Siege and Precip

Chapter 1 "Your hands are filthy"

"Why isn't this lady Cornwallis? What are you doing in such cold weather?" A voice with high-pitched mockery trailed behind Seline Cornwallis. As the owner of the voice approached, sounds of a dangling bell followed along as with the sickenly sweet perfume that she should abandoned years ago.

Seline Cornwallis didn't turn around, she did not wish to waste any time on this concubine that has lost her uncle's interest years ago. "As you can see, my lady," She brushed the broom against the snow faintly. "Sweeping up the snow."

"Why? How can we let you, our precious little lady to do such works that are only be done by servants? What would your father say if he sees you? How heart breaking would your mother be if she knows you are doing such..." She kicked the snow that Seline difficultly sweep to one side, the snow broke into small counter parts once again, falling back to their original position. "lowly work?" She beamed wickedly to Seline.

"Uncle was working so hard for the empire and emperor himself, what position am I in to bother him with such tiny things? Mother still need to take care of my younger brother, how unfilial am I to alarm her with such tiny, tiny things?" Seline lowered her head and answered quietly. Her voice calm and soft, with no hint of mad or fury of her whole day of work ruined in a spilt second, with no humiliation that this disfavored woman who just compared her to servants, and with no single hint of emotion at all, as if she was born this way.

"Aunt Ferella, why are you out here today?" Seline humbly moved to the side, intentionally skipping the word "fifth" in front of the aunt, casually omitting her identity as a concubine.

"Oh...Your father is hosting a party and I am just wondering if I am needed to serve anybody..." Aunt Ferella beamed, extremely pleased that Seline humbly treat her as her aunt, wife to her uncle. She toyed with the tacky pearl ear ring on her left ear lobe and smiled.

Seline's head remained down, as far as she knows, Ironbridge's men love to share concubines, sometimes even their wives. Conveniently, her uncle's house kept a lot of concubines and maids uncle bedded from time to time. Since Aunt Ferella was still... comparatively young, why not wander around the garden in such lovely occasion, find another 'husband', paddle alongside with a rich man like his poodle, and hopefully, win his love.

Just that Seline was not sure who was that extremely miserable man to be picked and extremely stupidly fell into her façade.

"This place is extremely slippery and wet, would aunt Ferella want me to help you?" Seline reached out her hand to aunt Ferella, attempting to give her a hand in this cold weather. "Don't! Your hands are filthy." Aunt Ferella slapped away her hand, Seline's fingers were still covered with snow. With a unmasked disgusted expression, she stepped away from Seline further.

Seline shrugged and beamed casually, not bothered by aunt Ferella's disgust.

"You are fifteen, Seline. You can't hide in this backyard forever." She eyed the small backyard from left to right, and put up a sickenly large and phony smile "Son of our housekeeper, Gerald is not a bad choice. I will talk to your mother one day and arrange marriage for you two."

Indeed not a bad choice, he has studied literature for five years and could yet not identified the difference between personification and metaphor.

Seline's smile never dropped, her smile turned even softer and beautiful, if it was not for her sickenly yellow skin color, her eyes would have been as bright as stars in a lonely night, beaming to her from a thousand mile away.

Aunt Ferella paused, this little brat, no wonder people says she looked just like...

That thought paused and she sniffed arrogantly. She has talked too much to this little useless brat, if it wasn't because of young prince Marceau's date, she wouldn't be talking to this brat. Prince Marceau, her heart drummed loudly as she thought of his beauty. "Beauty" is not a common word to describe a man, but it fit perfectly for prince Marceau. His face was the masterpiece of God as if he crafted it all by himself. Gods above, her face flushed red, if he was willing to take her hand...

Butterflies fled in her whole body, and with a hum, she turned and leave this rotten backyard. Perhaps it was because the thought of prince Marceau, aunt ferella stepped on a small pebble on cold ice, her body arched backward, with a shocked gasp, aunt ferella wanted to grab the broom out of her instinct. But Seline was faster, she pushed the broom away abruptly, and poor aunt ferella fell down on the cold ice. And thanks to the gravity, she slipped all the way to the cold water.

"Help! Help me!" Aunt Ferella screamed helplessly, she started to drink some ice cold water and panic hit her.

Seline glanced at the frightened woman, she approached her, moving toward her, and stared at her body.

Up above, aunt ferella saw Seline reached out her hand. She swam, splashing water, intended to move to Seline. But just when she was about to touch Seline's hand, Seline withdrew away and smiled gently "Ah...can't...My hands are filthy."

Aunt ferella's eyes revealed desperation, she finally noticed this young girl was not that gentle and humble after all. Hatred ran across her brown eyes as she gave up on Seline and swam to another side.

Step by step, Seline followed her with a broom in her hand. She squatted boringly beside the other shore that aunt Ferella intended to climb up to, toying with the broom in her hand. Nobody ever comes to this quiet backyard, not even her mother or brother, Aunt Ferella indeed lost her mind to step a feet into this abandoned land.

That crazy woman swam over, quivering fingers trying to reach the shore, but Seline pushed her away with the broom gently as if the scythe belonging to the grim reaper.

This push, for her mother.

That year when her mother brought back she and her brother, and knelt before the house of Cornwallis for three days and three nights, lovely aunt ferella greeted them with a bucket of filthy water she just used to wash her feet.

Seline saw how the filthy water dripped from her mother's hair and formed into ice in that cold winter. That winter, was even colder than today, she thought silently. And staring at the similar ice formed along aunt ferella's hair, seline had a sadistic sense of victory.

Aunt Ferella tried to reach over once more, but this time, she was slower. Her finger reached out, trying to get a hold of a boulder. Seline smiled and pushed once again.

This push, for herself.

That housekeeper was a relative of aunt ferella. Since she was ten, that housekeeper's eyes have never left hers, at first, he wanted her as his next wife. It was only after his request was rejected by uncle so he started to ask for Seline's hand in marriage to his stupid son. Even a blind man could tell, his intention was to share Seline with his son. Thanks to her mother, this request was also rejected.

But

It was only a few days ago, when aunt ferella and that housekeeper locked her in the quiet left backyard belonged to aunt ferella. If Seline hadn't kept a blade with her wherever she goes, she would be forced to marry that stupid son of his or expelled by her uncle because of her loss of virginity.

Aunt Ferella gritted her teeth. This crazy little brat. She swam once more, but this time, instead of going after the boulder or the shore, she went for the broom and dragged Seline all the way to the cold water.

Seline was caught off guard and fell to the cold water. Coldness surrounded her immediately, and an equally cold hand grabbed her hair, pulling her scalp to a face that her owner has lost her mind. Aunt Ferella pulled her deeper to the cold water, her once warm brown eyes lost their brightness, they only revealed the dim lights of death itself. Seline smiled gently, as she pulled out the blade and pierced through her body.

Once, twice, thrice.

She grinned and watched as blood diffuse out from aunt ferella's body, warming herself, soothing the cold with her blood. Finally, aunt ferella's grip loosen and with a strong treadon aunt ferella's chest, Seline plunged above the surface, soothing herself in the cold water. Being in the cold water is not lethal, but the fear and the useless splashes you made out of nervousness, that's what kill you. She took in a few deep breathes and swam toward the shore. She reached out, trying to grab the nearest boulder, but a lean man stepped just adjacent to that boulder.

Seline's heart skipped a beat as she looked up.

Prince Marceau.