The Red Candle

Chapter Five

I groaned as I woke up. I never recognized the bed I was laying on, neither the entire bedroom. It was a large, comfortable bed with the thick woolen blankets covering my legs. My head settled over the soft black pillows. I rose and looked around the room. As I said, the bed was large where grandma and I can sleep here comfortably. There was a huge closet, probably where all the clothes were arranged. I also noticed a portrait of a familiar lady. I easily recognized her white face, her black hair, black lips, and black dress. It was a portrait of lady Simoune as she sat on a chair. I looked at her face, seeing only the cold smile of her brown eyes. It was cold inside, the door was close and I was all alone. From then, I knew that I was in Simoune's bedroom.
I didn't have any idea on how I did pass out earlier in the museum. But I could never forget the whispering voices in my head. I finally knew that it was Dolora Windister who had a grudge against our family. Perhaps she was the one who brought the curse to our bloodline. It was startling that it wasn't just a horde of typical rich families in the age of monarchs, but it was a royal family. Maybe I needed to tell this to grandma and especially to uncle Henry.
I was about to get on my feet then the door went open. It was Lucy who gave me a concerned look. "Sandra!" She rushed towards me and threw a hug at me. "How are you? Are you feeling well now?"She pulled away and sat beside me. "Hey, do you remember what happened back there?"
I cleared my throat. "I'm fine Lucy. It's just the ghosts again."
"Oh God, even in the museum?" She shook her head and stood. "I think we should tell this to your uncle. You said that-"
Lucy was interrupted as Lady Simoune entered the room with a tray of tea cups. "Hello there my dear ones. Tea is ready." As I watched her put the tray on a free space of the bed, I realized that it was her who touched me before I passed out in the Lang Vran Museum. Simoune handed me a cup. "Have a little one, Sandra. It may help you to feel better."
"Thanks." I took a sip of tea and tasted the flavor of the aromatic herbs and a little bitterness. The warmth of the tea gave coziness to my hand and fingers.
"And one for you, dear." Simoune offered Lucy, too.
My friend took it and drank some. "Thank you, lady Simoune."
"So..." Simoune sat along us and turned to me. "How are you feeling, Sandra?"
I put down the cup and replied. "I'm fine now, lady Simoune. Thank you for your generosity."
"Out of curiosity, may I know what happened to you, dear?"
I hesitated. Lucy and I gave each other a quick glance. I didn't want other people, or strangers, to know about what was going on with my family and worse of all, about these haunting spirits. If I tell her, Simoune might also be affected if the ghosts attack me again. "I just had a headache. Silly me, I forgot to take my pills before we left." I placed my cup on the tray and stepped out of the bed.
"Are you sure that you're fine, dear?" Simoune asked us, one more time. There was no trace of disappointment on her kind face, yet her voice implies otherwise. "Can you go home? You can't be so sure if it's safe out there." Lucy also placed the cup on the tra and joined me, as we were preparing ourselves to get on our way home.
"What do you mean that it isn't safe outside, Ma'am?" I asked her.
"Oh, Sandra. You know what I mean." There was a hint of malice in her eyes, as if she knew something about me.
"Yes, Ma'am." I bowed to her as a farewell greeting. "Thank you for your generosity and apologies for the disturbance." Lucy and I turned around.
"Don't you want to know more about the Windisters?"
We halted our footsteps and faced her. How could she possibly know? "I'm sorry?"
"Oh, come on. Don't hide it anymore." Simoune chided and stood. "I'm a spiritualist, dear. From the very first moment when I saw you, I knew that something was following you..." She walked towards me, her arms crossed. "... Something that has been bothering you, Sandra."
"And how did you know that it was them who's following us?"
Simoune giggled. "I've been communicating and dealing with several lost spirits in my lifetime. And the one who's chasing you is no longer new to my ears. The scent of the Windisters are familiar to my senses".
——
"Dolora Windister..." Simoune said, pouring some wine in her glass. We sat at her dining table, a huge one with several blank seats. It was dark inside, with only the chandelier enlightening the entire spacious area. Few feet behind Simoune was the kitchen island, where a candelabra stood, holding these lighted candles along with a basket of fruits and more wine glasses.
Simoune capped the wine bottle and continued. "The second queen of New Mandriom." She turned to us with sternness in her eyes. "I suppose you both know the tragic murder of the queen, eh?"
Lucy and I nodded.
"Good. And do you believe that there is a reason why the queen is chasing you, Sandra?"
"No. All I know is that our family is cursed and once we turn nineteen, these spirits always visits us... an unfriendly visit, of course." From then, I told Simoune everything, all of the things that i saw in my dreams, the night when I first encountered it during our dinner in our home. I also shared with her about what grandma told me. All the information that I left behind from her was that. We were having aid and protection from uncle Henry. I thought to not tell Simoune about him because it seems that the point of views of spiritualists and priests differs from one another. Especially when we are talking about the dead. And yeah, I remember one time when uncle Henry told us not to trust any spiritualist when we need help about this matter. We must never ask for their assistance, and when I asked him why that was, all he told me was that all we need is his help because he was a priest and was a sacred instrument of God. He believed that we should never bother the dead, which was the exact opposite of what every spiritualist was practicing. Well, they don't really bother them yet the way of communication with the spirits of the dead might be dangerous. And now, here we were, telling everything to Simoune. I thought that she could really help us. Perhaps I wouldn't just tell uncle Henry about her.
"Oh... this isn't good." She stood after hearing my story. "Follow me, if you want to understand what's really happening."