The Modern Adam and Eve

Chapter 8

Octavia couldn't shake the image of the poor man and the way he was being treated.

"Father lied to me." Octavia thought bitterly. "That wasn't a horse I saw that night; it was a man. But why would he keep a man locked up and treat him like a wild animal? It's not like him to do something so horrific."

She felt a strong urge to confront him, to uncover the truth behind the unsettling secret. Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding, and her father was not capable of such cruelty. Yet, she feared that if he discovered she had ventured into the stables against his orders, she might never leave the mansion again. He could confine her to the house until she was of marriageable age or, worse, send her off to a strict boarding school.

After hours of wrestling with her thoughts, she tried to convince herself that her father must have had a good reason for keeping a man in the stables. It would be wiser to act as if she had seen nothing. However, the disturbance lingered in her mind, evident on her face. Until she could mask her feelings, she did everything possible to avoid her father's watchful gaze. Fortunately, he seemed too preoccupied with his secretive work alongside Benedict to notice her distress.

The Goetia estate was eerily quiet. Stolas often left to meet with Benedict, leaving Octavia to spend her days in her room, using books and her pets to distract herself. One day, when her puppies grew restless, she decided to let them outside to run and play, careful to keep them away from the stables. It was meant to be a quick romp in the garden before returning indoors.

As Octavia opened the door to the garden, sunlight poured in, illuminating the vibrant flowers and lush greenery surrounding the estate. Her pups bounded out, tails wagging with excitement, and for a brief moment, she felt a sense of peace watching them frolic in the grass. Yet, the unease nagged at her, a constant reminder of the secret lurking within the stables.

She paced the garden's perimeter, her thoughts drifting back to the man she had glimpsed in the shadows. The image haunted her: his wild hair, scarred face, and the desperate look in his eyes. What had he done to deserve such a fate? What kind of man was her father to imprison him like an animal?

Octavia forced herself to focus on her puppies, tossing a ball for them to chase. Their joy was infectious, but as she bent down to pet one of them, a noise from the stables caught her attention—a faint rustling, as if something was shifting within. Her heart raced, and she glanced back toward the mansion, half-expecting to see her father's silhouette watching her from a window.

"Just the wind." She whispered to herself, though doubt crept in. She tried to shake it off and returned to playing with her dogs, but the sound continued to tug at her thoughts.

Then, unexpectedly, she heard music. It was a melody she recognized—the kind she played on her flute. It dawned on her that she had left it in the stables by accident.

A wave of anxiety washed over Octavia as the realization struck her. The music floated through the air, a haunting melody that seemed to beckon her closer. She glanced at her puppies, who were now distracted by a butterfly flitting around the daisies, blissfully unaware of the turmoil stirring in their owner's heart.

With a deep breath, Octavia made a decision. The desire to retrieve her flute—a cherished instrument that allowed her to express herself—overpowered her fear of her father's wrath. It was a part of her, a connection to her creativity, and she couldn't leave it in that dark place any longer.

Steeling herself, she moved toward the stables, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. As she approached, the unmistakable sound of music grew louder, intertwining with the rustle of hay and the soft whinnies of the horses. She paused for a moment, caught between the instinct to flee and the pull of curiosity urging her forward.