The front door of Bethel's two-story office building slammed shut behind her, the sound loud enough to vibrate the windows. She leaned against the wood, gasping for breath, the stale dust and perfume of Grem still clinging to her cloak.
Before she could fully process her recent experience, the door to the second floor flew open. Lydia stood there, a thick woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her face drawn tight with worry.
"Bethel! What happened? You were gone longer than usual!" Lydia stopped short, her gaze raking over Bethel's disheveled state.
Bethel pushed off the door, her adrenaline still coursing. "I'm fine," she clipped out. "Better than fine. I have a lead."
She pulled the hood back, running a hand through her hair.
"A lead? What kind of lead?" Lydia rushed forward, her hands hovering, unsure whether to hug Bethel or search her for wounds.
"Fustian," Bethel said, discarding the heavy cloak onto a chair. "She was asking at the Silk & Wool group's stall yesterday. They told her to come back in three days." She immediately moved into her office, pulling out the parchment she had written on, adding the new lead underneath Josephine's name.
Lydia frowned, confusion replacing her immediate worry. "Fustian? That's heavy cotton, good for work wear and trousers. Did she perhaps need it to make clothing for her husband?"
"Probably. I will see her the day after tomorrow." She answered Lydia.
Bethel stopped, her finger hovering over the parchment. As of now, she still didn't know the state of Josephine's marriage. What she was attempting to do would be no different than disturbing the life Josephine chose.
A woman seeking safety from the very person she married—where acceptance and rationality fight in her mind until one side becomes victorious.
"I can speculate or start preparing the paperwork. The latter would be a better use of my time."
Lydia took the dust-covered cloak. "How did you come across a lead? It is quite late, and fewer people are wandering around."
Her maid's question caused her mind to drift, unbidden, back to the massive, silent man who had given her this lead: his imposing well-built frame, the curtain of wild, untamed curls, and his gray eyes—glimpsed only faintly through the strands. Of course, he lost a few brownie points after putting her to work.
'Information is never free,' she conceded, 'but he made the exchange seem perfectly reasonable.' A fair deal from a man who'd just had his pay docked. The universe is probably going to drop a tree on her head tomorrow for this kind of luck.
"I met a fair man. He helped me a lot, and didn't look down at me for my profession." She told Lydia with a rare smile not easily found when Bethel talks about a stranger.
Lydia was surprised at what she was seeing on her lady's face. 'My... what do we have here?' She snuck a little closer.
"What?" Bethel felt Lydia's eyes were fixed on her expression, making her take a step away, trying to gauge what was inside her maid's head at the moment.
"That's... great!" Bethel didn't miss the slight hesitation in Lydia's words. "It's incredible that there's someone around aside from me and Madam Elara. It's been too long since you made a new friend. Your siblings would be dumping questions right now, if they were here." The sparkle in Lydia's eyes was unmistakable.
Good grief—whose fault is it that Lydia is so curious! The answer came instantly from the back of her mind: The pot calling the kettle black, Bethel.
Touching her single earring, "Well, it's good that you're here instead of them!" She deflected Lydia's intention by feigning ignorance of what she was hinting at. Bethel didn't see the need to talk about Rupert as of yet to Lydia.
She wasn't completely sure that she would seek him out. Even bumping into him would be a coincidence. His breath against her ear and his hand wiping dust of her knees. Bethel wasn't used to man, even tho she has brothers that would do some things similarly. Rupert was very much still an stranger that shortly became an acquaintance in extremely little time.
"There's no need to talk about him. I believe I already caused him enough trouble already," Bethel dismissed, turning fully toward her desk. She began rolling up the parchment, getting ready to call it a night.
No matter how much Lydia looked up at her with pleading eyes, Bethel refused to meet her gaze.
Lydia sighed, not wanting to dring down her lady good mood. She folded the heavy cloak over her arm, following Bethel to the desk. "You say you caused him trouble, but look at you, Bethel, You came back alive, with a vital lead!"
