"Sing for me." A greying man sat, swirling his glass of red wine in one hand.
His shoulders were slouched, brows hardened with tension and a frown lay prominent on his lips made it clear that he was exhausted from the countless vexations his duties had often brought.
The family had just finished up dinner, which meant that they could start getting ready for bed. The Count had requested his youngest daughter of just eight years old, to meet him in his study; an invitation in which she gladly accepted.
Erica loved her father as much as any young girl would. She understood how hard he worked and accepted his withdrawn personality. The little girl delighted in being acknowledged and, to her half-siblings secret envy, was often called for by him.
Erica took a deep breath and let free her beautiful voice with the intent of shaping it into a melody, something she had grown accustomed to, but what came next was not quite a song. Her voice lost all its sweetness as it cracked, and a sharp pain struck the back of her throat.
Eyes widened in fear, Erica tried again but this time it resulted in a coughing fit. She fell to her knees and grasped at her throat with dainty hands as the pain overtook her senses and the coughing continued.
Count Alvore narrowed his eyes as a servant rushed to her side and began rubbing gently on her lower back in a poor attempt to sooth the child.
Erica placed both hands on the floor in front of her, trying to regain her balance and steady her breathing. One final cough was soon followed by panting and drops of saliva-mixed-blood fell from her lips and onto the hardwood floor below her.
Shouting could be heard distantly to Erica and her vision blurred in and out of focus through her eyes that had misted over as the servant ran to call for help.
She had missed the detached and unwavering stare of the Count who still remained seated. Before her mind could comprehend it, she was pulled to her feet and escorted out of the room, only to faint from the intensity of the pain into the arms of the servant that caught her in time.
The Count watched as she was rushed off before turning to face the remaining servant.
"Clean up this mess. It better not leave a stain."
A few hours had passed when the physician finally surfaced from the young girls' room. He informed the frazzled servant on duty of what needed to be done and then made his way to the Count's study.
Once granted permission to enter, he found Count Alvore sitting at his desk reviewing documents as if nothing had happened.
"Your Excellency," The physician started, "I'm afraid your daughter will no longer be able to use... to use her voice."
The Count's natural stoic expression developed into a frown, but he continued on with his work showing no signs of stopping.
"I have done all I could, but it was not enough." The physician bowed his head low half-expecting the Count to lash out at him. Something that did not happen. He was only met with an uncomfortable amount of silence.
"If that is all, I shall take my leave now." He bowed once again and scurried out of the room.
While making his way out, he walked past the Countess who stood elegantly before him in her silk night gown, she watched him carefully. Turning back momentarily, he nodded at her, and a sinister smile formed on her face.
Erica's life had been changed forever.
YOU ARE READING
Erica
Historical FictionThey say her voice was once bewitching to all who heard it. She was like a siren luring sailors to their deaths on quiet nights... Those are just rumours that once were, truth be told the youngest daughter of the Count was a mute. Her voice had long...