Content Warning: This story has direct references to sexual assault. The sexual assault does not occur during the contents of the story, but there will be discussion of it.
Your daughter had been gone for two months already. The count had ripped her from your arms in an instant on the day of her eighteenth birthday and gave you little to no time to say goodbye. You could only hope that she was well and being treated properly wherever she was, but you had no way to know for sure. You were anxious constantly, unaware if she was healthy or fed properly or even alive, but the idea that she could be somewhere out there, safe and happy, was the only comfort you found in your day to day life.
You were in a lot of pain at the moment. Moving around was difficult, and you struggled to complete your normal tasks. The madam had whipped you mercilessly just the day before for the unspeakable crime of passing in front of her when she was in a bad mood. She'd always been unkind to you, but since she discovered that your daughter, Catherine, was indeed the child of the Count, she had become the human embodiment of cruelty, turning the typical punishments she doled out onto you into nothing short of torture. You had no friends to turn to, since everyone in the manor knew you were the Countess's favorite punching bag, so they would earn themselves no favors by being kind to you. Without Catherine there to lean on anymore, it was becoming harder to endure the beatings.
As you were working, you saw David, a butler that had been hired recently. His face fell in sympathy as soon as he saw you, likely due to the bruising on your face and the split lip you were sporting. He was one of the few that treated you kindly.
"Margaret, I'm glad I caught you," He said. "I need your help."
"My help?" You asked. "I'll do my best. What can I help with?"
"The master has given me a task in town, but I don't know my way around quite yet. Could you help me find the..." He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. "The Periwinkle Florist? The master is having guests later this evening and wants new flowers for the foyer and receiving room. Do you know where it is?"
"Oh, yes, I do," You told him. "It's quite far, though. I'm surprised Master wants us to go so far out of the way for fresh flowers."
"You know how the master is," David said, rolling his eyes. "He wants what he wants."
Margaret laughed nervously. "Yes. Should we go now? It'll take us at least an hour to get there and an hour back."
"That would be best, if we want to return before nightfall," David agreed. "Are you ready to go as you are?"
"Oh, I just need to grab my shawl and we can go," You replied, taking a step toward the servants' quarters.
"Best be quick," He said. "I'll wait by the rear door."
Nodding, you quick-stepped back to your tiny closet and grabbed your crocheted shawl, old and repaired many times. Something felt off about the room, like something was missing, but you figured it was just because Catherine was no longer there, so it felt terribly empty.
You met David, who was carrying a large produce bag, by the back door that led out to the back of the estate, where there were the stables on one side and the tool sheds on the other. Between them was a road used exclusively by the servants into and out of the estate. The two of you set off down it, heading toward the middle ring of the city, where most of the shops were located.
David was pleasant company, engaging you in light small talk to pass the time. He asked about your daughter, which you were only too happy to talk about, and told you about his wife and son, to whom he was sending all of his money. Hearing him fondly describe his son as a "tiny terror" made you smile.
YOU ARE READING
The Towns: Beyond Shelter Forest
RomansaA series of stories that take place in the towns and cities that surround Shelter Forest: Willowridge, Coleville, Red Landing, Tandale, Chesterfield, Dulmountain City, and the Shoreton Ruins.