with her daughter. “Millie, I wish to inform you that I am ready. Whenever they come for us—” she cleared her throat and shifted towards the doorway. “I can leave at a moment’s notice. Once they tell us where we are to go, I can do so at once. Now, I think I shall retire for the evening. It has been a long day.”
As she spoke, the dowager countess turned in on herself, a collapsing soufflé letting out a final breath before settling into its sunken form. Mildred’s heart squeezed, shooting pain all the way into her fingertips.
“Mother.” She closed the distance between her and Claudette, taking the older woman’s cool, paper-thin hands into hers. “Mother, why do you give in so easily?” Surprise etched her mother’s lined features once more. “What I mean is, you’re accepting this horrific outcome without a fight. What if there is something we can do to avert that outcome? If you’re just sitting around, waiting for the inevitable fate to arrive, it will; but if we work to thwart this outcome, we could still enjoy an alternative that is better than this.”
“Ah, Millie-dear, you are always so hopeful. I am a realist. After everything I’ve been through, I’ve learned it is better not to hope—better to accept the inevitable outcome. Disappointed hope is crushing. At least this way, accepting my fate, I am prepared, and it doesn’t destroy me like such an obliterating blow would.”
“But Mother, don’t you see?” Mildred entreated, searching for some spark of life. “You’re snuffing out your own life. What point is there in breathing when you aren’t actually living?”
“I see—” Claudette pinched her lips together. “You think it would be better if I were dead.”
“No, I never—”
Patting Mildred’s hand, she said, “Well of course, when the Dragon Gods oblige, I’ll be on my way. In the meantime, all I can do is wait.”
“But you see, that’s what I can’t bear to see, Mother. Your heart beats in your chest. Embrace that life. What can you do tomorrow? There must still be something you can do.”
Claudette shrugged, her thin shoulders making an appearance under the cloth of her dress, which hung from her frame baggy and shapeless. “If my life has taught me anything, Millie-dear, it’s that down that particular path lies only disappointment. It is better to accept things as they are.”
Stunned, Mildred sat still for a moment, before objecting. “Please, Mother. Think about it. Perhaps you could help me have all the furniture and paintings evaluated. I can place a call to Father’s friend, the one who works with valuable antiques. He should be able to help us, right? And then when he sends someone to do the evaluation, you could accompany them, keep an eye on them, would you?”
Claudette shrugged again, giving a noncommittal grunt before shuffling out the room. Mildred sighed. How could she help her mother? There was so much—but this despondency in the dowager countess was a lot for her to bear on top of everything else. She plopped into the chair her mother had so recently vacated and stared out over the park with its decorative hedges, and beyond, rolling fields and strips of tangled woodland.
After hours of letting her mind and heart tug back and forth in an incessant campaign of this is the inevitable outcome versus what can be done to avert it, Mildred at last gave way to exhaustion. She crawled into bed, trying to push aside the visions her overactive imagination conjured of what was to become of her. Shivering under the blanket, she tried to force her thoughts to other topics.
She longed to crawl into her father’s room and seek comfort in his arms, but that small sanctuary had been stolen from her with his sudden passing. Desolation yawned and stretched itself throughout her being, consuming all that was Mildred and leaving a dried out, shrivelled shell in its wake.
Mildred took a mental step backwards and reassessed the gaping wasteland. If she let this overwhelm her, she’d be doing exactly what she’d just judged her mother for doing. Allowing the world of her heart to go barren would be embracing the outcome as her mother had, ending with Mildred trapped in the abyss of her own making, unable to move or see anything. Moping isn’t going to get me anywhere.
A spark of light flickered in the darkness, and she latched onto it. Kayden believed in her. In her mind’s eye, she played over the details of their kiss. If just for that, for the chance of being with Kayden, trying to avert the disaster was worth it.
I could keep on trying to find a solution and see where that gets me. Disbelief crashed in with its hammer of doom. Three million!? It really was an unfathomable amount. The Magnoliis county estate only made about ten thousand a year, which was indeed an immense sum by most standards. Three million was incomprehensible. Nevertheless, even as her doubt waved the flag of that immeasurable sum through her mind, Mildred’s heart answered with its little flame. There is a chance I could find that much money. What can I do to get three million imperial notes in the next twenty days?
A host of ideas rippled through her mind, including the option of selling her organs on the black market. Even as this particular idea formulated, a shudder tore through her whole being, her body rejecting the idea. The visceral response turned her mind to other options, and at last, she settled upon the idea of calling her father’s associates and contacts. Perhaps there was someone who could help her.
With a sigh, Mildred readied herself for bed and drifted into a fitful sleep plagued by dreams of her friends and acquaintances laughing at her while she scrambled to reach Thornwicket Manor, stumbling through the dark where the drive kept on stretching and expanding, never letting her reach the final turn and the view of her home.
The following morning dawned grey, and Mildred was relieved her considerations from the previous evening had resulted in an indoor activity. While she dressed, her thoughts soared on the wings of her moment with Kayden the day before; but as the weight of the pewter clouds settled on her shoulders, it mixed with the dread of what this day might bring. Would she be able to achieve anything? Could one of her father’s contacts help her? She held out a smidgen of hope, even as the grey day sprinkled doubts in her mind.
On arriving downstairs, with her mother nowhere to be seen, Mildred took in the sight of the servants. They reminded her of a flock of despondent fowl shuffling their way through the undergrowth, pecking uselessly at the unforgiving ground. Mildred noticed a feather duster hanging limply in one of the maids’ hands while another looked over the drapes covering the furniture.
Steeling herself, Mildred had all the staff summoned to her in her father’s study. She would have to do this first before she could go about the main task of the day. Once all the servants were assembled, Mildred began.
“I would like to thank you all for your valued service to this house over the past months and years. You have all become a part of Thornwicket Manor in my mind, and I am so grateful for everything you do. However, as you are probably aware from my mother, there has been an unexpected and drastic change in situation following my father’s passing last half-round. I would like to share with you the facts as they stand so you might be able to respond to the situation in a manner best befitting your individual needs.”
Mildred saw many faces filled with concern, and she took a deep breath before soldiering on. “This manor risks foreclosure, and the positions you all hold may not be available when that happens. I do not know who will take over the property, what they plan on doing with it, nor whether they will have need of your services.”
Several of the younger servants muttered among themselves, and Mildred held up her hand for silence. “I intend to meet with each one of you to discuss possibilities and how I might be able to support you during this time. For that purpose, I shall assign time this afternoon and tomorrow morning.”
Now there were smiles and some of them even nodded their heads. Mildred finished off with a round of questions, trying to assuage their fears as much as possible without diminishing the realities of the situation.
After the group dispersed, the cook stepped up to speak with her and Mildred realised she hadn’t eaten breakfast or even dinner the night before. Even the thought of food turned her stomach. And what about her mother? Had she eaten? Considering the dejected figure Lady Claudette had cut the evening before, sitting and looking out onto the manor grounds like a great black bird—portend of death, Mildred feared her mother could do herself severe harm if she didn’t eat properly.
“Cook,” Mildred said, acknowledging the robust woman who’d seen to her family’s well-being for over a decade. “I fear Mother and I are not much for eating in these times. I’m particularly worried about Mother. I think it will be best to keep meals light and to hand at uncommon hours, but—” Mildred considered how she hadn’t even noticed she’d missed two meals. “I wonder if you could have food brought to us, and should my mother refuse to eat, I need to be informed of that.”
“Yes, of course, my Lady Mildred. It is true, Lady Claudette has not eaten today. I shall have something sent up to her.”
Mildred nodded, sensing the edge of concern tightening around her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured. She stood, lost in thought, contemplating the situation with her mother, especially Lady Claudette’s words from the evening before. Mildred reminded herself she needed to phone the antiquarian first before contacting any of the other acquaintances.
“Was there anything else you needed, milady?”
Startled back to the matter at hand, Mildred ran through several thoughts about food and costs. “There is of course no reason to buy in new resources,” she said and the cook nodded. “Use what we have in the larder and try not to let anything spoil. If there is a risk of spoiling, consider distributing such foods to the tenants. I would not wish for anything to go to waste.”
“As you wish, milady.” The cook nodded and bustled out the room, leaving Mildred alone at her father’s solid wooden desk, gazing over the bookshelves lining the wall to her left and then looking out over the manor gardens through the glass arches to her right. She needed to implement her plan.
Focusing on the task at hand, Mildred turned in her seat and trailed a finger over the large red-wood box affixed to the wall just behind her right elbow. She marvelled at the simple magic of this device that could connect her to anyone within the Imperial City. The telephone was indeed a remarkable thing. After staring at the strange black protrusions and their wiring attachments, she went back to the desk, opening one drawer after another until she came across her father’s ledger containing all the contacts he’d made over his lifetime.
As she’d promised her mother, she contacted the antiquarian first, and he agreed to send someone over that afternoon to help with the evaluation of everything inside the manor. Following that, she turned her attention to the question of three million imperial notes and how to acquire such a sum in a short amount of time, setting to work with phone call after phone call until her throat was dry.
It was well into the afternoon, when Mildred tossed the earpiece back on the hook with a huff. Repeating an explanation of her plight over and over again was tortuous, and receiving in return superficial regrets and platitudes made it all worse. No one had proven willing to help her. No one had even been able to think of some alternative; and not a single one had provided her with anything substantial.
Most hurried through a series of regrets and excuses before ringing off, while others rambled on with advice that made absolutely no sense. Those who connected the dots and smelled the truth of the situation regarding her risk of going to debtors’ prison often made some hasty excuses, while others even hung up on her.
Frustration mounted in a cloud to match the dismal skies outside and when an additional curtain of shadow descended, followed by the splash as sheets of rain pelted onto the flagstone patio, Mildred let her head fall onto the desk, but she wasn’t to get a moment’s respite.
“I think.” Mildred looked up to see her mother breeze into the study. However, Claudette did not turn to acknowledge her daughter but sailed straight through to the adjoining salon.
“What do you think, Mother?” Mildred called after her, pushing herself to her feet and following to the door, where she propped herself against the doorframe.
“I think,” Claudette repeated, “it may be best to simply lie down and await the inevitable.” She crumpled onto the settee, throwing her head back dramatically. “The humiliation is simply too much!” Claudette raised a hand to her brow, letting it rest there, palm facing up.
“Oh, Mother. What happened?”
“You won’t believe the vile things that man said about the value of our most prized possessions. It’s all worthless! At least according to him.” She sniffed.
Mildred glanced back the way her mother had come. “And the evaluator? Is he still here?”
Claudette waved a hand languidly. “He was finishing his abhorrent list and promised to bring it to you before he left.”
“Oh, good. Thank you, Mother.”
“Aaaaah,” Claudette cried out as if in pain and Mildred glanced back at her mother who hadn’t moved from her prone position on the settee. “The humiliation—the abject degradation—oh, it is simply too much to bear!”
Mildred closed her eyes. With a sigh, she asked, “May I send for Robyn? She can attend to you and help you upstairs. I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly, Mother. Maybe some rest will help.”
“But the maid doesn’t understand. How could she? She’s just an attendant. These things mean as little to her as they do to that insufferable man in whose company I’ve spent my day debasing myself.”
“Honestly, Mother. They are still people and they have emotions just like you do.”
“What I cannot grasp,” her mother said, sitting up, “is how you don’t seem to understand even though you’re my daughter.” Claudette pursed her lips and her eyebrows drew together as she glared at Mildred.
“I think some rest would do you good, Mother. It’s been a trying day and I still have more unhelpful people to call in the hope that one or two of them might prove otherwise. Please go and lie down, and I’ll send Robyn up to you.”
“Oh, all right,” Claudette huffed and dragged herself from the room.
Mildred sighed, returning to her place behind the desk after calling for the maid, and continuing through her list of contacts, stopping only briefly to accept the detailed inventory provided by the evaluator. Another hour passed, leaving Mildred drained once more. She scanned her dwindling list and forced herself to make another call. The silence in the gloomy house was only disturbed by the tapping of rain on the windows.
The doorbell rang in a piercing shrill, cutting through the clattering splash from the downpour outside. The sound roused Mildred from her despondency but couldn’t penetrate into the ice of fear and doubt, which had seeped into her bones, despite her desire to keep them at bay. She sat still in the darkened room vaguely pondering who would be mad enough to be out and about in this deluge.
Mildred’s question was answered a short while later when a bedraggled-looking Kayden was shown into the room. He favoured his injured leg more strongly than usual, and Mildred remembered him complaining of how the rain worsened the stiffness in his joints. With an effort of will, Mildred pushed herself to her feet. She realised she’d been sitting for hours and her eyes glanced over an uneaten sandwich placed on the desk. She had no recollection of anyone bringing it to her.
She focused on Kayden again, wanting to run to him as the disappointments of the day evaporated in his presence. Mildred took a faltering step forwards to greet Kayden, noticing how strange her limbs felt, even as she said, “Good afternoon, Kayden. How has your day—”
However, when she took the second step towards him, a wall of dizziness slammed into her, and Mildred clutched the edge of the desk to keep herself upright. Blinking away swirling spots of light and dark, Mildred steadied herself by focusing on the sound of Kayden’s voice. Although his words didn’t reach through the fog in her mind, his concern was palpable.
“Just a dizzy spell,” Mildred murmured in response to the anxiety she heard in Kayden’s voice.
A hand clasped her arm and Kayden’s face swam into view. Mildred took a moment to study the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, complemented by the straight lines of his trimmed beard and prominent eyebrows. Her gaze fell onto his thin lips, framed by the dark lines of his moustache and beard, and Mildred remembered the searing kiss they’d shared the day before. Her heart pounded off in a frantic gallop when she met his dark brown eyes.
