Last Rank

Chapter 6

- Elly -

Trembling in uncertainty Elly stood in front of the door to the Count's rooms. Ricarda eyed her curiously with pursed lips and Elly could only imagine how much worse the gossip about her was going to be.

But it did not matter much anymore. Elly had made up her mind. She would not wait around anymore for things to happen as others pleased. She would not ask her father for permissions anymore. He had clearly proven to her that he did not know better. That he did not care about her wellbeing, only about money and alcohol.

She did not want to stay in Burgate anymore, so she would leave it, as simple as that.

Behind the wooden door Elly heard muffled voices speaking, one must have been the Count and the other his personal servant, but judging the tone of the conversation it was not a good time to ask favours.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to knock anyway.

"What business?" asked the servant through the door.

"This is Elizabeth Glassner. I-I am here to speak to the Count, if I may," Elly stuttered.

Instantly the door flew open and at her stared the black-haired man with an eery grin. "Please do come in," he said and eagerly gestured her inside.

Elly was entirely put off by the expression on his face. The smile looked more like a wild beast blaring its teeth right before an attack. And so did his posture. She had thought his way to walk odd before, but right there it looked plain inhuman. A shudder ran down her spine.

"What do you need?" the Count asked.

Elly swallowed down the sensation of threat and focused on him, trying to remember her determination. But looking at him was even worse. He looked angry. Very, very angry.

"I am sorry to bother you at an inconvenient time, but I heard you would leave today in the afternoon," Elly said.

"So?" the Count snapped. He stood intimidatingly tall, arms crossed over his chest, chin raised high. His eyes were ice, cold and unforgiving.

Elly took another deep breath. "Please take me along to Castermere."

"No," the Count answered without even thinking about it.

"I would work my fare. I can clean and cook and –"

"As expected of a maid. But I do not need another servant, otherwise I would have employed one already."

"Please, my Lord. I do not wish to stay in town after ... ..." Elly could not speak the words. She did not know how to phrase them appropriately. And just thinking about them had her heart in turmoil.

"And I wish you would stop involving me in your affairs," the Count snapped.

Elly stood frozen. Heat rushed to her cheeks and her heart dropped. "You cannot mean to think I claimed such indecency myself," she mumbled to the floor at her feet.

When she dared glimpse up again, some softness returned to the Count's face and voice. "I do not. And for what it's worth, I think it was a wise choice not to marry yourself to that fool of a man."

An ache took hold of Elly's heart with the relief, that at least someone did not think her mad. That at least one person knew the truth and stood on her side. She could have cried on the spot.

"Nevertheless, I do not want to involve myself with you any further. Please leave now," the Count said.

The harsh words cut deep. Deeper than Elly would have expected, even if she didn't really know what exactly she had expected. To be miraculously saved by a stranger she'd had about two proper conversations with?