The Undoing of Regent House

Chapter 4

The memory of Medea running away was like a nightmare Celia forced herself to remember so that she would never forgive and forget.

It was during dinner. They were having steaks- which Celia despised- and talking about the upcoming wedding- Bella didn't give a damn- while the rain pelted at the windows. Her mother, Lavina, was a delicate woman and her father was always ready to smile.

Apparently Bella's fiancée- whom Celia met and hated- had a younger brother, a few years older than Medea. He'd be a good match, said her parents. The family's wealthy and well connected. They lived by the old ways. You know how it's hard to find decent folk.

"I can't," said Medea.

She looked sick. Her hands were wringing under the table. Celia edged her seat away; her dress was new and she did not fancy a spill.

"You haven't met the man, yet," said her mother. "He's seen you at a few conventions. He's taken an interest. I think it's a good match."

Medea shook her head. "No."

Bella slammed her goblet against the wood. "Oh?" Her painted lips were in a smile, but her eyes were hard. "And why not?"

"I just... don't think it's a good match-"

"But, you haven't met him," hissed Bella. She looked ready to claw across the table. She looked ready to attack. Medea looked sicker. She looked too pale. "Why cross out the chance? I say make the engagement. I've already met Richard's brother. There's a lot of time for Medea to get to know him after-"

"I'm already-"

Medea stopped herself. From under the table, Celia could see her sister's hands shaking. Quietly, Celia reached for Medea's fingers and held them tight. Medea swallowed. She straightened in her seat. But she didn't dare look them in the eye.

"I'm in love and... he proposed."

"Oh, Medea!" Celia jumped in her seat. Oh how she loved romances! "That's wonderful!"

Her parents looked more confused than excited. Bella was simmering in her seat.

"Do we know this boy?" said her father. His smile was unsure.

"Awfully rude not to ask your father's permission first," scoffed her mother. "Or even meet with us. What family is he from?"

Medea swallowed. Her hands were severely shaking. Celia couldn't understand why. She extended her hand once more to touch her sister but Medea only moved away.

Bella's eyes were coals. Her nails scraped against the tablecloth.

"His... his name is Edward Cox," said Medea.

Her mother's brows furrowed. "Cox?"

"Yes."

Her mother turned to their father. His smile was still on his face but his eyes looked haplessly lost. Medea took in a deep breath. She looked as if she was ready to shoot herself through the heart.

"He's a lawyer from Bath. His aunt owns a hat shop in the village."

Louder than thunder, sharper than lightning, Bella slapped Medea to the floor. It hadn't been like the petty slaps she gave Ryan and Dylan; it had been savage; it had been brutal. Blood spurted out of Medea's nose, her shock overpowered by Bella's screams, Celia's broken heart overpowered by her parent's confusion.

For a moment, the world felt disordered. It was only when the rain turned to hail that Celia realized it wasn't a moment, but four full hours. She sat, solitary and quiet, by the dinner table, unresponsive and blank.

The dining room was destroyed- the tablecloth on the floor, the cutlery smashed, the carpets stained- by the memory of the argument. Celia pushed the fragments to the back of her mind. It had been a dream, surely. It couldn't have been true. This was a nightmare and she was going to wake. Medea would be having breakfast with them in the morning, spooning honey into her porridge, while Bella would add four lumps of sugar to her cup of tea.

"- good riddance, you filthy little bitch! Good riddance-"

Celia ran out of the dining room. Medea was pulling a trunk towards the massive front doors. Bella was screaming at her from the staircase. Celia felt her heart shatter.

"Where are you going?" she asked helplessly. She trailed after her sister like a forgotten ghost. "Medea?"

"Get lost!" screeched Bella. "You whore! You cheating cow! You traitor!"

Bella threw a bottle at their heads. Medea ducked. The bottle shattered against the wallpaper, spraying putrid wine at their dresses, their skin and their hair. Medea wrenched open the door, gave one last look at Bella, then rushed out. Behind her, Bella howled. Celia ran after her sister.

"Medea!" her legs were unstable. Her skin was cold. "Medea, please!" she almost tripped. She kept her eyes on her sister's back. Her eyes were blurring. Her cheeks were hot. "Medea, stop! Please!"

"Go!" Bella was behind her. She threw another bottle. It missed Celia's head by an inch. "Wench! Slut!"

"Medea, please don't go!" Celia's squeaked. "Please! Please don't leave me."

Celia collapsed. Her knees scraped across the floor. Her stained dress tore. Shame. It had been new. It was the first time she had worn it. She loved cream and lace. She loved her sister. The very sister who didn't turn back. The very sister who kept walking away.

"Medea..." she breathed.

But all she saw was Medea's thick hair moving over tense shoulders. She heaved a trunk lighter than the weight of the burden she was leaving behind. When it was too dark to differentiate her sister from the shadows, Celia barely felt her heart beat again.

*

Ryan had his ear to the door of the study. He didn't necessarily need to. He could hear his mother just fine since she was screaming. But he did like the feeling of doing something bad.

"What is it?" asked Dylan.

Ryan turned to him, his face lit, his eyes bright, his smile daring. "Medea ran away."

Dylan looked aghast. Ryan looked elated. "Do you know what that means?"

"That we're never going to see her again?" said Dylan.

"That she's free," said Ryan smugly. He pressed his ear against the door. "One day, I'm going to run away too."

Dylan grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away. Ryan didn't think his brother ever had the strength.

His big eyes were doleful and desperate. "You're going to leave me?"

Ryan mussed his brother's hair. "Don't be silly, Dylan. We'll go together, obviously."

Dylan looked relieved, but that was short-lived. Worry crept back onto his face. "Do you think Celia's ok?"

Ryan shushed him. "I'm trying to listen."

*

He kissed her tear-filled eyes, her tear-stained cheeks and her tear-soaked hair. He kissed the tips of her fingers, the palm of her hand and the inside of her wrist. He kissed the underside of her neck, the sides of her mouth and her full, bitten lips.

"I love you," whispered Edward as he held her, as she cried. "I love you."

Medea hid her head against his chest and pressed her hands against his back. At last, they had ceased their trembling.