In that moment, her ears switched back on again. “—eaten anything today?”
She blinked. Now that she thought about it, had she consumed any food at all? “I—I don’t think I have,” she admitted.
“Sit,” Kayden instructed, guiding her towards the chair with a tenderness that made Mildred feel almost fragile. Then he pushed the sandwich plate over the desk with a scrape.
The bread and cold cut stared her down, and her stomach growled even as she wanted to insist she wasn’t hungry. Forcing herself to pick it up, Mildred took a bite. The bread zapped away all liquid from her mouth, leaving her chewing and chewing but unable to swallow the thickening half-masticated substance.
Kayden offered her a crystal goblet of juice she hadn’t even noticed earlier, a sip of which helped Mildred force the lump down. Repeating the procedure three more times under Kayden’s watchful gaze, Mildred tossed the half-eaten sandwich back onto the plate and wiped her fingers on the napkin provided. She sighed.
“What has you fretting so you haven’t eaten, dearest Mildred?”
She gaped at him, unimpressed, and Kayden shook himself. He moved around the desk and leaned against it, so he was as close as possible to her without touching. “Of course, you’re shaken. And no one with any real clout is around to remind you to take care of yourself. Where’s your mother?”
Mildred rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “Probably sitting beside her window staring out over the countryside, contemplating what once was and nursing her resentment towards my father.”
“In that case, I am delighted to see you trying to rectify the situation. Although with not much success so far?” He raised an eyebrow towards the page beside him on the desk.
Mildred trailed her eyes over the columns of names crossed out progressively with greater aggression as the list went on. “It has been a very frustrating day,” she admitted. Tilting her head away from that reminder of her failures, she met Kayden’s glittering eyes and softened in answer to the admiration gushing from them. With a sigh, Mildred added, “I fear I have alienated two thirds of the people we know.”
Kayden leaned forwards, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Now you know who to remain friends with when all this is over.” He smiled. “Keep going. You only need to find the right person. Someone must be able to help.” Holding her gaze, he added, “and my offer still stands. I will gladly bear this weight with you if you would but let me.”
“No.” Mildred shook her head, the flash of certainty strong in her heart. “Absolutely not. It is out of the question. I would rather sell my organs on the black market and be stitched back together again with synthetic ones, than bring that risk to your doorstep.”
“Oh, Mildred.” Kayden shook his head. “And you’d be willing to live with the consequences of such an act of desperation?”
The weight in his tone was too heavy, Mildred glanced up and absorbed the immense sadness descending upon him. Registering her incomprehension, he said, “If you think magical creatures have it bad, then don’t even begin with cyborgs. At least the debtor’s workhouse is in manufacturing things that won’t kill you. You’ll have to work hard but your chances of survival are high. Cyborgs have it the worst. They are sent out to work on dangerous chemicals, manufacturing poisons and even military devices. If you don’t die from breathing in the fumes, you’re likely to get blown up in an industrial accident. So many tragedies happen in the cyborg-run industries and no one cares that they too, are human—or were.”
Mildred shuddered. It brought her face to face once more with the cruelty of this empire she was a part of. “I suppose it’s a cause I can bear in mind if I get through this.” She paused, her thoughts reeling under the onslaught of this new information and how to process it, but she latched onto something that could brush it all aside. “Besides, I don’t believe every single last one of my internal organs would be worth one million, let alone three. I’m sorry I mentioned it. It’s been hard to hold onto any sense of self with my mother giving up as she has. Trying to talk to her about possibilities and alternatives is like ramming my head into a stone wall. Watching her spiral and not being able to do anything to stop her is—I simply don’t have the words to describe it.”
“I don’t know what I can do to help you with her.” Kayden shifted against the support from the desk. “Will you at least take care of yourself and not let her drag you along with her.”
Mildred nodded and he stretched out, letting his fingers trail down the side of her face before cupping a strand behind her ear. “Promise me you’ll consider my offer if—”
“No, Kayden. No.”
He leaned forwards, planting his lips on her hairline. “As you wish,” he murmured, his breath sending a thrill down her spine.
* * *
Mildred was surrounded by dark silhouettes that reached for her, grabbing and tugging at her clothes. Swirls of shadows oozed around her, and it felt as if they wanted to take something from her. Hugging herself tightly, Mildred cried out for them to leave her alone. Whispers began to crackle. Their murmurs were made more terrifying by the fact she couldn’t hear what was being said. Mildred tried to run, but the grasping, clawing appendages ripped and tore at her clothes, sending scraps of fabric swirling to join the greasy black shadows that danced and swayed around her.
As terror consumed her, threatening to trap her in the clutches of the pawing hands, Mildred saw a light streak across the darkness beyond the grasping shadows. She focused on the flash of light with all her might and ran towards it, fighting her way through the claustrophobic cloud—that wall of shadow-bodies. With absolute certainty she knew, if she could reach that light, she would burn away all the terrifying shades. Try as she might, she couldn’t break away from the shackles of darkness. And all the while, she sensed the glowing ember getting further and further away from her.
With a start, Mildred sat up in bed. Her chest heaved with the panic from the nightmare, and it took a few moments for her to bring her palpitating heart under control. Soft tendrils of grey light caressed the lower edge of the drapes, and Mildred stumbled her way to the window. She pushed aside the material, delighting in the cloudless sky, and watched the light creep over the fields to eventually bathe the outside world in fresh gold.
As she stood watching the magical transformation of shadows to gilded light, Mildred remembered something from her dream. There had been a streak of light, cutting through the darkness and the fear. It tugged at her memory. There was something familiar about it. She tried to follow the thought, but it became tangled in the obscurity of time. What possible memory from so far in the past could she have that related to the light of her dream? It had been like a falling star, blazing through the night, promising hope and some kind of solution.
Shaking her head, she turned towards the wardrobe and muttered under her breath. “Wonderful. Since I cannot rely on others to help me out of this situation, I have turned to the madness of dreams instead.”
After dressing, she made her way downstairs, even though it was far too early to be up and about. It seemed not even the cook and scullery maid had descended yet at that hour. Mildred haunted the deserted rooms until a thought tugged her towards the library. A few steps inside the safe haven from her childhood, Mildred was drawn into the memory of being curled up in the upholstered window seat, her favourite book nestled in her lap, she’d traced a finger over the glorious etching of a girl reaching up to touch golden dragon scales raining from the sky.
“Dragon Gold,” she whispered. Turning towards the shelf of her illustrated books, Mildred drew her finger along until she found the Collected Tales from Ancient Haldria. Pulling it from the shelf, she thumbed through it, returning to hours spent in the blissful realm of make-believe. The thick pages rustled and then stopped as she came to a cracked section where the binding had come loose, revealing the etching she’d just remembered. A girl reached for falling scales that shimmered bright in the darkness.
After reading through the tale, Mildred laughed at herself. How could she be so silly? “I’m so addled from lack of sleep and apprehension, I’ve begun to believe a fairytale might present the solution.” She shook her head, snapping the book shut. Then she replaced it on the shelf.
The day dragged by, not providing her with anything satisfactory. After speaking with each of the staff members in turn, she went over the list of contacts again. But that yielded absolutely nothing. The horses were sold the next day, leaving another leaden shackle upon Mildred’s heart. She’d hoped to get a little more for the four animals, but the horse trader insisted he couldn’t make any kind of profit if he bought them for more than four thousand imperial notes.
There was nowhere to turn to, no safe haven left for her, and she wanted to scream—but that wasn’t proper. In the end she found the silver lining. At least the sale of the horses gave her the money needed to pay her staff over the coming days, ensuring their wages weren’t affected and being able to pay severance. It was a small relief.
She flung herself into the duties she had as countess. She organised a meeting with all the tenants who lived on and worked her land, informing them of the current situation and giving them what assurances she could. After that, she made her rounds to the tenants, answering their questions as best she could and taking notes on repairs that were needed. Her mind raced over her options, considering who she knew that was able to make those adjustments happen.
Her rounds took her past a run-down cottage on the eastern extreme of the manor’s property. The little garden was overgrown, but otherwise the building appeared to be sound. Thinking back, Mildred vaguely remembered her father mentioning it had been built for his grandmother, when the ageing dowager countess had refused to stay under the same roof as the foreign wife her son had chosen for a bride.
Mildred shook her head, considering all her ancestors would probably turn in their graves at the thought of her wanting to marry Kayden, a commoner. Then again, what did she care for that pompous lot? By the way everyone else among the gentry were treating her for coming upon hard times, her great-grandfather and his ilk would have probably disowned her.
She laughed. Kayden was worth more than their stuffy airs. She could just imagine him, settled at a desk overlooking the wilderness-garden while lost in thought. Smiling to herself, Mildred stared over the lush fields for a moment before shaking herself and returning to the manor. For all the weight she bore, the few minutes spent at the cottage had brought a spring to her step.
* * *
On Kayden’s urging, she went to town a few days after that to speak with bankers and the advocate once more, but to no avail. The request to extend the twenty-day period would not be granted, and they refused to provide her with an alternative solution that allowed her some form of grace. She was relieved when several of the household servants came requesting references. At least they were making better progress than she was in terms of getting the best of the situation.
Time flowed on its relentless path, and Mildred began to despair. What had she not tried yet? Kayden kept repeating his too generous offer, but every time he mentioned the idea, every fibre in Mildred’s body rebelled. It was without a doubt not an option she would ever be able to consider. More than anything else she’d tried to do, it felt wrong and utterly reprehensible.
Sixteen days into the round, anxiety, a general lack of eating, and the many fitful nights’ sleep came to a head. Mildred was pacing the length of her father’s study—hers, she had to remind herself—when the next thing she knew, she was being lifted from the ground. Blinking her eyes against the grittiness weighing down her lids, Mildred struggled against the arms holding her.
“Lady Mildred, please hold still,” the housekeeper insisted. “You have taken an unexpected tumble. We sent for the physician who should arrive shortly.”
“Oh, no!” Terror at the thought of additional medical costs she couldn’t afford poured through Mildred’s mind. “Nothing is the matter with me. There is no need for a physician. Please just let me rest and all will be well.”
“You have a nasty lump on your head, Mistress,” Harold, one of the footmen carrying her, said before easing her onto the settee in the salon.
Over the following hour, Mildred grew tired of being fussed over. Having become irritable, especially when the physician insisted on prescribing laudanum even though she’d explained until her breath ran out that she didn’t have money to pay for such a tincture. Her mother had also made an appearance for the first time in days. Claudette’s elegantly morose behaviour, somewhat of a black swan impersonation, had the physician falling all over himself to make a second diagnosis and prescribe even more medication.
In a fit of temper, Mildred ordered everyone out of the salon and instructed the medic to leave immediately. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, enjoying the silence and a moment to breathe. But it wasn’t to last. Even as Mildred cursed the body that was failing her, voices drew near from the direction of the entrance hall.
Mildred bristled. Could they not leave her in peace? With anger still coursing through her system, she pushed herself to her feet, arm flung out imperiously and shouted, “Get out!”
Only then did she see the visitor was not, in fact, the good doctor, returned from attending to her mother; it was Kayden. Dumbstruck, Kayden gaped at her; and the hurt look as well as the blank incomprehension she could see in his face made Mildred feel terrible. She collapsed back into the seat, all rage washed out of her, as tears threatened to well.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought you were the physician coming to torment me again.”
Even as the treacherous droplets simmered into being, she dashed them aside, clinging to the last remnant of propriety, although she realised that was futile too.
Why was all of this happening to her? From what she’d experienced over the past half hour, it seemed it wasn’t just her body failing her, but her mind appeared to be collapsing. Add to that the way her whole life was falling apart around her, and Mildred didn’t know what to do with herself. The way she lashed out at Kayden surged a wave of guilt right through her. Of all the people she knew, he was the one who least deserved her ire. He had stood by her throughout, never wavering once.
With a shrinking heart, Mildred feared this might be the incident to drive him away. And the sheer terror of that possibility opened the floodgates. Even though Mildred had wept in private for most of the nights since her father’s passing, she had managed to contain them in public, but now that was pointless. Twin rivers coursed down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands. What had she done? And how would she get through any of this now?
Her anguish intensified, but a pair of roughened hands settled on her shoulders.
“Mildred.” Kayden’s voice was kind and consoling.
Her snivelling hiccoughs intensified, and Kayden eased himself onto the seat beside her, draping an arm around her. Through all her sobbing, Mildred was vaguely aware of his cane clattering onto the parquet flooring before Kayden’s other arm circled around her.
He held her until the storm passed. Exhaustion tugged at her, but Kayden insisted she eat something before instructing two of the footmen to help her up the stairs to her room. Robyn, the one remaining ladies’ maid, shooed the men out while she went about unbuttoning Mildred’s dress and preparing her for bed.
“You must sleep, milady. Tomorrow, all will be better.”
Mildred shook her head, but tiredness added lead ballast to her tongue, making it impossible to voice her disagreement. With her mind drifting in the in-between, tugged towards sleep in the fog of exhaustion while her thoughts became a heated steam engine running at double speed, Mildred considered her dire situation.
With but days to go before this home was taken away from her and no way to pay off the additional debt amounting to more than a million imperial notes, she was finished. In addition, her anxiety and lack of sleep had contributed to this failing of her body. Would she even survive debtors’ prison or would that be the end of the Magnoliis line? And what about Kayden? He seemed to have forgiven her unreasonable outburst but, if she couldn’t find a solution, what would become of their relationship? Could they really be an item with her in debtors’ prison?
