We are all blinded by the ways of darkness,
forgetting its source.
~Unknown
***
Many weeks passed in Ashleigh and so did they in Cartwild as usual. Just as the leaf changes color, the season also does. It was winter already, snow tainting the lands and roofs of cottages and manors, and castles. While the rich wore and discarded fancied coats of worth to purchase finer ones for balls or soirees, the less privileged made use of what they could afford to prevent the wrath of the season.
Ravenna walked along the street, and into the capital dressed in her usual white gown tucked beneath her brown skirt, however, protected by a worn-out coat made out of fur and skin. The cap was furry, hiding her silver hair behind and revealing a few strands whisking her face concurrently whenever the wind bellowed. She pressed her palms against one another, the gloves protecting her fingers from the earth as mist escaped her nostrils and mouth.
She wiped her numb fingers over her eyes, brushing away the flakes clinging to her lashes as the icy snow crunched under her fraying boot. The capital as usual, was lively with newer commodities and fresher stocks to distribute, buy, and sell but winter was mostly the hardest time of all, especially for the lower class.
As she walked by, she came across a woman sitting beside the street with a bowl at her feet. A beggar. Her face was pale, almost as white as the snow as she shivered from the cold. It was either for the fact that she had no ounce of strength in her to beg for money or the cold seized her voice.
Her unbound hair was tied into a rough bun, scars and dirt smudged all over her face and her lips chapped from the weather as she stared beyond the wall. It would only take a single second to realize she was also blind and Ravenna's face fell in pity.
Searching her cloak, she walked towards the woman, reaching for the copper in her pocket. She was going to make use of it to get a new pair of boots for herself, since the ones she wore had only a limited amount of time before they fully declined. It was covered in so many patches, that her feet were already numb from the cold, the tear capable enough to weigh a stream, however, looking at the woman, that was more than enough reason to sacrifice an item for food.
Just as she dropped the copper in the bowl and turned to leave, "Take your sullen money away from my bowl, you whore,"
In a beat, Ravenna's heart stopped before hammering wildly against her chest when she heard her say. Just like a needle pierced deep into her, she thought she heard it all wrong when the woman spoke again.
"I would rather starve than accept filth from the unholy spreading her legs for the entire continent. Have you no shame to hold the filth of a thief and a whore at the same time?" The disgust in her tone vanished the last shred of uncertainty in her when she turned, meeting face to face with the woman who looked like she had seen her worst nemesis standing right before her.
It was powerful enough to numb her senses as she stared in disbelief. There were times people gossiped the rumors that she committed filth whenever she returned with a pair of new clothes or a new pair of shoes. Sometimes, the rumors were considered as of jealousy, especially when Ravenna was better looking than some of them, and possessed a rare hair color of hair earning her the title of the Cursed.
Fallen House Vale had long been considered the Traitor's Manor, her parents the Usurper, when they betrayed Vladoryn by allying with Witches. Due to her parents' discretion, the Vales were just a family of four where the others had been swallowed by flames sparing just her to bear the weight of their sins. Considering how tough things had been before, Ravenna stole from the castle, attaining the title 'thief' however, the prestige built on whore has always been in the very shadows. Looking at the woman before her, glaring into nothingness, felt like her secret had been exposed. There was something about the way she referred to her, and whatever it was frightened her to the core. That feeling of being exposed after years of disguise.
Gulping the lump down her throat, she walked towards the woman and retrieved her copper from the bowl. Daring to look at her one more time, it was filled with so much disgust and irritation that heavied on her heart. Never did she regret her decision on cajoling that path but looking alone made her question herself, realizing that expression was better deserved than to cuss. She wondered how Alaric would react if he eventually learns of this truth.
The thought of it sent shivers down her spine as she walked away, looking back one last time to the woman stiff in cold and whispers of disgust.
Several guards paraded and patrolled, monitoring the activities of the citizens, a daily routine to prevent any form of attacks. There was no news about the frequent rise in the rate of Witches existing as humans in the face of Vladoryn, prompting the Generals and other council members, to equip the use of Holy Water and Salt to capture them. Apart from that, the new elixir called the Witches' Bane was discovered and evolved, making the arrest of these unholy creatures far easier by touching or poisoning them. Other than that, Mages were existing and the last she heard of was over four years ago.
As she walked into the castle, shedding her gloves before the coat at one corner of the western wing, she wore an apron, grabbed a bucket of water and a rag to begin the dreadful journey of the morning.
