The Great Escape

Chapter- 9

A/N: Not entirely, but some parts might be uncomfortable for some readers. Please proceed with that in mind :)

Ada rubbed her arm, hoping to rub off the pain. The guards had finally released her from their deathly hold and she stood in the middle of the bed chamber of the Countess.

"Leave."

Countess Rose Monroe sat on her bed with an inscrutable face.

"How have you been faring, Ms Ada?" She asked quietly. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled. The pointed tips of her fangs poked the painted flesh of her lips. "Much well after releasing your frustration?"

Ada clenched her fist, barely controlling herself. Frustration was not what led her into doing this, defense was. The unfortunate incident was not deliberate. She had nothing against the Lady.

"My Lady—" Ada kneeled, her hands resting on her bent knees. They twitched to adjust the eye patch and scratch her left cheek. She held back the urge to do so. "I— I did not do it on purpose. There— There was no malice. Lady Kiara, she— she was not responding to our calls—"

"Intruding into her room solved that issue." The Countess crossed her long legs, the white satin gown she wore swishing.

"No, my Lady!" Ada pleaded. She cursed herself internally. This was her fault. Only if she was hearing when Mrs Smith was assigning them chores yesterday, she would not have been here. She would have been somewhere else, in a far off corner of the mansion, doing mundane tasks,‌ safely.

"Universe reciprocates. Slow or instantaneous. Now or tomorrow. The deeds are culminated and the future is shaped. That future greets you. Surely. Certainly." 

Her grandma's voice vibrated in her head. She never understood much of what she used to speak earlier. But since times as damned as now had chained her— she would regularly recall her stern, soothing voice. It was almost like she was preparing her for the worst.

Ada, as wronged as she felt, refused to put the blame on Misty. She knew, deep in her heart, if she were in her place, she would have attempted the same or at least thought about it.

The Countess was not exactly a gentle woman, after all. Everybody feared her. If she were to receive this information from somewhere else— oh heavens forbid!

The sound of shuffling had Ada shift her brown eyes off the ground.

The Countess had stood up from her bed. She smoothed her sheer white nightdress calmly. Ada shivered. She was alone with the disturbingly calm aristocrat.

"Stand up."

Ada did as she was told.

The Countess closed her eyes for a moment, before narrowing the distance between herself and the maid girl standing in her bedroom with her head held low, her strawberry blonde strands hiding her disfigured face.

The Countess raised her hand.

Then let it come down with full force and crash against the girl's gaunt cheek. Ada's head moved to the side with the force and she stumbled a little. Red bloomed at the area of impact.

Ada gulped down the lump in her throat. Tears sprung up in her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she blinked back the tears. Countess Monroe hated tears. Loathed them. They fueled her anger. Ada knew this from experience. 

"That was for stepping into an aristocrat's room uninvited." Countess Monroe said in a hushed voice, turning around to pick a cup full of hot tea and taking a sip.

Ada discreetly peeked through the curtain of thin, blonde hair which had obscured her view.

The Countess had moved to stand near the large, oval window at the left corner of her room. The moonlight bathed her with a cold radiance. Her pale skin looking porcelain white. Vacuous face tilted up to look at the sky, her gaze strong and steady.