The following morning, Mildred dragged herself out of bed by sheer willpower. When she ghosted into the study, she stopped short. On her father’s chair, the seat she’d been using for the past round, sat Kayden, twirling a fancy fountain pen between his fingers. He levelled his eyes on her and the intensity of his gaze sent a thrill dancing up Mildred’s spine.
“Good morning, dearest,” Kayden said, pushing himself upright and gripping his trusty cane in his right hand. “Have you broken your fast yet?”
From the way he said it, Mildred knew he was expecting that she hadn’t. He barely waited for her to confirm his suspicions before ushering her towards the breakfast room. Kayden watched her like a hawk. Whenever she faltered over the rich meal of eggs and sausages with beans or when she gagged on the mushrooms, he kept on encouraging her until the plate was empty. He eyed the nibbled slice of toast on the side plate but seemed to accept Mildred’s pleading look.
Mildred hadn’t eaten that much in many days, and the heavy food congealed in her stomach. The distended lump sat unmoving and made her feel queasy. Kayden ignored her complaints and instead ushered her out for a stroll in the manor gardens.
The sun peeked out from between fluffy clouds and Mildred breathed in the peacefulness, basking in it. The little hint of anxiety hovered at the edge of her mind, reminding her she only had three more days to come up with a solution to the three million notes she owed.
Worry began to tug at her, surging wave upon wave of nauseating apprehension, but Kayden dropped a hand onto her arm, drawing her attention to him. “Mildred, I wonder if you had anything planned for today.”
She frowned. Was there an engagement she might have forgotten? What with her old acquaintances ostracising her, she didn’t think there was any prior commitment she was expected to uphold. “No. Why?”
Kayden shrugged, but his nonchalance seemed feigned. Mildred paid closer attention. What was he fishing for? He was definitely keeping very close tabs on her, and although Mildred appreciated the sentiment, it was becoming a little much. Impatient, she looked up at him.
As if hearing her thought, he went on, “I’ve been told the Association for the Protection of Magical Creatures has convened another meeting this afternoon. Would you like to attend?”
“I—I don’t know.” Mildred paused to gather her thoughts.
After the rude way she had run out during her last visit and thus not having accepted the chairman’s offer of a more active position in the association, she didn’t feel confident showing her face there again. Her memory also snagged on Sybil and Rebecca. She hadn’t seen or heard from them since that day.
Seeing Kayden’s attentive look as he waited on a reply, Mildred sighed. “I don’t think it would be wise. It seems I could do the association more harm than good by being present. If the past few days have shown me anything, being in debt will get you treated like a hot coal.”
Kayden leaned forwards slightly, squeezing her arm. The comforting gesture made Mildred pause and focus even more on his every move. His smile was warm, and his eyes sparkled as if he were holding onto some surprise but would keep it under lock and key until the moment of greatest effect. Intrigued, Mildred tilted her head, watching him for any clues.
The smile turned knowing and Kayden held out his arm for her. They set off over the manicured lawns, past well-tended flowerbeds. Splashes of colour dappled the bushes and hedges. Mildred bit her lip, forcing herself to contain her curiosity and wait for Kayden to spill his secret in his own time.
At last, as they neared the far side of the manor house, Kayden admitted, “I had hoped you’d be able to accompany me today. I’ve been meaning to make a donation for some time—”
He trailed off, turning towards Mildred. She’d stopped, blinking. “Are you telling me you’ve changed your mind and you wish to support the animal fanatics as you used to call them?” Kayden nodded, but the gleam in his eyes hinted at more. “You plan on honouring the amount I promised?” she guessed.
A grin took over his face, but he paused the walk again, turning to take her hand in his. “Well, that does depend on how much you pledged, my dear countess.”
Mildred’s heart fluttered. When she didn’t give him the amount right away, Kayden raised an eyebrow, egging her on. Licking her lips, Mildred dropped her eyes to their clasped hands. “I had hoped to donate fifteen thousand.”
“Imperial notes?”
She glanced up, catching the triumphant smile when she nodded.
“Well, I’m delighted to have set aside twenty thousand for this, so you can make your donation and I can add a little extra from me.”
“Kayden.” Mildred felt overwhelmed. He’d never cared about the association or the plight of magical creatures, but now his sincerity squeezed around her heart. She couldn’t find the words to express the joy she felt, and the gratitude. “I—I don’t know—”
“Would you like to come with me? I was going to attend the meeting and speak to the chairperson after.”
Mildred nodded. “That would be wonderful.”
* * *
They arrived only just in time for the start of the meeting, although this one was much shorter and more functional. Mostly, the members discussed which particular points on their manifesto they were going to focus on over the coming year and what activities to organise in order to achieve those goals.
Mildred thrummed with excitement. For a few hours, she forgot about the crippling weight of her worries and basked in the opportunity to share this moment with Kayden. The sensation of Kayden’s warm fingers interlaced with her cool ones sent tingles coursing up her arm, especially when he ran his thumb over her knuckles.
When the discussion ended, most of the members filed out of the room while Kayden approached the chairman. Mildred remained in her seat, watching the interaction and smiling softly to herself when the older man clasped Kayden with both hands, thanking him repeatedly before accepting the letter of credit Kayden held out to him.
“Lady Mildred.”
Mildred looked into the golden eyes of the chairman’s brother. She smiled but realised she didn’t know the man’s name and found herself at a distinct disadvantage. The discomfort was soon washed away when the man spoke.
“It is wonderful to see you again,” he began. Gesturing towards the chairperson who was trembling and wiping glistening droplets from his eyes, the brother added, “And you have been very generous.”
Shaking her head, Mildred said, “Oh, no. That is all Kayden’s doing. I had no real part to play in that.” She smiled, proud that Kayden was able to do what she couldn’t.
“I wouldn’t say that, Countess. If you hadn’t shown an interest in our association and the plight of our members, I don’t believe Mr Geltcrest would have made a donation today, or any day. You have a generous heart, and it touches those around you to rise above themselves and make a difference. You inspire others to do what is right, and that is a talent few have. Thank you for being the guiding light and for caring about so many.”
Heat steamed up to her cheeks and ears, and Mildred ducked her head although she couldn’t hide the smile spreading across her lips. “Why, thank you, sir.”
“Leandre,” he said, holding out his hand. “My name is Leandre.”
“It is a pleasure to make your formal acquaintance, Leandre.” Mildred nodded, accepting the outstretched hand. “And please call me Mildred. What with things as they are, I doubt I’ll be a countess in anything but name for much longer. And as for your kind thoughts, it is always a joy to be able to help even if just a little.”
Leandre bobbed his head, and his eyes twinkled. “On that note, I wonder if I might return the favour?”
Mildred felt her brow twitch. “How so?”
“An acquaintance of mine may be able to help you in the situation with your home. Have you managed to resolve what we spoke of briefly last we met?”
Shaking her head, Mildred sighed. “No, unfortunately it is more pressing than ever. The time I have expires the day after tomorrow.”
“In that event, I shall make haste. May I call upon you later this afternoon together with this man? I sincerely hope he might be able to resolve it, and with the emperor’s blessing he may even be able to do so within two days.”
“It is very kind of you to try, Leandre. And I shall be delighted to receive you and your friend. Might I know his name?”
“As I haven’t discussed the matter with him yet, I shall do so when I present him to you, Countess. But never fear, I am persuasive, and I have a feeling that what he shared with me in confidence yesterday will be of great help to you. I shall be off then and count on reconvening with you promptly.”
“Thank you.” Mildred paused, wondering whether she should give free rein to the hope spreading its wings inside her or if it would be better to doubt until proof of hope was assured. She gnawed on her lower lip, and Leandre bowed, taking his leave. As he stepped away, she had a thought. “Am I right in believing you know the way, Leandre? To the manor, that is—from Magnoliis town?”
“Yes, thank you. My driver is from the area and knows his way around. Until later, Countess.”
Kayden stepped up. “What was that about?”
“It seems, perchance, the chairman’s brother might know someone who could help me even at such short notice. He wishes to bring his associate to see me at the manor later today.”
“But did he say who? And how?”
“No, he didn’t. Come, let’s go. Whatever happens will be the right path. I have tried everything. Perhaps there still is a chance the Dragons favour me enough to see me through this without being forced to work off that debt.”
They stepped out into the glow of early summer, and Mildred felt her spirits lift in spite of herself. She glanced over to the road, but there was no sign of the automobile. Kayden pulled out his pocket watch, holding it at an angle to avoid the sun’s glare.
“Oh, we finished a few minutes earlier than we said to him. He’ll be round in a moment.” Kayden nodded towards the corner from which the driver usually approached this sidewalk.
The area was empty. As it was past the hour of luncheon, most people were working and only a few passersby rushed on with their errands. Two burly men in workers’ overalls loitered on the other side of the street, and Mildred wondered what they might be doing so far away from the factories and mines. Movement caught her attention, and she noticed another overall-clad man, head and shoulders taller than Kayden coming right at her.
Mildred tensed and sensed Kayden doing the same beside her. Her gut told her the man walking towards her was not friendly. She made a move to tug Kayden closer to the entrance of the association, but a shadow fell over her from behind. She glanced up to see another hulking figure in overalls leering at her. Heart racing, she searched for an escape route, but the two fellows who’d been on the opposite side of the street had crossed, approaching her and Kayden as well.
“What is the meaning of this?” Kayden asked. Mildred marvelled at the strength his voice possessed. She knew her own would have trembled if she’d dared open it.
“We’ve come with a message,” the aggressor behind her left shoulder spat. Mildred shifted slightly, trying to get a look at his face, but his mouth and nose were covered with a grey handkerchief. The other figures stepped closer, and Mildred’s eyes kept darting from one to the other. They all had their faces concealed, and that terrified her even more.
Kayden shifted beside her, and Mildred feared he might do something ill-advised with four adversaries. Her heart leapt into her throat at the prospect of Kayden coming to harm, but before she could cry out or even whimper, a metallic snick made the hairs on her neck and arms stand on end.
A switchblade glinted against Kayden’s throat and the man holding it rasped, “Don’ move an’ no one will ge’ hurt.”
Mildred froze. She didn’t even dare breathe. The attacker behind her said, “Our bosses over a’ thu factory don’ preciate meddlin’ silk-stockins puttin’ funny ideas in elves ‘n shifters heads. This be th’ only warnin’ you get. If ye comes to thu meetin’ agin, we be mighty glad t’ carve up ye pretty face.”
A second snick followed by the cold finger of a blade behind her ear kept Mildred as still as a rock. The cool metal drew a line along her neck and then was gone.
A blast tooted from the road, making Mildred jump, and her eyes fell upon her automobile with the driver already rushing out and shouting something her ears struggled to absorb. Another heartbeat later, all four assailants were gone and she could breathe again. Kayden’s hand held onto her. He was also saying something she couldn’t hear.
The driver rushed up and Kayden spoke to him while Mildred recovered enough to be ushered into the waiting vehicle. Kayden stayed with her and he kept on talking while Mildred shook her head over and over, her mind replaying the incident.
“Here, I brought a constable,” the driver announced as he opened the door.
The black-clad constable ducked his head. “Were you the ones attacked?”
Mildred nodded, but it was Kayden who answered. “Threatened, yes. By four men. They appear to have been sent by one of the factory owners to intimidate the Countess of Magnoliis.” He gestured towards Mildred, who was fighting to stop an overwhelming wave of tears from flowing.
The constable’s growl was muffled; now that the danger had passed, Mildred’s body ached to discharge the fear and horror of the incident. Her hand clawed around Kayden’s fingers in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
Taking note of her distraught state, Kayden continued, “The countess needs some time to recover. We must be off. She isn’t well.”
“But I need to take a statement.”
“We do not know who the attackers were. There were four of them. They had their faces covered as soon as they came near us. They threatened the countess for supporting the Association for the Protection of Magical Creatures and mentioned they worked for someone at one of the factories. We don’t know any more than that.”
“Is that true, milady?” the constable asked. By force of will, Mildred managed to nod, meeting his gaze as she did so. The man’s face was grim when he added, “I shall do my best to find them, although by now they are probably gone. However, it may be advisable to have someone accompany you when you are out on the streets, or remain indoors until your vehicle arrives, at least until whoever is behind this threat has been found.”
Mildred nodded, and the constable added, “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, and shall inform the precinct that my colleagues might do the same. Please stay safe, Countess.”
The moment the door thudded shut after him, a convulsion tore through Mildred and the tears ran free.
Once calm descended again, Kayden tried to talk her out of attending the next APMC meeting. “We’ve donated a sizeable sum today, it may be better to keep a low profile for a while,” he argued.
Although the scare she’d received shook her, Mildred’s whole being rebelled. “Doing that would give them what they want. It will make them think they have power over me.”
“They do! They could have killed you.”
“Kayden, we can be more careful, but I’m not going to let people who do things the wrong way, because it’s expedient, stop me from doing what is right. The chairman asked me to become a member of the board, and although I was hesitant before, I see now it is more imperative than ever.
“The APMC is fighting a losing battle if the factory and mining owners band together against their petition. If they’re willing to resort to intimidation, they will not hesitate in spreading lies as well. For the sake of the truth and what is good and right, I must stay and do what I can. They won’t stop at targeting me either. If we let them get away with this intimidation, it will validate their belief that they can do this. They will easily resort to doing the same or worse to the chairman, the board, and even the members of the association. This is a free society, and we are not doing anything wrong. In fact, we are trying to make things better so that everyone can thrive, not just a handful. Please, Kayden, this is important and I shall not back down.”