She squatted, scrubbing the floors just before her gaze fell on the unopened chamber guarded by two usual manservants and their unsmiling faces greeted her every morning. Ever since she was assigned to Prince Edmund's wing, she did no more than cleaning and replacing, hardly catching a glimpse of his presence. However, when she did, it was either a curt nod, or a look that caught her breath.
Ever since he rescued her from the claws and claims of Princess Sophia and Lady Alethea, she never got the chance to thank him. Or rather, he never gave her the chance to.
Once or twice, she'll attempt to cross his path intentionally to get an opportunity to show her gratitude but it seemed he noticed yet ignored. And at the end, Ravenna knew it was the best. He initially saved her, assigned her to his wing, and provided less hectic duty she could handle. Talking to him would only conclude the alleged romance between them and the last thing she wanted was the face of the Queen or the King.
The castle was a bit noisier than usual when she finalized her duty, now walking into the eastern wing and into the Kitchen. Hopefully, she met Brynhild who smiled warmly at her presence but faded at once when Madame Ruby demanded her.
With an apologetic look, Ravenna smiled, waving at her as a sign to go. The last thing she wanted was her friend used as a scapegoat for any severe punishment. Grabbing a cup of water, she absorbed it, easing her parched throat before walking away.
However, on her way out, she caught a glimpse of servants maneuvering their way to and fro, enough to tell Ravenna there was something unusual about today. Was there an occasion happening today?
As if to answer her question, she stopped by when a few hushed voices attracted her, and she leaned against the wall, shrouding herself away from the servants. "-married soon. Eventually, Princess Sophia will come up later,"
Married? Ravenna thought. Is there a marriage happening in the castle soon?
A brown-haired elicit a false pity when she spoke, "Oh, poor Princess. I thought she was to wed Lord Richard of Vexmoor next month? It has been the talk of the Kingdom and the castle has been in preparation. How unfortunate she's to wed another by the break of dawn someday,"
There was only one person who was supposed to wed next month and it was no other than Princess Olenna to Lord Richard of Vexmoor by politics. Unfortunately, the union was supposed to commence earlier but it was placed on hold, for a reason unknown to her, however, the recent preparation was the source of every mouth. It has been the talk of the town and the entire Kingdom of Vladoryn, which confused her when they made mention of wedding another.
Was the wedding canceled? And the Princess was going to wed another and not Lord Richard?
"I heard it's by midnight," Someone corrected, her voice slowly giving way to a whisper such that Ravenna had to strain her eyes to get a better understanding. "... ack Crowhurst of Winterfell. I haven't seen him before nor have I heard of his reign which makes it anonymous dreadful." There was a beat of silence before she continued. "There's this rumor about the Devil returning with its incarnates and I think Princess Olenna is about to wed one."
There was a gasp after which Ravenna followed suit, grasping the rosary on her neck. D-Devil?
It is one thing to believe in fairytales and another to comprehend the folklore of Lucifer existing in the human world. Ravenna had never believed in stories about the Devil Returning, but committed herself strongly by faith to Christ. However, learning about such Incarnates existing brought that strong feeling of something she couldn't decipher.
Their footsteps broke her out of her reverie and she quietly tiptoed, walking away.
On her way out through a quiet corridor, Ravenna slowed her footsteps when she heard familiar voices and one of them was no other than Lady Alethea, the viciousness of her heels echoing through the corridor.
"-prepared before dawn." The tone of her voice was sharp, bitter, and brutal as usual, sending shivers down one's spine such that Ravenna felt the taste of its intensity on her tongue.
It seemed like the preparation had been unexpected but was it just her or was the mood of the palace not joyful as expected? She remembered the gossip earlier and instantly felt dread for the poor Princess. Who would be happy to wed Lucifer's incarnate?
Sensing the number of times she had unconsciously thought of the Devil, Ravenna quickly made the sign of the cross and clutched her rosary for mercy. But deep down, she prayed it was only just rumors or an expression for 'someone evil' referred to that worse. But how bad is such a Lord to warrant such a figure of speech?
She waited until the footsteps faded into the distance before making her way out, leaving the castle behind.
On her way home, "Oh, I'm sorry," The sudden bump on her shoulder elicited a sharp gasp after, the impact sending her a few feet behind, however, she held her stance. "I'm so sorry,"
The voice of one haunted her when she replied, 'What do you think we should do with her, First?' and she immediately stuttered behind, holding her chest, forcing air into her lungs. The rate of her heartbeat was sickening yet she wished it would blur her thoughts away from that memory.
***