Pointing out what Bethel had accomplished after failed attempts in finding Josephine. "The man is a good omen, if nothing else. You needed a breakthrough, and he provided it."
Lydia leaned against the edge of the desk, keeping her voice soft. "So what's next my lady?"
Glad that Lydia decided to drop learning about Rupert for now. "I'm a bit exhausted so I would like to turn in for the night. I intend to meet Josephine before going forward."
"Yes my lady, I won't disturb your desire sleep any longer. Have sweet dreams" Lydia exited the office taking the heavy cloak with her.
Bethel moved towards a drawer and pulled out a small notepad. 'I should write down what those two talked about. It might be something important for later.'
Scribbling down the words she remembered. Lunar Icestone, Lord Ramsey, High Priestess's agent, five new moons till deadline is met. 'He mentioned the second one has passed already leaving two months left. Give or take, their deadline will fall during the summer season.'
She didn't know what Lunar Icestone were used for? Nor why the High Priestess is sending an agent to acquire them? 'I never heard about Lunar Icestones before. Were they a recent discovery while my mind was muddled with?'
Bethel tried to remember as hard as she could. Yet nothing floats towards the surface, just the memory of seating on a chair for hours. Not moving an inch as someone else in an office look over documents. They would occasionally glance at her and smile, she could only remember feeling nothing at that moment. Absolutely nothing.
She started drawing the signet ring Lord Ramsey was wearing. It was of a bird with its wings spread out as its talons wide at the ready. Prepared to seize its prey. Bethel didn't recognize which house it belong to. There were plenty of noble families that has birds in their family crest. Even merchants use a bird symbol in their business branding.
'I would be better off looking into this tomorrow after some rest.' Stuffing the notepad back within the drawer. She returned to her room, removed her clothes that needed to be cleaned.
Lydia having left a pitcher filled with hot water that has since cooled down to reasonable temperatures. Bethel poured the water into her washbasin.
As she washed, she felt the phantom sting of her knees where Rupert's hand had briefly touched her. Unnecessary things, she chided herself.
She pulled on a thick nightgown, the wool scratchy but comforting. She moved to the window, pulling aside the curtain. Below, the streets were settling into its late-night rhythm: the clatter of a closing shutter, a distant, muffled song from a late tavern, the sound of a lone man walking the cobblestones.
She stood there, feeling the cold glass against her forehead, acknowledging a possibility. That's she is likely closer to her goal than when she first stepped foot on these lands.
'Getting here was the hard part, afterwards is a road of unpredictable threats.' She sincerity hoped, where ever Josephine is. The person she married haven't escalated into dangerous territory.
While Bethel pulled the covers over her body. Letting herself relax, eye lids grew heavier the deeper she sink into the bedding.
Another person stirred themselves awake, feeling their uncloth body chilled. They reached the space beside them, sounds of clanking metal accompanied their movement. It lacks warmth... meaning they were left in this position without a blanket to cover them.
'Thomas...' She slowly, painstakingly, lifted her head. Josephine woke up in the middle of the night. Small bruise form along her waistline, her husband grabbed her lower half with more force as of late. Each thrust of his slapped into her, relentlessly plunging inside without care.
Weakly setting her legs over the bed edge. Sucking in a hiss of pain she felt as her body moved into a seating position. 'It hurts again...' using the blanket that had been on the floor this whole time to wrap her cold body in.
Picking up a key to the metal shackles to undo it locked state. Josephine stared down within the darkness of her room. Even while they couldn't be seen, they were still there. Laying before her feet waiting to be used again. And again and again.
Josephine didn't bother cleaning herself this time. Making the long and slow journey to their kitchen. Opening a cabinet for an untouched bread loaf she has purchased yesterday.
'Lately... I don't have much of an appetite. It been that way for a few weeks now... I could still eat some food. That should be a good sign right?' She thought as her fingers ripped off a piece of bread. While it's outsides were hard to the touch, it insides still retain a bit of fresh chew.
She placed the bread in her mouth. The sheer effort of chewing was exhausting, yet the dull, steady presence of the food offered a distraction from the constant pain.