He nodded and sighed. “As you wish.” He paused, studying her for a moment, and then added, “But I shall have one of my men from the docks accompany us as a bodyguard until the threat is eliminated. I’m not letting anyone get a blade so close to your neck ever again, if I can help it.”
Mildred saw the anguish in his eyes and squeezed his hand. “Kayden, please don’t beat yourself up about this. It is enough that you feel you want to protect me. We can both make an effort to be more careful in future.”
Kayden looked up, his eyes searching her face. Worry seemed to dissipate, and he nodded, returning the slight pressure on her hand.
* * *
Even though she tried to feign indifference, Mildred couldn’t help the mounting tension thrumming through her muscles as the afternoon ticked by. Kayden was with her and continued to ask about the meeting Leandre had promised her, punching holes in the vague promises. Mildred thought his terse questions had more to do with his desire to keep their minds off the assault.
Not wanting to snap at him, she asked for some time to herself and paced on the patio, hoping—no praying—that this might come through. Time flowed on in its leisurely manner, only making Mildred fret more. She tried to stop mulling over all the reasons why this wouldn’t work, going over the same arguments Kayden had thrown at her since their return to Thornwicket.
Instead, Mildred tried to hold onto the glowing feeling she’d had during the meeting and the scintillating spark that Leandre’s words had ignited inside her. There was hope—there simply had to be. For once, after these days of living nightmare, Mildred needed some good news.
She stopped, looking out over the deserted drive and the slanting sunlight spearing shafts of gold over the countryside.
This isn’t helping. Mildred took a deep breath, reminding herself: What will be will be. I cannot control the outcomes. With another steadying inhale, she took stock of herself. She’d slept badly for almost a full round, had barely eaten, and had fixed an almost hawk-like focus on the inevitable outcome of complete annihilation. Even though she’d tried to fight it, done everything she could to avert it, her thoughts had picked over every detail of the final outcome her mind kept on telling her would be her fate.
More air swelled in her chest, clearing out the cobwebs of anxiety hidden among the tense, branch-like tissues of her muscles. No matter what happens, the only thing I can do is stay true to myself.
She turned, noticing Kayden hovering by the doorway onto the patio. The worry-line cleaving the almost straight stroke of his drawn-together eyebrows made her pick up speed. Mildred didn’t want him to be concerned about her. It was enough. They had both done what they could. No more could be expected, and she had to accept that it was out of her hands. Forcing her will was not the way forwards. She had to trust she had done everything she could. Because of that, her connection with Leandre and whatever opportunity he’d seen, might come to fruition. Now she had to find the strength to wait and see what unfolded.
Holding out her hands, Mildred met Kayden under the arched doorway and felt her whole world glow in response to the smile he bestowed on her. As his fingers curled around hers, she acknowledged how important Kayden was to her. Without him, she would have succumbed to her anxiety-ridden fast and would have probably been stuck in bed in a laudanum-induced sleep as per the physician’s instructions.
“What are you smiling at me like that for?” Kayden asked, tilting his head.
“I simply came to realise how much you have supported me and would like to thank you for being here. While the torrent of these unexpected changes in circumstance have threatened to sweep me away and destroy me entirely, you have proven the steadfast rock who anchors me in place.”
Without thinking, Mildred leaned forwards, and her mouth ran dry. They were so close. She could easily reach out and trail her fingers through the dark strands of his hair. His eyes blazed in a way that made her heart pound loud in her ears. She swallowed. With just the tiniest shift, she could brush her lips to his and relive that tantalising moment they’d shared a few days earlier. Although, this time, it would be her move. Her mind swirled around the promise of their lips being locked together, as his fingers gently caressed their way up her arm to her neck.
Mildred’s heart wanted this. It had been set on Kayden since her father first ordered her to improve the company she kept and cut Kayden out of her circle of acquaintances. This was what she wanted, more than anything. But the prophet of doom that was her mind reminded her she was not the mistress of her own future—not right now.
She drew back, frustrated tears pricking at the back of her eyes with the thought she was forcing herself away from what she wanted because of her circumstances. The claustrophobic wall which had surrounded her since that day in the advocate’s office returned, a smothering blanket to squeeze what remained of her life’s essence from her body.
Mildred saw the pinwheel of emotions spinning through Kayden’s eyes, but she didn’t have the strength to take heed. She was turning inward again, tamping down on the emotions and hope that welled inside her. Even as her heart ached, she reminded herself she couldn’t expect Kayden to tie himself to her when she was likely to end up in debtors’ prison. And then, in a spark of defiance, her heart rebelled. Maybe she should admit her feelings and, at the least, find out Kayden’s thoughts. It wasn’t right for this decision to be entirely her own.
She looked up to meet his gaze when the sound of gravel crunching under tyres and the loud rattling of an engine drew her attention over the railing towards the drive, where a black automobile juddered along. Its large, rectangular carriage jolted around by the uneven ground.
A ray of sunlight broke through the dark clouds smothering her heart. With a gasp, half sigh of relief, half exhale of excitement, Mildred raised her skirts and raced down the stairs to meet her visitors. The seed of hope that had dared to germinate earlier that day, burst into bloom in an array of colour, and when she stepped towards the vehicle as it came to a standstill, a thrill of excitement coursed through her. It almost felt like a set of wings wanted to unfurl from between her shoulder blades. Even as her mind rebelled against the idea that she could be certain, her whole body, down to the last fibre, knew this was it—the outcome she’d wished for ever since that dreadful meeting in Mr Megobruli’s office.
Leandre unfolded himself from the back of the automobile and rounded the vehicle much faster than Mildred had anticipated. She was surprised at how fleet of foot he was. With his hand on the handle closest to her, he flashed Mildred a smile before bowing with a flourish and opening the door.
Out stepped a man in purple livery and a golden water lily emblazoned on the front of his surcoat. The implications of this man standing at her doorstep seared through Mildred’s veins and she struggled to maintain her composure. The gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair combed over the top of his balding crown twitched a smile when he took in Mildred.
She realised she was gaping. Rules of etiquette bombarded her and she sank into a low curtsey, while she fought to find her voice. To have before her a member of the imperial household, someone who worked directly for the emperor, was so utterly unexpected. Mildred didn’t quite know what to do with herself. What was her worry with money to the likes of this man?
“Lady Mildred.” Leandre stepped up to form the final point of a triangle between the three of them. “May I present His Lordship, imperial curator of ancient artefacts and protected buildings. He is known at court simply as the Curator.” Turning towards his purple-clad companion who was gazing up at the exterior of Thornwicket Manor, Leandre added, “Curator, this is Lady Mildred, Countess of Magnoliis.”
“Quite the château you have here, Countess,” the man said, gesturing towards the building. His voice was soft like a breath of wind and yet it had an undercurrent of ice like a winter southerly. A shrewd glint sparked to life in his dark brown eyes as he sized up both Mildred and her family home. “Difficulties with the inheritance, I presume?”
Once more, Mildred was shocked. All her training had prepared her to deal first with pleasantries and refreshments when faced with such a high-ranking official. However, this man had jumped straight into the topic at hand. How was she supposed to respond to him and maintain the strict rules of etiquette?
A bushy black eyebrow tinged with white wrinkled its way into the man’s forehead, and Mildred realised her rudeness in not answering the question. Standing there as if mute would most certainly not endear her to this gentleman who might hold the key to her salvation. Pulling herself together by sheer force of will, Mildred cleared her throat. Faced with the shock of having this man at her doorstep, the truth poured out of her with unexpected ease.
“Yes, Your Lordship. My father passed recently, and it was brought to my attention during the reading of his last will and testament that our estate had in fact become severely indebted—a situation I was previously oblivious to.”
The man sighed and nodded. “As is often the case, my dear.”
The dismissal of the pain and anxiety she’d endured for the past days stung, but Mildred had the good sense to keep her indignation to herself. She still felt at a loss as to how she should proceed since the Curator had bypassed the formalities. Then again, she had to bear in mind he’d plunged headlong into the case of the manor, and that was clearly where his interest lay as she observed him scrutinising the exterior of the building.
She made a snap decision. If it was the house he wished to see, then that was what she would do. “Your Lordship, would you prefer to survey the exterior or interior of the manor first?” His eyes locked onto her, and Mildred swallowed, adding hastily, “And what refreshment would be acceptable?”
The Curator bobbed his head in acknowledgement and turned towards Leandre. “I like her.” Heat rushed up through Mildred’s neck, cheeks and ears, but she bit her lip, waiting for answers to her questions, which came a heartbeat later.
“I shall begin the inspection with the grounds and building façade. From there we can examine the interior and perhaps partake of some light refreshment. No alcohol.”
Mildred nodded. “Would lemonade suit, Your Lordship?”
“Yes, that will be adequate.”
Gesturing towards her right, Mildred said, “The manor gardens are situated in an L shape around the northern and eastern sides of the building. I shall rejoin you shortly.”
“Hop to it, Countess. I shall be waiting.” The Curator inclined his head towards Leandre. “Shall we?”
Mildred made haste back up the stairs and, as soon as she was out of sight of the men below, she ran. Brushing off Kayden’s questioning glance with a hurried, “No time to explain! Purple livery!” she raced into the kitchen. After rattling off a list of instructions, including removing the dust covers in the salon and as many of the other downstairs rooms as possible, Mildred dashed back outside and only resumed a leisurely pace to catch her breath a little way before joining the two men in their stroll through the gardens.
The Curator complimented the upkeep of the box hedges, which made wonderful patterns when viewed from the manor house, but he tutted about the choice of some of the other plants on display. He also had much to say about the state of the building’s exterior. Mildred was devastated to have mould she’d never noticed before pointed out to her in passing, as if it were the most visible thing in the world.
Nothing improved once they headed inside. After enjoying some refreshments in the parlour, the Curator proceeded to criticise every little detail, especially things Mildred found endearing like the scuff marks of furniture on the old wooden flooring. She breathed through the comments, even as her heart sank with every new judgement the Curator made. This was her only chance, and she didn’t even know what was at stake. Leandre had mentioned the Curator oversaw artefacts and buildings, but in what capacity and of what interest was Thornwicket Manor to the man? Considering she only had two more days until the loan payment was due, she trembled under the Curator’s heavy hand.
The Curator brushed a gloved finger over the top of the mantle shelf in the ballroom. “It is kept well clean,” he complimented, though Mildred wasn’t certain anymore if it really was praise. The man’s voice was so cold and unfeeling, she didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Straightening her shoulders, she prepared herself as best she could for what was to come. She wouldn’t be kept in the dark anymore. After having been civil and kept herself to the mores of the social hierarchy, matters were as they were, and she needed answers. Since the Curator wasn’t volunteering anything, she would have to ask.
“My Lord Curator,” Mildred began. The man turned towards her, his head inclined, eyes observant, and she felt like she, too, was being assessed. “I fear I am not fully informed as to the nature of your visit today. Leandre was reticent on giving me any details apart from the fact you might consider coming here, but I know nothing more.” Feeling nervous and afraid she might waver or even drift into silence, Mildred pushed through the rest of what she wanted to say. “What is your interest in Thornwicket Manor, and how may it influence the state of the debts I’ve been saddled with?”
Mildred’s hands twisted around each other. The gnawing hole in the pit of her stomach seemed to grow as silence drew out between them. Sweat tingled at Mildred’s hairline, and she wondered if she had overstepped herself. Kayden situated himself beside her, offering wordless support, for which she was grateful. However, his presence reminded her she hadn’t introduced Kayden to the Curator, and that increased the nervous thudding of her heart.
“Countess.” The man had suddenly switched his affability-meter up to full force, and Mildred was taken by surprise by the sudden charm he exuded. “As His Imperial Majesty’s Curator of ancient artefacts and protected buildings, I am in charge of procuring said artefacts and buildings on the emperor’s behalf. It is also my duty to oversee the management of the protected buildings and the display of artefacts in the Imperial Museum.” He smiled, and Mildred felt a sense of calm spread through her. Everything was going to be well.
“Day before yesterday, the emperor renewed the budget for acquisitions. I have been instructed to explore the possibility of acquiring some properties on the emperor’s behalf, and particularly historical buildings in the environs of The Capital. The main purpose of this procurement is to have access to lodging for visiting dignitaries while the palace is under construction.”
The Curator glanced around the ball room, nodding as he continued. “It seems the most fortuitous of circumstances that Leandre here was aware of the availability of this most suitable of properties. I’ve staked out several others where I know of the possibility for buying, but none is as much to the emperor’s specifications as this one. The building is in good repair, and the work that needs to be done, minor. I am also particularly taken by the blending of old and new that the glass domed entrance provides. It is forward-thinking and in good taste, not to mention the practicality of the very well-installed modern amenities.”
His words flushed the blood out of Mildred’s body. In this miraculous twist of fate, the very reasons for her financial trouble could prove to provide a perfect resolution.
“Your Lordship, I am Kayden Geltcrest, a personal friend of Countess—”
“Friend? You appear to be far more than that, young man.” His eyes twinkled.
Mildred was startled when Kayden dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. What was that? Mildred glanced between the two men, the one embarrassed, the other knowing. And from the corner of her eye, Mildred even noticed Leandre trying to hide a smile.
The Curator shook his head, giving Kayden one last hard stare before turning his attention back to Mildred. “Would you like to sit, my dear? You seemed faint.”
“I apologise, Your Lordship. I was struck by the twist of fate that makes the very reasons for my predicament the aspects of this house that most appeal to you.”
