𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 ~ 𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑎 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘

chapter three

Walburga wakes up groaning, this evening has been trying. After returning to the house, she was forced to dance again and again, with children, teenagers, old people and it never ended. Her feet and calves hurt and she stares at the ceiling for a little while. She sighs as the door opens on Lizbeth.

The maid bends over and moves forward to open the heavy curtains, letting the bright light dazzle Walburga who hides her eyes in a moan. She hasn't opened all her presents yet, but her parents forced her to open Orion's in front of him. And once again, it's a necklace that's too big, too heavy and hideous that was discovered without any surprise. She doesn't understand why they were so keen for her to spend time with her cousin, but she was bored.

Orion has opinions that differ from hers and she couldn't say anything, just agreeing with him. The only good part of the evening was that stolen moment, shared with Sirius and thinking back on it, Walburga's face relaxes into a smile that she hides under Lizbeth's gaze who waits for her to get up. She forces herself out of bed, runs off to wash herself and comes back, dressed, so that the maid can do her hair.

"Did you have fun?" Lizbeth asks.

"It was way too long," she sighs. "And I won't even mention the state of my feet. It was truly torture. And you? How was it?"

Walburga knows how it is for servants, especially women, and seeing the other girl's eyes cloud over with something she can't say, she turns her bust and takes her hand that holds the brush.

"What did they do to you?" she asks with a lump in her throat.

"Nothing much, Miss Black," Lizbeth replies. "Please turn around so I can finish brushing your hair."

Walburga doesn't intend to give up. She gets up and takes the brush that she places on the dressing table then she takes the hand of the one she considers a friend and pulls her onto the bed. She keeps her hands in hers and looks at her, worried.

"Liz," Walburga whispers, "tell me what happened. And it’s an order."

She hates giving orders, making it clear that she’s superior despite everything, but she needs to know. It’s visceral and her stomach tightens as she sees Lizbeth look down at their hands.

"They took us to your father’s office," she admits.

Walburga swallows hard. Two things can happen behind the closed office door. An assault in two ways. Through sex or through torture and when Lizbeth starts talking, she feels like throwing up. She lifts the maid’s face and strokes her cheek.

"It's not your fault," Walburga says. "You're not guilty and you never will be. Listen to me, no matter what happens in this office, I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again."

She doesn't know how, but she can't live knowing what Liz has been through without doing anything. She just has to think about it and she squeezes her hands. How she hates having the name Black. It's a curse. A poison that runs through her body and she fears that one day it will reach her heart.

"I'm going to go to town," she says, "I'm going to find you a job and if I find you one, you'll leave tonight, I'll help you, but keep quiet, don't talk to anyone, not even the other employees. Do you promise me?"

"Yes, miss," the young woman replies. "I don't know how to thank you for everything you do for me. You are not like them, you deserve better and one day, you will be free."

Walburga is hit in the chest by these words. Because it is true that Lizbeth is right. She is not free. She is a prisoner of a family name, of blood that flows in her veins and she nods, smiling.

"In that case, we will both be, you a little sooner, but I will not forget you," Walburga promises. "And when I am free, I will come to see you."

Talking and doing are two radically different things. Walburga knows this and she prefers to lie rather than reveal that she will never be able to be free. Everywhere she goes, they will start looking for her and the more time passes, the more she risks being called to the Dark Lord in order to be marked.