A Tale of Shadows - THE OUTDATED VERSION

Chapter 17 - A Discarded Woman

The morning after Melinda had returned from the Eadean royal palace, she slowly woke up with sunbeams adorning her bedroom, moaning happily. While she was ceasing to see nothing other than utter, voracious darkness, she remembered the events from the last day. It was the best day she had lived through in quite some time. The realization of her scheme had begun at once, and it had begun more easily than she had expected. Although the other woman George mentioned could present a problem, that potential obstacle was relatively infinitesimal compared to her success. Tranquillity flowed through her veins like a river as she stood up, commencing to dress.

It was slightly complicated for her to walk over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room in her half-asleep state, but she managed to do so in a matter of seconds. In the time during which her whole body felt numb, she stroked the closet with her right hand, sensing its stiffness. It was a wide and tall one, dark brown in colour, and, judging from the time she took to smell its scent in the air, it was made out of pine. As it had two handles, she shook the one on the right first, and then the one on the left without hesitation. Her smile broadened once she saw how many dresses were there. They must have washed a number of them while I was away, she thought.

There were dresses of all kinds, only two of them white - the one she had had before and her wedding dress. There was also the dress that she always wore on funerals, a purple dress accompanied by a green overcoat, a long red dress with transparent sleeves that had little rubies all over them, and she would have studied all of them if she hadn't noticed one that she hadn't seen before, which she grabbed immediately.

It was a light shade of pink, and, as soon as she unfolded it, she saw that it had puffy sleeves and that it would reach her knees if she put it on. It was obviously made of cotton, and her tired hands were the perfect witnesses for that. Its aroma was that of a pink rose, so innocent, yet so alluring, enchanting her furthermore. She suspected who its creator could be, and when she opened the envelope near the dress and read the words from the paper inside it, all became clear. On it were written these words:

"In all the years to come, especially the eternity that you will live through, I doubt I could find a way to properly express my love for you, but I present you something I thought you would admire. I apologize for not being able to find a better material to sew the dress with, and I could not fully form an idea of what to give to a wealthy woman with a character such as yours, which I have only recently begun to explore, but I believe that it is the intent that matters, although I have no real reason to give you a present. I hope I did a good enough job.

Yours truly,

Malcolm."

She knew that those were his words, for not another acquaintance of hers' words bore such gentle admiration, nor such attention to detail, nor such ridiculous amounts of concern that always warmed her heart a little. She also memorized what his handwriting looked like - his letters were stiff and small, yet beautifully written and arranged, a perfect representation of character. That tiny bit of him contained all that she loved about him, and she felt the need to talk to him in person in an instant. Soon, she grasped that she had to do so out of urgency.

"Especially the eternity that you will live through?" How could have I missed that?

If he had found out that she became an immortal, her love could not save either of them from the probable consequences. Perhaps she had started to love too much, even though the hatred within her heart that would not wither left her at unrest. Those theories were completely reasonable to her, as her heart had already failed her numerous times, not notifying her about all the people she could never trust, even Jeffrey, who she believed had betrayed her by believing in Maria, and whom she tried her hardest not to ponder about. She could not afford to be viewed as a lovestruck fool by one person, let alone more. She had carved it into her brain on so many occasions that her veins would boil every time, tired of living in fear.

As she was walking towards the balcony, where he would usually sit, with the letter in her hand, another woman walked towards her, and a woman that would never not make her face turn sour at that. Her dark blonde hair was flowing in the air as she did so, her brown eyes fixated on Melinda, who stared at her unblinkingly, once gain in disbelief at how horribly she had dressed. The fiery orange hue of her dress hurt her eyes, and the lady's whole body was covered with it, highlighting every part of her figure, which resembled a stick. She also noted that orange didn't suit her well due to her fair skin, thick eyebrows that could not be dealt with and her hair, which seemed to have been unwashed for a long time. However, a few moments afterwards, she forced herself to halt such shallow thoughts, wondering what the passenger was doing.

"Where are you heading? What could you be conjuring up this time?" Susanne grunted, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You seem rather upset, dear Lady May of the Hertford province, and I cannot blame you. There is much to be upset about, but if I were you, I would not show it. All the blue on your face... It is rather concerning. You should take care of yourself more."

Susanne's face reddened. "It is impossible to do when I have to live with you! They all say that you possess such perfection, such kindness, such talent that cannot be found anywhere else, and I see that you are trying your best to act all humble, but it does not convince me. And that theme is brought up so often that I cannot ignore it. The world does not begin with you, nor does it end there. Remember that other people exist too, Mrs Bellerose."

"You are lucky that I allowed you to stay inside the palace," Melinda remarked, glaring at her. "And why should I listen to the words of a woman as unimportant as you are, yet another woman discarded, a woman who can merely dream of being in my position?"

"Success often deceives," Susanne responded, returning the glare. "If success were based on honest judgment, perhaps I would have been married to your friend. But we are trapped within the bounds of reality, therefore, you have married him, and as soon as he died, you have moved to other beds, I am certain of that. I wish you knew just how much the allure of power has betrayed you, and also that it hasn't betrayed me. All I want is not that demanding, and you are aware of that. It simply inconveniences you."

Melinda crossed her hands. "You have no proof that I yearn for the company of other men, but I have seen your eyes wander all the time when it comes to the members of that gender, which I have no issue with. After all, you are unmarried, affluent, and have a figure that could appeal to those of simpler character than mine. It would be a shame if you wasted all of that."

"I am not the Queen of Obscuria, you oblivious woman!" Susanne said, waving her hands in the air. "The royalty is meant to uphold the morality of the country, and I am not willing to place my faith in someone who has no faith. Poor Douglas, poor him indeed, for he trusted you. At least those who sleep with me know what they are getting into."

"Then do not shame me for doing so, especially without proof," Melinda said with a shrug.

Knowing fully well that Melinda would never understand her, Susanne walked away as though her feet were on fire, leaving the other woman to head to the balcony at last, where the one she was seeking really was.

Malcolm was drinking chamomile tea and listening to the birdsong that was coming from the nearby cherry tree, smiling with his eyes half-closed. She drew one of the three black chairs that were located at the table, as the fourth was facing the fence of the terrace, where he was sitting. When she finally drew the chair, she placed it right next to him, sitting down. Once he saw that she bore a scowl on her face, he choked on his tea, putting it away, his eyes wide open.

"My dear lady, what could be bothering you today?" he mumbled, hesitating to look her in the eyes.

"There appears to be a mistake in the letter you wrote me. You said that I would live through an eternity, which is impossible. I am not immortal."

He bit his tongue as to not gasp. "How come I wrote that? Immortality is impossible to achieve. Perhaps I meant a figurative eternity, due to your life being quite difficult."

She nodded. "It must have been that. Farewell, Malcolm, and spend your time nicely until then."

"Melinda!" he called out to her while she was leaving. "Do not lose your trust in me, I beg of you. I do not know why I have written that, and I for sure don't know where it came from."

Melinda nodded once more. "I would never lose my trust in someone whose trust is so unwavering. Farewell to you again."

"Farewell to you as well," Malcolm whispered while she was leaving, unaware of the fact that she stared at him during that time.