“Ah. Is that so?” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “The dome?” He pointed in the direction of the front of the building.
Mildred nodded, adding, “And the plumbing. They are the result of the first of two loans my father took out, and are the reason the manor risks foreclosure the day after tomorrow.”
“Well, we cannot have that.” The Curator seemed affronted. “Such forward-thinking most definitely deserves some grace, even if it is imperial and not the grace of the Dragons—” he paused, tilting his head for a moment before chuckling, “or it might be both. Who am I to say?”
Gesturing for the others to follow, the Curator headed towards the double doors of the ballroom. “Come, we shall sit in your parlour and discuss the finer details, for I am most satisfied with Thornwicket Manor. It will be the emperor’s finest country lodge, and you, Countess.” he nodded towards Mildred as he perched on the edge of a settee, “If you would like to be, may stay on as the overseer.”
Mildred stumbled into her seat with less finesse than she would have liked. “Your Lordship?”
“You are the most suitable person to supervise the running of the manor and to fulfil any requirements when visitors are placed here. You know the building and seem to possess the acumen to successfully run the place and ensure all is to His Imperial Highness’ liking. Additionally, you still have the lands of the larger estate, which will remain yours. The exchange I am interested in is exclusive to Thornwicket Manor, the building, and its gardens.”
Reeling under the immensity of the unexpected situation, Mildred leaned back, struggling to grasp everything that was being said. “Do I—” she shook her head, gathering her thoughts. “Do I understand correctly, that I shall continue to fulfil my duties as countess, shall receive the revenues of the lands, and be given a stipend as an employee in the service of His Imperial Highness?”
The Curator nodded. “Yes, precisely.” Stroking two fingers over his moustache, he went on. “Considering the emperor’s needs, this shall not be a closed building, readied only when needed. It shall have to be ready at a moment’s notice. This means a small, permanent staff will be needed.” His eyes bored into Mildred. “I think two maids, two footmen, and a housekeeper will be adequate.”
Mildred’s heart leapt. Could she secure those places for some of the people already working here? “Your Lordship, would you like to speak to the people filling those positions at this time to assess them for their suitability?”
“Why, yes. That would be most advantageous. Although, before we get to that, we must discuss lodgings. For the servants of the house have their own rooms, am I correct?”
“Yes, Your Lordship.”
“However, that would not be suitable for yourself, Countess. Are there any alternatives that would allow you to live at or near Thornwicket, without taking up any of the main rooms here at the manor?”
Mildred leaned back. Her mind played over the Curator’s words. It was true, even if she didn’t mind becoming a servant in her own home to keep a roof over her head, her mother would not harbour such sentiment. She felt her eyebrows drawing together as she considered her options. Where could she and her mother live, if they weren’t able to stay at the manor? The Curator said it needed to be nearby, since he wanted her close and able to oversee the smooth running of Thornwicket. And of course, that would be helpful too since she also had to keep an eye on the estate and how her few remaining assets were managed.
“I—I don’t know—” Mildred began, her mind racing over the possibility of renting a room in Magnoliis town. She shook it off. There wasn’t any money for that, not at this time, and a rental would require a down payment. No, there had to be a better option. “I think I might have to think on it—Although—” Something tugged at her mind, but Mildred couldn’t quite settle on what it was. She glanced over to see the Curator nodding, his fingers tracing his moustache over and over as he, too, contemplated.
Kayden shifted on the seat where he’d settled beside her. His thoughts were also far distant, his brow furrowed, and filaments of his hair had fallen into his face. Mildred pulled her gaze away from him, even as her heart objected to the intrusion on her contemplations. This wasn’t the time to lose her train of thought. She needed to find a solution to the situation at hand.
Her gaze drifted to the right, over the manor gardens, and her mind swept beyond that to the larger estate. With the image of Kayden’s face fresh in her mind, her memory swirled the vision of him staring out wistfully over a tangled, overgrown garden from the little cottage her great-grandmother had lived in.
“The Cottage!” Mildred exclaimed. All three men stared at her and Mildred hurried to explain. “There’s a cottage on the northeastern extremity of the estate. It was used by my great-grandmother, the dowager countess, until she died. It’s stood empty for a few decades, but when I looked it over last half-round, it seemed in good enough condition.”
“Well,” the Curator nodded, pleased. “That sounds splendid. You’d still be on the property. Very practical.”
Mildred nodded. In her mind, she was already setting up the abandoned cottage as her new home. She could picture her mother, rocking in her favourite chair beside a roaring fire in the cold winter or sitting on the porch with a shawl over her bony shoulders. Kayden also featured prominently, but she brushed those thoughts aside. She needed to refine this first and then she could talk to him about the other matter.
The image of her mother’s chair brought another question, and Mildred turned towards the Curator. “Your Lordship, do I understand correctly you will wish to keep the furnishings as they are here in the manor?”
“Yes.” He leaned forwards a little, making his stomach strain against its constraints of purple fabric. “I do have an idea on that matter, you see. We’ve successfully turned another old manor into a venue for day visitors to appreciate the history and changing times. The paintings and the furniture you have are very tasteful and also perfectly capture a style and way of life that are fading away. Keeping the downstairs area as it is for the public to visit may, indeed, serve very well. And doing so would mean the full inventory of the house would be included in the price of my offer.”
Mildred nodded. Two questions burned at the tip of her tongue, and she took a moment to sort through which was the more important one to ask. In the end, sentiment won over practicality.
“I have two questions, but I think I shall ask the one of emotional value first.” The Curator raised an eyebrow but said nothing, so Mildred continued. “There are a few items of deep sentimental value I would appreciate being able to keep in my own home, if that is acceptable.”
“Which items?”
Mildred cleared her throat, glancing at the shelf running along the wall. “Well, the first is my mother’s rocking chair which she keeps in her bedroom. And,” she gestured towards the shelf to her left, “that pair of porcelain statues, and my great-grandfather’s snuff box beside them. That vase,” she gestured to a blue and white hand-painted piece of exquisite workmanship standing on a plinth between the shelf and the doorway. Lastly, she gestured above it to the wall. “And my painting of Thornwicket.”
“I would say yes to all except for the vase. That is an exquisite piece and of great value.”
Mildred bit her lip. She wanted to defer to his decision, but something made her say, “It was a gift bequeathed by the emperor to my grandfather for services rendered to the empire. I shall gladly leave it to the estate in my will, but for me, it is a reminder of what my ancestors have achieved and if all else shall pass out of my possession during my lifetime, I would but keep that one reminder, if I may.”
The Curator stared at her for a long moment and Mildred, unsure whether it was displeasure or admiration, hesitated. Considering his status, he wouldn’t be used to being gainsaid, this was clear; but neither was Mildred and she held onto her conviction firmly. She would not back down.
At length, the Curator sat back and sighed, “As you wish, Countess. And your other question?”
Mildred smiled, “I have had all the furnishings evaluated. Would you like that list?”
“Indeed, most sensible. Thank you,” he replied and shifted forwards in his seat. “Now, as to the matter of the servants, is there somewhere I might speak with them one at a time?”
“Yes of course. The study is this way, Your Lordship.”
Mildred came to her feet, as did Kayden. Leandre gave the Curator a hand when the older man struggled to rise and then Mildred stepped forwards, ready to lead the way. In that precise moment, Mildred’s mother, looking rather worse for wear, stumbled into the room. Her hair had come loose from its severe pins, and a bottle of wine dangled in her loose grip.
Mildred blinked. Was this her mother? Before she could gather her thoughts and reconcile the usually demure older woman with the new vision she had before her, Claudette staggered forwards and collapsed into the settee Mildred and Kayden had just vacated.
“Ah, Millie-dear. I do wonder—hic—if you will partake of this wine with me.” She gestured with the bottle before taking a swig. Mildred glanced from her mother to the Curator and back, struggling to work out what she could do to minimise the damage her mother was doing not only to their reputation, but also to the potential transaction taking place.
“You shee, Millie-dear, I have deshided—if they are to take the home from ush—the wine shellar—” Claudette paused, turning her bleary eyes on the three men around Mildred. “Ooooh. We have gueshtsh. Pleash, gentlemen. Join me for a drink! This Vendalen ish shimply deevine.”
“Mother. Thank you for joining us.” Mildred gritted through her teeth as she stepped forwards, holding onto the tiny thread of proprietary with all her might. “May I present His Lordship, the Imperial Curator who is here on a matter of business.” Turning her back on Claudette, Mildred met the Curator’s eye, noticed he was suppressing a chuckle, and she let out a long slow breath. “Your Lordship declined a drink earlier, may you be swayed now?”
“No. We had better return to the matter at hand.”
“In that case, Your Lordship, if you would. This way, please.” Ignoring her mother as best she could, Mildred concentrated on the matter of the Curator’s request. She needed to bring the servants to him one at a time. That was the most important.
Once she’d assured herself the Curator was comfortably settled in the study, she was about to hurry in search of the footmen, when Kayden laid a hand on her shoulder, stopping her short.
“Tell me what I can do to help, Mildred. There must be something I can do.” Her heart leapt at the kind concern she read in his eyes. He gave her a wry smile and glanced back towards the salon from which they had just come. “I fear you are the only one who can assist your mother under the circumstances.”
“Housekeeper. Maids.” Mildred said, her mind scrambling through the need to get her mother hydrated and to bed. “I’ll get the footmen to help me with Mother before sending them down.” She let a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “If you can get the servants to come in here one at a time, that would be perfect. Thank you, Kayden.”
“As you wish, dearest.” He made his way to the adjoining room, which led to the kitchen.
Mildred turned her attention to the Curator. “Your Lordship, is there anything else I might provide while you wait?”
“Well,” he leaned back in her father’s leather chair, rapping his fingers on the wooden desk in front of him. “I suppose if you have that inventory, I might peruse it while I wait.”
Another relief. Mildred hastened around the other side of the desk and flipped through the stack of pages she’d left in the corner. She pulled out the list of meticulously registered items and their value, handing it to the Curator.
“Here you are, Your Lordship. The valuation was done a half-round ago.”
“Splendid, thank you. That will be all.”
Mildred curtseyed and headed back towards the salon. Leandre fell into step beside her, saying, “Lady Mildred, is there anything I might help with?”
Eyeing him, Mildred at first considered declining, but then remembered the state her mother was in and Leandre had already proven himself a friend. If ever she needed support, the confrontation she was walking towards would require one.
Swallowing, she admitted, “I don’t know. But your presence is already much appreciated. Thank you, Leandre, for being here and for having brought the Curator today. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for the kind consideration you’ve shown me.”
“It is a pleasure to serve, Countess,” he bobbed his head, the loose strands of his hair fluttering about his shoulders.
Mildred noticed he braided back the strands at his temples like his brother did. They reached the salon where her mother lay draped on the settee, the back of one hand resting upon her brow while the other trailed down onto the floor where she clasped the neck of the now empty wine bottle.
“Mother,” Mildred began.
“Oh, Millie-dear.” Claudette dropped her hand to her bosom, sufficiently sobered now that she spoke clearly. “I cannot bear it. To see the estate and everything in it ripped away—the Ghirseba line reduced to nothing. It is an affront. How dare they take all this away from us? I would not have it, but what am I to do? There is nothing left but the silent wasting away of age—in poverty.” Her voice had risen, growing louder with every word until it cracked. Claudette shifted, meeting Mildred’s gaze with her tear-filled eyes.
“Mother,” Mildred began, trying to keep disappointment and anxiety out of her voice. “I understand this is frustrating, and I know you’ve been struggling to come to terms with everything. Please, Mother.” She stretched out a hand, offering to help Claudette up. “Rest. I’ll help you to your room. You’ll need a drink of water, and I’m certain it will all be better in the morning. We have a buyer for the manor, and I just know all is going to be well.”
“Oh, Millie. You and your hopeful fantasies—If only such a thing were possible. I would need a lot more wine before I could begin to believe such fiddle faddle.”
“Mother, you’ve had plenty of wine.” Mildred reiterated the offer of her hand.
Claudette glared at Mildred’s outstretched hand for a moment before fixing her bleary gaze on her daughter’s face. “What is the point? Whether tomorrow, or the day after, it will all come to an end—better to die now and leave this injustice.” Claudette collapsed backwards, her hand flinging back to rest upon her forehead once more. “I think I shall do just that. Stay here and await the inevitable.”
Biting back the humiliation of her mother speaking of injustice before someone like Leandre, Mildred squared her shoulders and stepped up beside Claudette. “Mother, that will do. You’re drunk, and you need to sleep it off. In the morning, I’ll tell you all about the marvellous possibility that’s presented itself, and which may resolve everything. Come. Trust me, Mother. I can do this, and—”
“Oh, but what is the use in fighting—in striving?”
Slipping an arm under her mother’s shoulders, Mildred pushed Claudette into a sitting position. Her mother was all bones. Mildred hadn’t realised how much weight her mother had lost over the past days.
“Mother, have you been eating at all?” She couldn’t stop her alarm from showing.
“Why eat? Whatever for?”
“Look, Mother. I know you’re despairing, but you can’t give up hope yet. There is still so much to live for, so much to do. Don’t you want to experience grandchildren, at the least?”
“Oh, by the Dragons? Who would marry you now, Millie? Your prospects have vanished into the space-hole of your father’s making. I keep on telling you, there’s nothing left to hope for. It’s all inevitable.”
“If you won’t listen to me, then at the very least come with me now. You need to go to bed. Shall I fetch one of the footmen to carry you back upstairs?”
