Wicked Chase

♚ Chapter Fourteen

[dedicated to Anne, for always being an amazing friend]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It had been two days since my meeting with my father. I had basically told him that he was a disgrace, to my mother and I, and that seeing his face again certainly wouldn't sit well with me. A part of me was guilty. After Bronia had showed me the way back to my room I told her to come back in the evening because I was still uncertain about everything in my room and while I had insisted against having a maid, I was so thankful that I had her. I had cried. I cried hot tears of rage and I had cried hot tears of sorrow. I had broken down the instant Bronia left and I locked the door, silently thanking Bronia for leaving the key on the door, and collapsed, crying harder when I thought of my mother who was no more around and of my father who was the cause of her death.

It was only a few hours after I had cried my heart out did I let Bronia back into the room to help me with the arrangements for the night. She had told me that she would love to prepare me a hot bath and even when I insisted against it, she did it anyway. When I lay in bed that night, in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt which Bronia thought was not a proper nightwear, I thought about my father.

I was wrong to lash out on him. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop the angry words spilling out of my mouth. I hadn't really meant any of them but with the tone and conviction that I spoke those accusing words to Ronan, it seemed like I meant every word of it and Ronan didn't know me one bit so he must have believed them. He was my father, yes, but he was a stranger, too.

Now I was sitting on the bed and watching Bronia lay my breakfast on the wooden table that was finely made and looked extravagant with the six chairs that surrounded the rectangular shaped masterpiece. Every time I looked about the room I felt weird. I felt pampered, too. I wasn't used to this lifestyle. I wasn't used to having people doing mere chores for me, I wasn't used to having people pick my dresses or customise them to however I liked. It certainly didn't help that Bronia insisted that helping me - doing all this, all that I could do by myself - was part of her duty. It was what being a maid of the Princess of Deidrif meant and if she did not fulfil her duties then of what use was she? Those were her words, never would they be mine. So I had given up and let her do what she was best at, what she apparently liked to do.

There was a knock on the door when I was wondering why she was setting up a table for two when she had always set up a table for one. I almost jumped out of bed, startled. No one had seen me these past two days and I hadn't left my room. I wanted to explore the castle, this place that I now had to call home but was far from feeling it, but I didn't know my way around and I could have always asked Bronia to help me and show me the castle but a small part of me still felt bothered that I was letting her help me, letting her pamper me, so I had chosen to be silent and spend time looking out of the window in my room - the view of the city that met my eyes never ceased to amaze me, it was beautiful and extraordinary - and thinking about my life, my mother, my father, Alastair and when everything started to go wrong, when everything started to get complicated.

Bronia seemed surprised by the knock, too, but quickly recovered and turned her head towards me. "Shall I open the door?"

"Of course," I replied with a nod, a little eager to know who even bothered to see me. A part of me hoped it was Alastair because I hadn't had the chance to see him these past two days and when Bronia opened the door and welcomed the visitor I couldn't stop the grin from taking over my lips as I jumped off the bed in a hurry and rushed towards the door as I tried my best not to look too happy to see him.

"Alastair!" I exclaimed and before I could do anything stupid like throw my hands around his neck, I took a step back and tried my best to quell the sudden excitement that erupted within me. Truth was, looking out the window had become a bore. Yes, I hadn't ever seen a sight more magnificent with my own bare eyes than that but it had become boring, staring out into the city that didn't have any drastic changes - just people bustling across the streets, the markets in a buzz and ladies and men either fighting or chortling with laughter. And I didn't like thinking much of all this, my drastically changed life, because it was slightly depressing - it made me an emotional wreck.