The sunrise slowly lit up the room. Bel had continued her drills, too wound up to go to sleep, and unwilling to make the woman wake up with someone else in her bed.
The woman would wake up soon. Bel had taken berries from the kitchen to give her once she woke up. It should be soft enough no matter the state of her teeth, without being too filling for someone that definitely seemed starved.
The bird chirped. She cursed under her breath. She had forgotten to get food for the bird. She had taken more than just berries from the kitchen , she had stolen a small stash just in case.
The count had liked to starve her and Bel liked to be prepared.
So all in all, she had more than enough food to feed the bird. She just didn't have much that it could eat that would be considered healthy for a bird. She wasn't willing to give the berries to it when it was so perfect for the woman.
She sighed. That pigeon was lucky she was nice. She took out an apple and started cutting it with her dagger, dirtying the table and her dagger in the process.
The pieces were slowly fed to the bird. Her hands gently went through its feathers, detangling them and tugging at loose feathers.
She was glad there was lock on this door. It's been a long time since she saw a morning this calm.
Someone knocked on her door.
Uh, she thought, just when she was getting some calm.
Bel quickly put on a simple dress over her chemise and opened the door ajar.
" What. " She snapped.
It was her maid.
" Mistress, the duke asks if you wish to eat breakfast with him. " Said the maid, keeping her tone respectful and her eyes down.
Just the mention of the duke brought a shiver down her spine, especially when she thought back to the woman she found. Bel reminded herself not to shoot the messenger.
" No thank you. But tell him I will be going out to set up my bank account later today. " She said, leaving no room for argument.
The maid nodded before leaving.
Bel locked the door again. She already had much to do. She went back to her old habits and took out her diary. It wasn't much of a traditional diary, but whatever.
She started listing out all she had to do : she needed to set up the bank account, find out if the duke was behind the woman's poor state, check with the duke's doctor if the bird was doing good and… that's it ?
Huh, there was less than she thought. Well, at least there were less immediate tasks than she thought, she still had long-term plans she needed to put in place, but that could wait.
The woman's even breathing became irregular. She shifted.
" Uh. " She muttered incomprehensibly.
Bel put down the pen and book. She stood up from her chair and approached the bed. Yet she stayed at a certain distance to not tower over her.
The woman's eyes slowly opened. Her eyes went wide when she realized Bel was in the room with her.
" Hello. " Bel greeted her.
Her voice stayed low, like she was speaking to a stray cat.
" He…" The woman tried to greet her back but her raspy voice faded away before she could finish.
She coughed. Her hand went to her throat, as if it was causing her pain. Once she stopped coughing and her hand went back down, Bel observed a wound on her throat. It was what was stopping her from speaking clearly.
Bel made a mental note to go take tea and honey for the woman's throat. Berries should do for now.
" Do you want some ? " She asked, holding out the berries.
The woman look at her than at the berries. She seemed distrustful. But her hunger won out in the end. She nodded slowly. Her lips opened.
Bel understood she might not have enough force to even feed herself. She started to hand feed her. The woman's eyes stayed down, avoiding Bel. Bel couldn't keep calling her 'woman'.
" Can you write ? " Asked Bel.
The woman shook her head. Her hesitation and her tense muscles told Bel that she might be lying. But she didn't care to question her.
" Do you have a name ? " Bel asked another question.
This time she nodded without hesitation.
" I can recite the alphabet, and you'll stop me once I reach the first letter of your name. Would that be alright ? "
The woman thought it over before nodding again. Bel started reciting the alphabet. She got stopped at 't' than 'i' and eventually 'a'. It was rather short and simple, a typical name for a born-slave.
" Tia ? " She verified.
The woman nodded. She didn't seem to have any animosity towards that name.
" May I ask…" She paused, thinking how to turn her sentence. " Are you a slave ? "
It wasn't really a question, more of a way to approach the subject that truly interested her : was the duke a slave owner.
Tia just nodded, apparently at ease with her statue, or as at ease as someone can be with being a slave.
" Is your master the duke ? " She asked.
She didn't know what she would do if the answer's yes.