“Oh, Dragons. No. That would be most undignified.”
“And lounging on a settee with a bottle dangling from your fingers right in front of the Imperial Curator isn’t?!”
“Curato who?”
“Oh, nevermind. Come, Mother.”
Heaving Claudette onto her feet, Mildred slung her mother’s limp bony arm around her shoulder and staggered under the dead weight. She hadn’t thought this through properly. Her mother was clearly in no condition to walk up a set of stairs, Mildred realised when Claudette’s legs trembled and she made to collapse back into the settee.
“Lady Mildred; Dowager Countess.” Leandre stepped up taking a short bow, which sent his long hair swinging. “My name is Leandre, if you please, my lady. Allow me to be of assistance.”
Claudette leaned forwards, eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Mildred made to speak, but Leandre beat her to it. “My name is Leandre, and I am a friend, my lady. If I might say so, I firmly believe your falling star will rise once more. It is well on its way to doing so even now.”
Raising an eyebrow, Claudette said, “Oh, is that so?” She shifted to meet Mildred’s gaze. “Why is this stranger in our home, Millie?”
Swallowing back her anger at the slight her mother showed Leandre, Mildred ground her teeth before retorting, “He is my guest and a friend. A trusted friend. And he has shown great concern for our well-being and has quite possibly engendered our salvation. Now stop insulting my guests and come.” She tugged Claudette by the arm, but the drink made the older woman’s legs uncoordinated.
Claudette stumbled and would have fallen if Leandre hadn’t caught her. “Please lead the way, Lady Mildred. I shall manage.”
“Unhand me!” Claudette cried, but Leandre turned her to face him, supporting her arms by the elbows.
“Please, Dowager Countess. Allow me to assist you. It will be only a minute.”
“Oh,” Claudette said, her voice turning husky. “You have the most fascinating eyes.”
“Mother!” Heat seared up Mildred’s neck and cheeks, culminating at the top of her ears, which tingled with embarrassment. “Please, Mother. Get a grip.”
Claudette giggled. “I think I might do just that.” She leaned into Leandre, trailing a finger up his arm.
Leandre chuckled and turned Claudette to face away from him. “This way?” He raised an eyebrow at Mildred as he guided Claudette towards the door into the entrance hall.
“Y—yes,” Mildred stuttered, still mortified at her mother’s behaviour.
With much cajoling on Mildred and Leandre’s part, as well as the assistance of one of the footmen, Claudette made it to the landing. Mildred marvelled at how quickly her mother recuperated. As soon as they were up the stairs, Claudette sauntered towards her room as if nothing were amiss and she hadn’t just consumed an entire bottle of the most heady Vendalen wine.
By the time they’d reached her door, which Robyn held open, Claudette seemed entirely sober and Mildred was surprised to see a glint in her mother’s eyes that she didn’t recall ever having seen before.
“Do come in,” she said to Leandre, her eyes glittering.
“I fear I cannot, Dowager Countess,” Leandre bowed. “I have business to attend to, but it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Claudette pouted. “Will you visit again soon?”
“I shall endeavour to try,” he paused, turning towards Mildred standing to one side in the hallway, “if it is an invitation extended with the countess’ blessing, that is.”
Without hesitation and sincerely meaning every word, Mildred replied, “You are welcome no matter what the tides of life bestow upon us. Thank you for everything you’ve done, my friend.”
Leandre bobbed his head, took his leave from Claudette, and sauntered down the hall while Mildred ushered her mother into her room. After ensuring the dowager countess was settled, Mildred took her leave and headed back downstairs.
In the entrance hall, she found Leandre staring at the glass dome that reflected the late afternoon sunlight in a glittering array of rainbow shimmers. As she came down the stairs, Mildred said, “Thank you, Leandre. I really appreciate your coming this afternoon and bringing the Curator. I don’t know what I would have done without this stroke of luck.”
“Ah, luck—grace—the interweaving of the Dragons’ will—it is all one and the same. They are born of belief. I was absolutely certain when we spoke at the APMC meeting that a solution would present itself. Of course, I couldn’t have known it would be my mentor at the Bureau who would prove to be the key in all this.”
“The Curator is your mentor?”
“Yes. As the newly-appointed head of the department for magical containment and affairs, I have to ensure my department remains within the auspices of the imperial system. To do so, I have to be trained and coached. The Curator is my link into the inner workings of the system.”
Mildred nodded. “What a fortuitous coincidence,” she murmured.
“Quite.” Leandre smiled. “Although, I have found coincidences are the truest sign of the Dragons’ blessings. It is not up to us to know how a difficult situation will resolve itself. We have to do what we can towards the goal we’re reaching for, but we must also have the humility to let the Dragons’ work unfold. We cannot control everything.”
Mildred contemplated this. It echoed the feeling she’d had moments before the Curator had arrived. Knowing how it will unfold is not my business, she mused. Doing what I can from where I am is only part of it. Accepting the opportunities that present themselves is the other. She considered the conversation she’d had with Claudette. Mother completely missed the opportunity of having the Imperial Curator in her home. What more gifts from the Dragons has she ignored because she didn’t see the opportunity? The thought made Mildred sad and strengthened her resolve to make the most of this opportunity she was being given with the Curator’s presence.
Leandre gestured towards the dome he’d been studying. “It is a very clever construction,” he said. “Very modern. And iconic.”
Mildred smiled wryly. “And expensive.”
“Why did your father have it built?”
Mildred shrugged. “Father was plagued by a belief that he had to do better than those who came before him. My ancestor, seven times removed, had the original manor built. His son added an extension and the stables. The count following that had the downstairs revamped and the ballroom built. My great-grandfather had the new exterior done, expanding and updating the entire manor’s aesthetic. My grandfather had the east wing extension built, and my father, wanting to be a part of the legacy, and not to be outdone by his ancestors, had this dome erected on the western side and installed modern plumbing.” She shook her head. “All in the great game of one-upmanship.”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to be so hard on him, Lady Mildred. He was clearly a visionary.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true. Father always had grand dreams. He was—well, I suppose the best way to put it is, he was larger than life.”
Leandre turned, gesturing towards the door leading into the salon, but Mildred called the footman idling by the door. “Good afternoon, Harold. His Lordship, the Curator wishes to speak with all of you who are footmen. Please can you assemble the others and wait on His Lordship in the study? Positions will remain for two of you, if His Lordship is satisfied.”
“Oh, thank you, Countess.” The footman saluted and strode through to the servants’ door hidden in a gloomy recess at the end of the hallway.
Mildred called after him, “How many times do I have to remind you, no saluting!”
“I am a creature of habit, Countess. Please forgive the lapse,” he replied, taking a less formal bow before ducking into the passageway.
Mildred sighed. “Please Leandre, this way. Can I send for anything? Refreshments?”
“Oh, no. Please do not trouble yourself.”
* * *
Over an hour later, the Curator returned to the salon where Mildred, Kayden, and Leandre sat chatting about the APMC and the decisions taken earlier that afternoon. Upon noticing the Curator, Mildred rose.
“Can I offer you some refreshment, Your Lordship?”
He raised a hand, shaking his head. Settling into the settee chair across from them, the Curator said, “I have come to a decision. I shall take the manor at its value of two million imperial notes, and after perusing the inventory, accept the full valuation of two hundred and fifty thousand.”
Mildred’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. It was so much more than she hoped for.
The Curator still spoke, saying, “The housekeeper, two footmen, and the two maids I interviewed shall stay. They appear to be of excellent stock. That leaves the footman, Harold, and the cook—I believe—for you to dispose of as you see fit.”
Mildred came to her feet almost wanting to hug the old man, but instead falling into a deep curtsey. “How can I ever thank you for this generosity?”
“Now, now, dear. No need to get emotional. I think your lady mother has done enough for the both of you.”
Mildred sniffed. “About that, Your Lordship. Please forgive—”
Again, he held up a hand. “Please, Countess, there is nothing to forgive. She has been through much, I understand. It must certainly have been a difficult time for her, and if I may be quite frank, the dowager countess doesn’t hold a candle to the eccentricities and self-absorption of some of the imperials. I am used to it.” He took a breath, his mind already turning to other matters. “Ah, yes. That reminds me. This wine collection the dowager countess mentioned. It is not listed in the inventory.”
“Oh?” Mildred frowned. “I hadn’t realised.” She pondered a moment, trying to remember her mother’s comments from after the evaluator had left. “It seems strange, but we must have missed it in the valuation. What are your thoughts, Curator. Would this be of interest to you? It’s wine. Mostly really old wine. My grandfather was an overzealous collector. I know father added a few vintages, but he was more interested in consuming than collecting it.”
“Might I see the cellar? Perhaps it will give me a better understanding of the collection’s value.”
“Why yes, of course.”
After summoning the housekeeper and requesting the keys, Mildred led the party of curious men to the back courtyard and around a flight of steps located close to the kitchen door. The housekeeper twisted the heavy iron key in the lock, and the door creaked when it was pushed open. Everyone crowded down the roughly hewn stone steps and shuffled through the arched doorway into a cavernous hole.
The housekeeper lit a torch, and the flickering light shone a short way into the darkness, illuminating rows of rough stone columns holding up the ceiling and more crates, bottles and barrels than Mildred had ever dreamed possible.
“The cellar extends under about a third of the mansion,” the housekeeper said, slipping the torch into place on a wall socket. He stepped into the gloom and lit another a short way distant.
Mildred gazed at the immense stockpile of liquor stretching out into the blackness. She’d never even considered the immensity of this little collection her grandfather had prized. Shaking her head in wonder mixed with bewilderment, Mildred asked, “How are we ever going to get this valued in time?”
The housekeeper cleared his throat. “My lady, there is a ledger. In the office.”
Her eyes widened. How had she not known about this? Her gaze fell upon the Curator whose eyes glittered in the flickering torchlight.
“Would this interest you, Your Lordship?”
The corpulent man walked over to the nearest row of shelving and pulled out one of the dusty bottles, perusing the label. Replacing it with a chink of glass against glass, he turned to the next series of containers. He hemmed and hawed, muttering to himself until at length he turned to Mildred again.
“Yes, indeed. I believe the imperial house would be very much pleased, although it would be advisable to take a look at the ledger mentioned.”
“Why, yes of course, Your Lordship. We can do that right away.”
Back in the study, the housekeeper removed from the shelf a ledger Mildred hadn’t even known existed. Another of her father’s closely-guarded secrets, it would seem.
“My lady.” He handed it to her.
With trembling fingers, Mildred opened the book, which contained entries dating back almost a century, detailing acquisitions of shipments of wine and how many were stored, and where, as well as sales and gifts made. The housekeeper also pointed out a page in which the household consumption was noted, down to the bottle which Mildred’s mother had requested earlier that afternoon.
With trembling knees, Mildred sank into the armchair while the housekeeper flipped through to the back of the ledger. There, on a separate sheet, the entire contents of the cellar as of the beginning of that year was listed, as well as the estimated value provided by the very same evaluating house Mildred’s mother had gone through the manor with.
Mildred glanced at the final figures at the bottom of the page. “Two thousand, two hundred and eighty-four items, valued to approximately five hundred and sixty-nine thousand imperial notes.” Her brain flew over the numbers, combining this sum with what the Curator had quoted her earlier. “Two million, eight hundred and nineteen thousand,” she breathed.
“Indeed,” the Curator confirmed.
Tears pricked in Mildred’s eyes. It was indeed very close. At the very least, it would pay off the immediate debt and leave her the room to resolve what remained of the second loan.
The Curator held out his hand for the list, which trembled feebly in Mildred’s grasp. “May I?” he asked. Mildred handed it to him, and after a moment, he said, “Lady Mildred, I shall have to see, but I wonder if His Imperial Highness might be prevailed upon to buy this most exquisite of wine collections from you. I shall be able to provide you with an answer tomorrow, at which time I could also complete the transaction we discussed about the manor and its future. I merely need to draw up some papers on the matter. I can bring them here tomorrow afternoon.”
Mildred looked up. The thought of the Curator making the journey a second time, even if the distance wasn’t great, made her wonder at the treatment of the empire’s most elevated bureaucrats. He was a member of the Imperial Staff, exalted among all and most certainly ranked above her. She was mere landed gentry by comparison, not someone who kept everything running smoothly. Why should he have to come to her?
“Would it, perhaps, be simpler if I come to the Bureau, Curator? I would not put you through the additional time and strain of the journey if it isn’t necessary.”
Again, the Curator gave her a curious look, as if her proposition baffled him. “Well, you are correct in thinking I could use the time better to attend to my work. If you are certain it wouldn’t be any trouble, then come to the Imperial Bureau tomorrow one strike after luncheon.”
“Of course. No trouble at all.” Mildred couldn’t contain the smile spreading through her.
“Very good. Until tomorrow, Lady Mildred.”
After bidding the Curator and Leandre goodbye, Mildred and Kayden returned to the house. It would soon be dinner time, but they sat in silence in the salon. Mildred’s mind wandered over the immensity of the coincidences that had come together for her all in a single afternoon. It might still not be all she needed to pay off the full debt, but her life was saved, for the second loan was not yet fully due. She also contemplated visiting Mr Megobruli’s offices the following day after speaking with the Curator. Once everything was signed, it would be prudent to inform the advocate directly. She strode to the office and placed a telephone call to the advocate to request an appointment with him the following afternoon.
She sat contemplating it all one more time when Kayden startled her from her thoughts. “What are you mulling over, dearest?”
“Mostly about the sheer coincidence of it all. How is it possible all that could unfold in a single afternoon? I’ve been trying to resolve this for days!”
