OLD VERSION! DONT READ!

/Chapter Three/ The Cute Stable Boy/

This maybe a tad boring so apologies! I'm trying to build up the story now :)

Hope you like this :D

The cute Stable boy is the pic there ---->

(C) All Rights Reserved To D.S Lemonius.

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~Chapter Three~

Father held my hand and led me through the hall and into a room, locking the door behind us. The room was very simple and felt like a gathering room; maybe family and friends could sit in here and speak of their days. There were many comfortable looking chairs and small tables for drinks arranged facing a fire place. I was tempted to sit though it would be rude of me. “May I sit down, father?”

“Yes Mercy but I only wish to speak with you quickly.” I nodded and sat down on a red chair and father sat beside me. “What happened at dinner was…”

“Justice I believe," I finished his sentence.

His dark eyes flared for a moment before he responded to my remark. “Mercy, I thought we came to an understanding before. You are to follow my plan with absolute procession; do you want to get yourself found out and killed!?” His voice gradually grew during his speech until he was shouting at me. I felt my lip quiver and myself shrink into the chair.

“Father it was not me who caused her misfortunate sudden change in appearance-a sickness must have befallen that bad mouthed youth.” I tried to convince him but my efforts were useless. He slammed his fist on the table in front of him with so much force a crack ran through the wood. I jumped in surprise at his sudden anger.

“Mercy Viola Thompson do not lie to me! No illness could have such a thing so quickly, you did this! Do you want to be killed? Burned at the stake for witchcraft?!”

“No father, I swear to you I did nothing!” well, it was not a lie; I only gave Heather the potion. “Witch burnings don’t happen anymore.”

Father’s face was gradually turning red which was not a good sign. He got up and began to pace, as he did when he was angered. All I could do was sit patiently and wait for what he’d say next. 

After a few moments of watching him I noticed the rage in his eyes die down and them shimmering with tears. He quickly blinked them away. I'd never seen my father so close to tears, not even when they took mother away. "You're mother was burned by this family against Queen Victoria laws; who's to say they won't do the same to you."

"Father I won't be burned, I promise you."

"I will no lose anymore of my family in such an inhumane manor. Follow my plan exactly," the way father spoke sounded so official, so final. I knew there was no arguing or reasoning. I now wanted to go against mothers wishes and follow father’s plan again. He was left heartbroken when mother was taken away. He didn’t show it physically but occasionally I saw sadness and longing for her in his eyes when we were back home. He wanted justice, revenge.

At that moment I felt my mother suddenly speak in my ear ‘do not listen to him. I will lead you to success with my plan.’  I glanced at mother from the corner of my eye and saw her forcing herself to take deep breaths. ‘You both will be at peace and as will I'.

She wondered away from my side to my father who had came to a halt with his paces. Mother lifted a hand to his face wanting to stroke his cheek so badly; she looked as if she were going to cry. They were both heart broken losing each other and I was stuck in the middle; who was I meant to listen to?