The Transcended: They call him Lucius

Epilogue

May 2021

~*~

Zoey sat in her wheelchair, dressed in an elegant black dress with grey accents that flowed over her stumps. The sun shone on her face and she relished the warmth, much like she had done years ago when she had attempted to escape. With a smile, she stared out through the big window into the garden of the Westwood estate.

What used to be quite boring bushes and grass was now a field of wildflowers. A marble statue of an ancient Goddess rose out of the sea of colours. The naked woman stood tall, her arms bent with palms towards the sky. A small smile graced her lips and a headdress of horns joined at the tips framed her braids while a feathery cloak draped around her shoulders, spreading out like wings that reached her thighs.

"Ma'am," came Rory's kind voice from behind her, "the guests have arrived and are awaiting your presence in the foyer."

Zoey turned the chair around and smiled at her equally elegant dressed butler. "I'll be right there."

Rory nodded and disappeared from view.

With a sigh, Zoey gave the garden one last glance. Vases with wildflowers picked earlier that day filled the air with their lovely scent—and she relished the feeling of how she had transformed the mansion, had made it hers, even eliminating the smell of Lucius. This is my home now. A sly smile tugged at her lips and she turned around.

Her gaze went across the light-purple walls on which the morning sun would cast rainbows through the stained glass which she had decided to keep. There were no colour spectacles now, for it was high-noon, but the abstract art that decorated the walls was just as pretty to look at.

She rolled through the hall and passed the conservatory—which was alive with dozens of hanging strawberry plants, some in bloom and some already bearing fruit. The mere thought of their sweetness once ripened made her lick her lips. We should get some fruit trees as well. She made a mental note to talk to Rory about that later.

As she continued to the foyer an ornate mirror on the wall up ahead grabbed her attention and she went to check herself. Lucius hadn't kept any mirrors—at least, not within her sight—so she had ensured multiple were added to the new interior. She looked at her reflection. The obsidian glass eye she had inserted for the occasion bared a silver eight-pointed star of Ishtar and she suppressed a snigger.

Yes, the elite will love this shite for sure.

She adjusted the choker around her neck, ran a hand through her blonde locks, and straightened herself.

Time to play the role of Miss Westwood.

The chatter of guests became louder as she approached the luxurious foyer. She slid the door open and rolled inside. The men and women were all well-dressed, with the men sporting expensive tuxedos and the women even more expensive jewellery.

She despised them all already—but she didn't let it show.

With a smile, she stated, "Good afternoon, everybody. Sorry to have kept you waiting." She glanced at Rory. "I hope my butler was able to cater to your needs."

There was a slight buzz of agreements, but one person said loud enough for her to hear, "You're wise to get yourself a decent servant. Sir Westwood always declined help."

"With exception of the rites last time," a man interjected, and Zoey immediately recognised him as Jonathan. He turned to her. "Was she related? You remind me of her, if I may say so."

Zoey put on a smile. "Yes, Bobbi was my late sister. She perished in the same accident as Andrew."

"You didn't waste any time redecorating," a woman said whilst glancing at the décor. "Though I have to admit, I like what you've done to the place." She gave Zoey a smug smile.