Kayden nodded. “It is most fortuitous, isn’t it. Almost as if it were meant to be.”
“Yes, exactly.” The image of her mother, stumbling into the salon next door and collapsing onto the settee brought embarrassment flooding through Mildred. “And to think mother making a total fool of herself was the key to unearthing an extra five hundred thousand imperial notes worth of goods. It’s uncanny.”
Kayden ushered her into the salon and encouraged her to sit. Settling himself beside her, he laid a hand over hers. “There was something I have been meaning to tell you, and I think now is finally the opportune time to do so.”
There was something serious about him that sent a shiver down Mildred’s spine. It reminded her of her epiphany earlier that afternoon. “You do? I think I do too.”
Kayden’s right eyebrow lifted. “Really? Would you like to go first?” He gestured with his left hand, his right still holding hers and drawing calming circles over her knuckles.
Heat shot up Mildred’s neck when she remembered how she’d almost kissed him. With her heart pounding frantically in her chest and her ears burning, she shook her head. “No, no. Please, Kayden. Say your piece first.”
Kayden cleared his throat and took both of Mildred’s hands in his, shifting slightly on the seat. “Mildred.” He paused, flicking his tongue over his lips, and Mildred observed a whole range of emotions flit across his features, but most prominent was nervousness. “I don’t quite know where to start.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, bringing his fingers back to clasp hers a moment later.
“I suppose—what I mean to say—well,” Kayden huffed, dropping his eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Before I met you, I believed only in hard work and wealth. To me, ideas like kindness, generosity, and even love seemed completely ridiculous. I’d never experienced them. I spent my life fighting—fighting for the right to be seen, fighting for dignity in the face of my disability, fighting to become wealthy enough to live comfortably, fighting to prove myself in the eyes of others so they might, at the very least, treat me with respect even if they did not enjoy my company. You—”
His eyes blazed when he looked right at her. “You changed everything. That day your father brought you into my office, he was so dismissive and yet you smiled at me—saw me. Ever since, I have been blown away by the generosity you show. Your heart is so big, and you care so much! I—well, I—fell in love with you very quickly, but I had no real aspiration. I didn’t believe such an impossible dream could ever come true.”
Mildred squeezed his hands, smiling into his deep brown eyes. Kayden swallowed before continuing. “And then you smashed the glass casing I’d inadvertently built around my heart. That day—when your father—um—ordered you to associate with—how did he put it?”
Almost growling, Mildred said, “People of my ilk, as if money and snobbery were all that was important.” Pulling her hands back, she dropped her gaze. “It still makes me so angry he said the things he did as if you weren’t even in the room—right there, listening to him.”
Kayden’s fingertips traced the curve of her cheek and Mildred was drawn to the light in his eyes. He went on. “My heart dared to hope after that and as the months passed and you kept on coming to visit me or inviting me to this or that event, I tried to find the courage to tell you how I feel, but there was always something to distract me and I kept on putting it off. When your father passed, it didn’t seem like a good time, even though I realised it meant we might truly be able to be together, and—and then this whole calamity descended upon you, and you kept pushing me away.”
Now Mildred took his hands, absorbing the pain and a hint of fear she saw pouring from him. Kayden swallowed. He seemed to be struggling to push past the emotions, and Mildred tried to encourage him. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you’d still want me even if I were poor. That was what I glimpsed in you earlier today and I know with all my being, this is what I want.” She squeezed his hands again as her heart bubbled over with her love.
With an unexpected push, Kayden came to his feet, tugging Mildred up with him. “Mildred,” he said, drawing breath as if her very name were enough to sustain him. “You have changed me—or better said—you opened my eyes. I didn’t believe in love until I met you.” He leaned forwards, resting his forehead against hers, silky tendrils of his hair brushing against her cheeks and ears.
“I would kneel,” he murmured and withdrew his head with a gruff sigh. Then he fixed his eyes on her again, and Mildred felt as though she might melt. “As imperfect as it is—as I am—will you accept this proposal? Will you be my bride and live out your days by my side?”
Joy burst through Mildred’s veins as if her blood had taken wing. A sigh escaped her even as tears pricked in her eyes. How long had she wanted this? In the instant he asked, it seemed like they had wasted an eternity being friends when they could have been more. A hard lump lodged in her throat, and she nodded in answer, unable to force her voice past the growing tightness.
“Is that really a yes?” Kayden’s voice turned husky and his eyes glistened.
Mildred lifted her hand, letting her fingers trail through the dark strands of his hair. “Yes,” she murmured. As if that opened a floodgate, more poured out with her joy. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” She couldn’t stop a half-giggle-half-cry from crossing her lips, but the sound was cut off when Kayden’s mouth found hers. She leaned into him, and his hand found the nape of her neck, pulling her even closer and sending effervescent sparkles tingling all the way to her fingertips and toes.
* * *
Mildred stepped out of the Imperial Bureau and glanced back at the dazzling gold dome crowning the covered colonnade of the entrance, behind which rose the majestically tall building with its eye-catching vertical lines and beautiful stucco exterior. Her heart thudded with excitement, and she raised her gaze to the azure sky, giving thanks for the way her day was unfolding.
When she’d stepped into the cool, grandiose building, she’d been a woman on the verge of destitution. Now, a page boy, dressed in purple livery, accompanied her to the offices of Mr Megobruli where she would become anew.
The car pulled up, and the boy hopped into the front with the driver while she slipped into her place. A warm glow spread from Mildred’s stomach all the way to her fingertips. Sitting beside her was Kayden, and although she’d known he would be there, his presence made her heart soar.
“It looks like that went well.”
“Yes,” she nodded with a broad smile tugging at her cheeks. “It absolutely did.”
Kayden tilted his head. “So the Curator even bought the wine?”
“He says the emperor is so impressed by the list, which the Curator showed His Imperial Highness early this morning, that he’s been even more generous than I could have hoped.”
“Oh?”
Laughter bubbled inside her at the memory of her own shock when the Curator had informed her, in his dour way, of the emperor’s generosity. “The full amount for Thornwicket, its furnishings and the wine cellar come up to two million eight hundred and thirty thousand.”
Kayden let out a whistle. “That is more than the value given.”
“Yes, a little more. The emperor was ostensibly most pleased with the wines. He’s sending the imperial connoisseur over later today to begin sampling the collection.”
The automobile came to a halt, and Mildred saw they were outside the much less ostentatious, but still beautiful building in which Mr Megobruli and his associates had their offices.
“I’ll wait for you,” Kayden said as she stepped out.
Mildred turned. “You’re not coming?”
He shook his head, a smile glittering in his eyes. “This is your moment, dearest. Go on.”
Leaning on the vehicle door, Mildred shook her head. “No. Come. I want to share this with you.”
Kayden chuckled, disembarking from the other door. Once he reached Mildred, they linked arms and strode into the advocate’s suite together with the purple-clad page dogging their heels. They were ushered into the large, ornate office with its state-of-the-art gaslighting and thick green carpet.
Mildred was flung straight back into her previous encounter in this very room, her eyes alighting on the chair she’d clung to with every fibre in her body. Now, as she settled into the same chair, Kayden’s hand resting on her shoulder, she almost laughed at the uncanny coincidences that had brought her to this new moment where nothing had come to pass as expected.
Mr Megobruli greeted her, his spectacles glinting in the artificial light. “Lady Mildred. It is good to see you. And I have some unexpected news.” He smiled, but Mildred saw a hint of concern even though he seemed far more at ease and did not stutter as he had the previous time they’d spoken.
“Good, or bad?” she asked.
“All in all, it is surprising, but I think good.”
“Well, shall I share my undoubtedly good news first?” She had to stop herself from clasping her hands in glee, unable to contain the elation coursing through her.
The advocate raised a bushy eyebrow. “You have good news, Countess?”
“Indeed, I do.” Mildred gestured towards the page whom the advocate had overlooked. As Mr Megobruli took in the purple uniform emblazoned with the golden water lily of the Haldrian Imperial House, his eyes widened. The page stepped up, pulled a sheaf of papers from a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, and with a rustle handed it to Mr Megobruli.
“On behalf of his Imperial Majesty and by order of the Imperial Curator of ancient artefacts and protected buildings, I hereby declare the building known as Thornwicket Manor and all that lies within its walls the property of the imperial family, acquired on this, the third day of Riva, for the sum of two million eight hundred and thirty thousand imperial notes.”
Mr Megobruli’s jaw nearly hit the desk, and Mildred bit her lip to stop the giggle wanting to burst through.
“T—t—two million—eight—” Mr Megobruli stuttered.
Mildred couldn’t contain her excitement anymore. “Two million eight hundred and thirty thousand, yes!”
The advocate took the papers in trembling fingers and scanned the beautifully penned pages. He pushed himself to his feet, the heavy chair snagging on the carpet as he did so and teetering for a moment before tilting upright again.
“Thank you for your service,” he said to the page, taking a bow.
The young man did the same and clicking his heels together turned to Mildred. She smiled and bowed her head. “Again, with all my heart I thank you for your service today.”
A smile flashed and he slung his satchel back into place, bowed his head one more time and Mildred noticed Kayden taking a formal bow as well, before the page strode out of the room to attend to whatever other business he had.
Mr Megobruli held a hand over his heart and looked over his desk at Mildred. “That was most unexpected,” he murmured.
“Yes. It all unfolded yesterday afternoon and was concluded a mere half hour ago.”
Breathing deeply, Mr Megobruli smiled over at Mildred. “On the wings of this excellent news,” he began, “I am overjoyed to be able to inform you, the lenders have agreed to reduce the interest on the current total owed if it can be paid in full during the next round. This amounts to a total—including the interest formerly accrued—of two million, nine hundred and forty-two thousand five hundred and sixty-two imperial notes. With the amount you have just brought to the table,” he gestured towards the papers on his desk, “that leaves one hundred and twelve—uh—thousand—let me see—”
“The difference is one hundred and twelve thousand five hundred and sixty-two,” Kayden affirmed.
Mr Megobruli nodded, running a hand over his snowy beard. “Yes, that is correct.”
“Do I understand that if I can put together the sum of one hundred and twelve thousand five hundred and sixty-two imperial notes by the end of the next round, then I am free of both loans my father took out?” Mildred asked, her fingers trembling in her lap.
“Indeed, yes,” Mr Megobruli confirmed.
Mildred sat back in her chair. She had a little over six hundred imperial notes in her personal account, what was left of her allowance before her father passed away. She needed another hundred and twelve thousand. It had to be possible. She just needed to work out who could help her or how she could bring together such funds. Did she have anything else to sell? Perhaps some of her mother’s jewels could fetch that amount?
Kayden’s hand placed light pressure on Mildred’s shoulder. “That is a sum I can easily provide.” Mildred made to protest, but Kayden insisted, “I would like you to listen, Mildred. If we are to be husband and wife, then what is mine will be yours. What better way for me to prove that I am committed than to show it in the traditional sense. Does the vow not request I pledge myself to you in all eventualities as a pillar to stand by you and for you to lean on?”
Mildred bit back her objection. He was right. They had promised themselves to each other, even if it wasn’t official yet. If their roles were reversed, she knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer and glancing up into Kayden’s eyes, glittering with resolve, she understood it would be thankless of her to deny his offer.
Mr Megobruli cleared his throat, and Mildred turned her attention back to the advocate. “First, allow me to congratulate you both. These are indeed fair tidings. However, before you take that particular path any further, there is another piece of good news I have for you, Lady Mildred.” Mr Megobruli leaned over to pull the lever on the wall beside his desk and a bell jangled in the hallway.
Within moments, a lad popped his head round the door. “You called, Mr Megobruli?”
“Yes, send the captain in.”
Mildred glanced from Kayden who shrugged to Mr Megobruli who raised a hand, indicating all would be revealed shortly. Soon after, the door swung open to reveal a man whose face was puckered with fresh pink scars and who favoured his left leg. Mildred estimated he was in his forties. Rising to her feet, Mildred faced the newcomer.
“Lady Mildred.” Mr Megobruli also came to his feet and gestured to the approaching man, “this is Captain Samqaro. May I present Lady Mildred, Countess of Magnoliis.”
Shaking the man’s hand, Mildred bit back the ‘and who are you’ question burning at the forefront of her mind. The captain’s hands were calloused, and she wondered what kind of work could make a military officer’s hands so rough. Although, he wasn’t wearing the black and gold imperial officer’s uniform, which was rather strange.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Countess,” the captain said. His voice was rough, almost hoarse. “I would like to offer my condolences on the passing of your father. The count was a good man, and passionate. I liked serving him and am deeply distressed at his sudden passing.”
It was the nicest thing anyone had said about her father, and it resonated with her. The honesty in the captain’s face showed her he really meant every word. “Thank you,” Mildred murmured.
She turned back to the chair she’d been sitting in and realised there was no other seat available. Considering the captain’s overt injuries, Mildred stepped aside and gestured for Captain Samqaro to take the seat.
“No, I couldn’t,” he protested.
Mildred indicated the seat more forcefully with her head and hands. “Please. I insist. Your injuries appear severe.” The captain made to deny her request again, but when she added a forceful, “Please, Captain, sit.” He relented.
Silence drew out. Mildred glanced from Mr Megobruli to the captain and back again. She was beginning to get impatient, when the advocate steepled his fingers and looked over the rim of his spectacles at her. “Lady Mildred, the captain is the person responsible for seeing back to safe berth the Starshine, that trading ship belonging to your late father I mentioned a round ago.”
