Negotiation

Chapter 1; Letha Brokenshire

    'It was as if I were suspended in midair, all stayed frozen, their expressions and the scent of decay that now lifted off the carcasses filling the foyer. They were consistent in gender, females never to love again.'

Complexity abound in the life of an heiress, yet it seems no such intricacy was provided for my eyes to decipher, not for some time...I wonder where it went? Had it felt exposed by my adorned side, was it in the end only an accessory to my desires; there was a time, raveled now by a sequence of unrelated events where I could nearly grasp it. There was a queer certainty in me that at the moment it dissolved into tomorrow it'd be securely clasped under my firm grip which I found a hassle to apply daily. Oh how erroneous I was, for since then I'd realized that beauty can never truly be contained nor can it be set free without severe backlash from your caged heart. Perhaps, it would behoove me to simply swallow the medicine that had been an apparent cure to all who suffered of forlorn aims.

"Lady Brokenshire!"

A voice drenched in reverence despite the secreted fatigue induced by my decision on architecture would have beckoned me towards consternation if my delay wasn't outlined for the exact reaction I had procured. It's quite silly of me to prod my physically demanded housemates around as though they were mere objects; nonetheless for reasons unnamed I cannot cease the practice.  Similar to an acute consumer of laudanum or any other narcotic that hoaxes the individual into a state of utter and inexplicable content, I am without doubt seeking that stimulation from every single person who is unfortunate enough to come across me. The possessor of the indignant tone did not challenge my attention spam again, as if they knew a strike was pending not necessarily directed at them but certainly delivered to them. I glanced up to see an emulated figure of me, a reflection for my eyes had been occupying a space which an item once held that I failed to notice the time much less my expression. Such placidity, no wonder my helper confined herself to the threshold of the entrance into my chambers, even that was valiant. I close my eyes shrouding the world in tranquil darkness whilst I spoke evenly; or so I believed.

"Say, by chance do you remember what darkened that corner on my bureau?"

A swift reply came, but not one identical to mine.

"My lady..., a vase and a frame."

I wondered yet I was aware where the conversation had led.

"I see. Are either of those items still on the premises?"

My well compensated servant was a fickle customer in honesty when it came to me especially topics such as this.

"No, my lady. As you instructed they were immediately removed and discarded on the same day."

At that frightfully incorrect sentence her plain alarm became visible to me and I watched it increase as I said in a tone that skimmed the top of irascibility.

"I made no such request of anyone. Who ordered for those articles to be disposed of?"

Her face made no attempt to counter; it was as though her entirety was yielding to my perspective, perhaps my methods compelled her while she stuttered.

"M-My lady, I-I-I-"

Before her mind could concluded its course of actions I did what I was often suggested to ease those around me, I decorated my typically curious features with a smile of nothing more than cheer.

"I did it because my lady always appeared so melancholy when those particular pair of gifts still had a place in her room."

Then suddenly it receded replaced by a curt nod yanking down any hope of merriment, at that moment our eyes assumed their position facing each other; hers were pillaged of jubilation though they still remained a light brown, I cannot vouch for my own. Depending on the angle and intensity of the light fashioned above us they may be either amber or dusky brown, though that is of no importance. A spontaneous sigh originating from my pigmented lips, picking apart our shared and momentary composure as though that wisp of air had manifested into a ghost, with every intention of ravaging feeble amity. The creature bared its malice aforethought and so I surmised that if I had fabricated it then surely I'd be the only one capable of dispelling it from my very own mind. Impossible. So, like daily I paid it no heed for I knew it would abate into my nightmares soon enough even so I straightened myself as one would in a crusade against corruption of rationality. Until moments ago I had no consciousness over the posture my body had undertook, I had been sitting for the majority of the preparations, that's quite lethargic of me.

I reluctantly brought my eyes to the clock determining time mounted on a wall assisting in capturing the rogue in thought heiress, rapidly I found myself rushing about in a space that may have resembled a room a king might use to entertain his guests. Soon after I was granted an ultimatum it became discernible to me that status was of no consequence if it was not displayed. If your precisely fitted pockets are budging with affluence you are impelled to employ it with one task; to simplify your life. Out of the corner of my eye which was once again indulging in its fixation on that empty spot where feigned adoration used to reside, I could see the maid commence her singular cause, work. I turned towards her weary silhouette which is the only sight they provided of her; restless entities they were, swirling about aimlessly, urging me to endow them with my perishable breath. In order to evade a confrontation I inquired with artificial attentiveness for an event I predicted would cease to stop in favors. 

"Marie, has it begun?"

Marie briefly looked at the stairs that minutes ago she herself had ascended; as though the festivities could be seen from our current height, regardless she listened. For quite a few seconds she relinquished her duties to keenly analyze the mixture of sounds; clattering, mortified shrieks and exuberant laughs at jests which most definitely lacked in wit. Agitation at my ignorance constrained my legs to proceed forward, to near the statue that I had created with an intelligible question deriving from genuine inquisitiveness. Before an echo could be conceived from the soles of shoes I could not suggest nor maneuver, Marie's words satisfied my mind's sudden urge.

"They are awaiting your arrival, Lady Brokenshire."

Word count: 1113