Tia tilted her head, before shaking her head. Oh. Bel hadn't felt her muscles tensed until she relaxed.
" Does he work under the duke ? "
Tia nodded.
" Could you mime his occupation ? " She proposed.
Tia raised herself on shaky arms. Her arms gave out too fast and her head landed softly on the pillow.
Fuck. Bel just saw her struggle to eat, and here she was asking her to play a game of mime just to satisfy her curiosity.
" Don't worry, this can wait. " She stopped Tia from trying to get up again.
Bel needed to make her bank account the earliest possible, before the duke could change his mind. But Tia clearly couldn't accompany her in her current state.
" Do you mind if I go out for a while ? "
Tia just gave a small shrug, her face stayed unbothered.
" Thanks. I'll lock the door so nobody can come in. Would you rather have puzzles or crayons and paper to occupy yourself ? Nods for puzzle and shake your head for paper and crayons. " Adds Bel once she remembers Tia's predicament.
Tia paused. She shrugs again.
" Hm. I'll get you both I guess. " She said, and Tia nodded in agreement.
Bel starts leaving. She takes the key that hangs near the door. She can lock the door from the inside without a key, but she would need the key to lock it and unlock it from the outside.
Bel is hit with a terrifying thought : what if someone else had the keys ?
Bel added hiring a locksmith to her list. In the meantime, she moves Tia behind the furnitures, laying pillows and blankets on the ground.
Bel quickly goes to the library she takes the puzzles and crayons as promised, she already had paper in her room. She leaves it all with Tia, who is comfortably curled in a makeshift nest.
Bel starts preparing herself to go out. As annoying as it is, she puts on a fancier dress to keep up appearances, she bathes and puts on a bit of makeup.
She is glad to have thrown out her maid in those moments, where she is the only one that decides of her appearance. To have even just a voice at her side while she dressed had become unbearable.
She goes out of the room and signal to the first servant.
" Prepare a carriage and tell the duke I am going out. " She orders, her voice had lost the almost gentle quality it had taken on with Tia.
Bel wondered how old Tia was. She was definitely a woman already, so over fourteen, she might even guess her to be sixteen years old like Bel. Or at least, like Bel in this life. Sixteen seemed young after having lived three lives already.
A tall silhouette interrupted her train of thought. A scarred face greeted her.
" Good morning duchess. " The duke greeted her.
That title was still so unfamiliar to her. Bel noted that he didn't refer to her by name, just like she asked, although it probably wasn't intentional. He wasn't a slave owner either, so she guessed she should refer to him by his first name like he asked.
Except that she didn't know his name still. She was left awkwardly nodding at him rather than answering, which might just be even more rude.
The duke's small smile started fading already.
" I heard you were going out for the bank account ordeal. " He inquired.
" Yes. " She did try to talk rather than nod and shake her head, but she didn't quite know what else to say.
" Might I accompany you, your grace ? " He asked in his usual cold tone.
Yet while his tone was as usual, he was speaking more formally. Too formally even. Calling a duke or duchess 'your grace' implied the interlocutor was below the duke or duchess. Yet as her husband, he was clearly superior to her. Was this his idea of a jeer ..?
Whatever. She shrugged it off, if her husband wanted to play weird games to establish dominance over the woman contractually obligated to rely on him, he could.
Ah. Bel was so focused on his weird words that she forgot to actually listen to what he said.
" Could you repeat that ? " She asked, trying not to show her annoyance.
She just had to stay docile long enough to get this damn bank account, and then they can starts the screaming match and beatings.
" Could I accompany your grace ? " He tried again.
'Your grace' again. Whatever. Bel better tell him yes before he goes back on his word.
" If the duke wishes to, then he may. " There, wasn't that enough of an effort.
Honestly, he should give Bel an award for best wife. And he should also give her an inheritance that specifically stated that it should all belong to her and no male guardian could touch it.
The duke took her hand and started leading her out.
Bel docilely followed him, ignoring the urge to take her hand away. The callouses on his hands were covered by his gloves. Those gloves should have only reminded her of bad memories. But, that gentle touch was so different from anyone else's that she could never mistaken those hands for someone else's.
They enter the carriage together, and start moving.