“The one that was attacked by pirates?”
The captain grinned at her wryly. “Yes, one and the same. We were beset and were lucky enough an imperial vessel was close by and able to support us in our time of need. However, the pirate ship with all our goods on it was blown to smithereens in the chase. At least we could get a message sent from the imperial ship after our communications went down.”
Mildred shook her head. Considering the wounds crisscrossing the captain’s face, she didn’t want to think of the casualties this expedition had brought with it. “I—I don’t know what to say—you have sustained severe injuries from this.” Mildred paused, considering how to even make amends.
“Please, Countess,” the captain said, raising a hand as if he could read the thoughts racing through her mind. “We were aware of the dangers before we set out. It was a risk well worth it. If we could have but returned with our goods, the expedition would have been more than a success. As it is, we were paid handsomely up front.”
Relaxing, Mildred allowed a relieved breath to pass between her teeth.
“The thing is,” Mr Megobruli said, nodding towards the captain. “Although most of the goods were stolen, the captain was able to sequester a small chest of rare gemstones, which he brought to me this morning after hearing of the count’s passing.”
“And?” Mildred asked.
“They were sold for a pretty penny, and although much of that has already been used to cover the crew’s medical bills and the docking tax—” He gesticulated with his hands before continuing. “Well, you are left with one hundred and twenty-two thousand nine hundred and eighty imperial notes towards the loan payment.”
“Meaning,” Mildred ventured, her voice quaking, “that with the six hundred odd imperial notes I have at my disposal in my private account, I can pay off the totality of both loans today?”
“Yes, that appears to be the case,” Mr Megobruli said with a smile. “I shall have the papers drawn up, although I believe they will not be ready to sign until tomorrow, Lady Mildred.”
Relief washed over her in a relentless wave. Mildred sagged, and if Kayden hadn’t gripped her elbow, she might have crumpled to the floor. His presence drew her back from the sheer immensity of the moment, although Mildred didn’t think anything in the whole empire could stop relief sparkling tears in her eyes.
“Mildred, are you quite well?”
She laughed through her tears.
“Yes, quite. Thank you, Kayden. I—I feel I might—shatter—or—combust—or something—from sheer happiness.”
* * *
Mildred and Kayden left Mr Megobruli’s office some time later with their arms linked. As they passed into the lighter, more open area of the front entryway, a movement by the seats on the left of the lobby drew Mildred’s eye.
Three figures came to their feet, and Mildred took in the two fine ladies wearing brightly-coloured bustle dresses of shimmering satin. The first deep blue with a cascade of lace around the skirts and a matching feathered hat, and the second an orange waterfall of ruffles and bell sleeves. Rebecca and Sybil simpered, and at a glance, she took in Julien’s stylish black military uniform—so he’d been conscripted in the end, as expected.
Kayden interposed himself between Mildred and her traitorous former friends. He faced her, turning his back on the unexpected company. “I will gladly tell them off and send them away if you want me to,” he said.
“No, Kayden.” She patted his arm and smiled, trying to convey her sincerity. She could manage this altercation after all she’d been through. “I have to do this. You go ahead and call the driver. It shouldn’t take very long, and it is high time I gave them a piece of my mind.”
For a brief moment, Kayden searched her face, as if he were worried about her. When she patted his arm reassuringly, he nodded and headed towards the doorway. Mildred faced the three who’d come right up to her, even though her rank indicated it was for her to decide whether she wished to mingle with them. Etiquette demanded they wait for her to come to them. The breach, after everything they’d said and done, made Mildred’s blood boil.
“Millie,” Rebecca tittered, throwing her arms wide as if expecting a friendly kiss on the cheek.
Mildred glared at her. “In all seriousness, you think you can simply waltz back in here after ditching me the way you did? And, Rebecca, please desist in referring to me that way. I am a countess. The only person permitted to call me that is my mother.”
All three dropped their eyes, and Julian glanced up briefly. She saw a shifty look come into his eye before he turned fully charming.
“I wanted to congratulate you personally, Mildred. What a triumph. If I may say so, all three of us are deeply relieved at this latest turn of events. I even heard you won the favour of the emperor.”
Mildred raised a hand. “No. Spare me your false charm. You had the gall to call me a ‘waste of time’ when I had no money.”
Julien had the decency to drop his gaze—contrite. She stared at him until he gave in and met her gaze. “Well, now, I am no longer available. Thank you for teaching me to appreciate the people who love me for who I am, not for my money or title.”
Julien scoffed, throwing back his head and flicking his fringe cockily. “Oh, so you’re planning to tie yourself to the cripple? I thought you had more sense, Mildred.”
Mildred clenched her hand to stop herself from slapping him. How dare he belittle Kayden? Drawing breath, she considered she finally saw Julien for who he really was.
Squaring her shoulders, she countered, “Kayden stood by me, supported me, showed concern and has tried to even help me where he could—all qualities you sorely lack. Even taking only this into account makes him ten times the man you are. On top of that, he’s a successful businessman in his own right. What do you have to show for yourself? Nothing but idle hands and nefarious schemes. You are able-bodied and could do so much with your life, and yet you belittle others, don’t do a stitch of work, and have the nerve to feel entitled to wealth and fame without even considering the plight of others. You care for nothing and no one but yourself.”
He recoiled but made an effort to look chastised. “Do calm down. I’m sorry I rushed out that day. It was an inconsiderate thing to do. I promise you, I’ve changed. We had a lot of fun before that didn’t we? Be a sport, give me another chance.”
A guffaw escaped Mildred before she could tamp down on her disbelief. Staring him straight in the eye, she added, “No. You had your chance, and you proved exactly what kind of person you are and where your loyalties lie. Coming here with your cocky attitude and no real apology is another proof of your character. Honesty and loyalty are characteristics I care for, and although I understand that you are who you are, I also know you have great potential, which you could embrace if you applied yourself.”
Julien grimaced, leading Mildred to continue. “And there we have it. You have no intention of doing anything of the sort. What scheme did you have in mind? Were you going to cosy up to me, try to get me to marry you, and run off with my annual revenues? Was that your plan?”
Julien stared at her wide-eyed, his mouth opening and shutting several times before Mildred went on. “I shall focus my energies on the things I consider most important, those which bring me joy and allow me to do some good. I know you’ve held me back with your negativity and snide remarks, and I shall not allow your opinions and attitudes, which go against what I believe, to stop me from doing what I can and love doing. Nor will you prevail upon me to choose my friends based on your will. I shall henceforth choose whom to spend my time with based on the character they show, nothing else.”
“This is quite unlike you, Mildred,” Julien sniffed. “Spending your time with riff-raff like that—” He tilted his head towards the door Kayden had stepped out of moments before. “It’s—well, it’s made you into an insufferable she-dog.” He threw up his hands with a huff and pouted, puffing out his rounded babyface even more than it did naturally.
Julien’s nastiness chafed at Mildred. How hadn’t she seen the sheer spite in his nature? Before, she’d always thought him endearing, if a little ungracious, but now his downright arrogant and disrespectful behaviour was glaring. The realisation sent her mind into a torrent of all the horrid things he’d said about other people, things she’d never called him out for saying. Well, she’d show him how much she had changed in the past twenty days. She would not tolerate such abuse.
“That will do, Julien, although I believe we’ve reached the point where I shall address you as Lord Rutherford. Once again, you’ve proven your unsuitability. I have made my choice and it doesn’t align with your vision; be that as it may, you have no sway over the matter. It is my choice, governing my life. Considering your desires are out of alignment with mine, we would never have made an even remotely happy marriage. After the bitterness I have witnessed in another, an unhappy marriage is something I would never wish on anyone.”
She swallowed. It had taken all her strength to remain civil and hold onto her kindness despite Julien’s abysmal behaviour. Considering the familiarity with which he spoke to her, she added, “And I believe it will be for the best if you address me as Countess of Magnoliis or Lady Mildred from now on. Although it has been instructive to have been a close acquaintance of yours, I do not feel we have much to offer each other at this time, and I would like to bid you good day, Lord Rutherford.”
Julien gaped at her, and Mildred noticed Rebecca and Sybil motioning to each other to leave. With their puffed-up skirts, they looked like sad, rejected peacocks, their long tails dragging behind them. She wasn’t going to let them off the hook so easily, and giving Julien the cold shoulder, Mildred addressed her former friends.
“Rebecca, I have no idea how you found out about me being here today, but I suggest you put your ability to ascertain almost anything to better use. The day you abandoned me to despair—”
Rebecca took a step towards Mildred, looking up with her eyes wide and beseeching. “Mildred, I’m sorry. I realise I shouldn’t have done that, but—”
“No. You made your choice and that betrayal hurt. It cut deep. Our paths have diverged, and it seems right they should do so. We do not appear to bring out the best in each other, and I firmly believe that is the ultimate sense in having friendships.”
Sybil stepped up beside Rebecca and Mildred could see her former friend wanting to come to Rebecca’s defence. Although she wished to cut her off, Mildred let Sybil speak.
“Mildred, you must understand. There wasn’t anything we could have done.”
Frowning, Mildred scoffed, “But of course there was. You could have simply provided support with your presence. Visited me, tried to cheer me up—”
The memory of their retreating figures as she stepped up to the stage at the APMC meeting surged in her mind. “Stay at the APMC meeting when I spoke at the express request of the association’s chairman.”
“What good would that do? Besides, you managed just fine on your own.”
“Only because I was given no other choice. I would have preferred to have the support of those I counted among my friends. Also, I didn’t manage on my own. I almost failed. Without Kayden, I would have crumbled into despair on the first day.”
Taking a moment to glare at them, Mildred took a shuddering breath. “It was a mere chance I happened to get to know someone who knew the Imperial Curator and found out about the new grant for the acquisition of a property near The Capital.” Mildred paused, suddenly struck by a realisation. Turning to Rebecca, she added, “Your family is also acquainted with the Imperial Curator, are they not?”
The white feather in the fine blue hat bobbed when Rebecca nodded. Mildred sighed. “So you could, in fact, have helped me if you’d been so inclined. With your knack for ascertaining information, you could have found out about the Curator’s new grant and you could have thought about how perfect Thornwicket Manor would have been for the emperor’s purposes.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re being this way, Mildred,” Sybil pouted.
Mildred raised her hand. “This is where our life paths diverge. Do not darken my doorway again, unless it is for an entirely selfless reason that does not benefit you or your family in any way, especially not financially or socially. When you’ve learned to be truly benevolent, I might reconsider the matter.”
Rebecca lifted her hands imploringly. “But Millie, you were going to the poorhouse. How could you expect me to risk losing my position?”
“Spare me your excuses,” Mildred shook her head. “I know you well enough and no good comes of being petulant. Goodbye, Lady Gordon. Lady Rowe.” Mildred dipped her head to each, adding a third to Julien. “Lord Rutherford.”
With that, she glided outside into the brilliant day hinting at the promise of early summer: cloudless cerulean skies and the perfect warmth, not too hot but just right for a picnic somewhere on Thornwicket estate. Her heart was light. She had a few more loose ends to tie up, but even the situation with the remaining staff looked bright and rosy. She and her mother would need to keep the cook, the ladies’ maid, and Harold, the footman. Mildred would be able to focus much of her energy on the APMC and the situation of the threats made. This was what she wanted.
Walking away from her three former friends made Mildred feel how much weight she’d carried around with their inconsiderate attitudes and scheming thoughts.
Her movements were light as she flew down the three steps. Her being became more buoyant at the sight of Kayden watching her approach. Even with the second shadow cast by his newly-appointed bodyguard, there was no doubt in her mind, this was the best day of her life. She raised her appreciation to the heavens. Alone, Mildred could not have achieved such perfection, but the Dragons? It seemed they most definitely could.
“What are you thinking?” Kayden stepped up to her, pulling her into his embrace.
Grasping him by the shoulders, Mildred withdrew a little as she replied, “I was thinking what perfection this day has brought. Not only have all my heavy cares winged away on a miracle, but I’ve also stood up for what is right and spoken out against things I dislike. I feel light, like I could soar into that dragon-blessed sky.”
“Ah, so you believe in the Dragons now?”
Kayden’s eyes twinkled, and she knew he was teasing her, but Mildred didn’t mind. “I realise my folly in believing that I have control. I cannot control what others think and say, but I can choose how I respond to them. It is up to me to decide what I shall allow and what not. Those three might, one day, become nice people. I sincerely hope they do, but for now, all they do is hurt me, and I don’t need that. I suppose it was another gift of the Dragons to bring them to me so I could resolve that too.”
She paused, glancing heavenward again. “I could never have come up with the resolution that has presented itself. Of course, I worked towards it. If I hadn’t sent for the evaluator, we wouldn’t have had that information on hand when the Curator came. If I hadn’t been to the APMC meeting, I wouldn’t have met Leandre and he couldn’t have made the connection with the Curator if I hadn’t shared at least part of what the problem was. It’s all interconnected.”
Kayden nodded. “It certainly seems so. And, of course, we cannot forget that if the emperor didn’t love fine wine as much as he does—”
Mildred laughed, but in a heartbeat she remembered the other coincidence and it came with a sobering thought. “But when all is said and done, the most uncanny of all the little miracles, is that the very thing which caused my father’s downfall became my dragon-sent deliverance.”
Kayden raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side. Mildred smiled sadly when she said, “The news about the pirate attack brought on my father’s seizure, but it was the self-same ship that had the gemstones to make the difference today. The Dragons’ Dance is not something I can begin to fathom, but somehow their weave is true and I’ve learned I can trust in that.”