Noblesse Oblige

Chapitre vingt

Author stuff: Tomorrow marks the start of a very busy week and a half for me. We have a hockey team coming in, and I don't know if I'll be able to post at my work next week or if I'll have to wait until I get home. It depends on how busy they'll make it. (Which is probably going to be busy, because this group has always been demanding.) I won't know until Tuesday and Thursday what to expect.

Puppy update! Forgot to say something on Tuesday, but my aunt is out of town this week. This means my grandma and my aunt's dogs are home alone most of the day. My dad and I have been trading off days to go up there and make sure my grandma's eating and taking her medicine, and getting the dogs out of the house. SInce my aunt has this big field behind her house, I take her dogs and my dog out for a run. All three are exhausted by the time we get back.

Chapitre vingt

A Very, Very Bad Man

The first thing that came to her mind when she awoke was that she had a rather rude headache. The second was the pain in her neck. Third, the bed she was on was oddly comfortable, and she couldn't explain the headache or the pain because it didn't make any sense. How could a bed so soft and comfy earn the ire of her body?

Heavily, her eyes slid open and she took in her surroundings. This was most definitely not her room. For starters, it was too dark. A simple parting of the bed curtains proved her further correct. The room was too nice, the furniture too plush. Where was she?

She slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the window — praying that she didn't make a lot of noise. A part of her was afraid that Rothbart — if he was even nearby — would hear her.

A part of her mind nagged that this place was too nice for a baker, but... was he even a baker? Those words sunk deep into the pits of her stomach and churned there. She had always sensed something off about him. Just who was Rothbart exactly?

Marinette scrunched her brow when she looked outside. She was still in Rochers, that was for certain — she could see the plain steeple of the church from the window, just beyond the tree branches. Surveying what she could, she saw the somewhat familiar gardens of the manor.

"What..." she said, clasping hands over her mouth. She winced at the sound of her voice.

She strained her ears to hear any noise from outside the door leading into the room, but there was none. Perhaps she had no guards? Which was impossible. Félix always made sure she had guards, whether she was expected or not.

Unless Lila was behind this?

She doubted that. Lila had only ever shown her kindness and helped her. Kidnapping wasn't in her repertoire. At least, she thought it wasn't.

But pondering that could be saved for a later time. First thing she needed to do was get out of the manor.

She checked the window. There were glass panes set into the stone and iron, fusing them all together. There was no way to open it. She hated to do it — glass was a commodity and quite expensive, she didn't want to have to pay Félix back for it — but breaking it might be her only option.

She filed that away, hoping for another way out.

She peeked out the door, just opening it a hair's breadth. She caught sight of the colorful  back of the guard's wear, and closed the door. Nope, she wasn't getting out that way.

She poked behind the tapestries hanging from the wall, hoping to find the servant's door. It didn't exist, at least not in that particular room.

She even checked the fireplace for some hidden escape route, but there was nothing. As old as the manor was, and from what she remembered of those stories her father told her, places that old always had secret entrances and exits.