0.1 | No Exit from Deception ✓

0.26 | Ze'Drama, Act II, Scene I

No expression of horror or subjected guiltiness hinged around her actions. She began unfolding her sleeves as casually as she used to do while scouring the burned remnants of omelet on a pan in Joseph's kitchen, returning to the minefield after cleaning her hands that were merely tainted in crimson to an inch's length.

She halted momentarily. It was odd. She tilted her head pensively and wrinkled her nose. It was surely not the smell of a charred omelet. Then, what was burning out there and polluting the air exactly?

It was the heated, surveying pupils of the kindreds noting the slightest swirl of her silk shirt as she moved along, to the way her eyes captured her surrounding, only to furnish a statement about her fake identity to Mrs Warner.

Joseph lowered his eyebrows in a quizzical frown, sighing. Now, what is she up to? He thought and reached the verge of something called a stalemate. Having no personal loss didn't make it easier for him either since had had a responsibility to send her back to her rented room safely, if this plan failed, which was most likely to happen. He had already attested his inner thoughts and accepted his defeat. Let's go now before they take any legal action against her.

Somewhere in the crevices of her mind, the idea came to her. The idea of not hiding her light under a bushel. Or in other words, the magic of her extraordinary tale-telling that had even fascinated Joseph. Hence,
it was the right time to take Mrs Warner in her confidence.

Let the show begin!

Armed with grace and courage, Ruby turned up at the nearest lady. Plagued as she was after seeing no changes in the old woman's face, this motor mouth prole AKA Ruby's heart jumped up to her throat.

A quick flash of pictures of people holding important positions and their major roles in the mansion, that she had been made to learn struck through her head. She rewound her syllabus hastily in her head just like a poor student rummaging through some important questions before taking the exam.

Yes. It is Mary, a rigid seventy-five-year-old housekeeper, short heightened, with an exacting standard of living. In her active days, she used to hone the elements of discipline not just only in the workers, but that applied to the other members of the mansion.

Ruby held the old woman's not-so-wrinkled hands and fawned over her, "Are you aging in reverse, Mary? Evergreen beauty as they say. You have taught me what discipline means in life from a very young age, and I consider myself fortunate enough to be raised under your guidance for those remarkable five years."

Then, I planted a small kiss on her hand.

"You look much prettier," the sharp words somehow didn't sound so much prettier from Mary's mouth.

Anyways, Ruby nodded after receiving that compliment. Well, forced-out-statement.

She took a long step and stopped before a man who stood next to Mary. He looked like a typical specimen of a philosopher pulled out of the Renaissance period. With bushy black eyebrows and a Dutch beard. He had white hair that spoke out loud about his experience with life. He was wearing a pitch-dark overcoat with a gray pair of pegged pants.

"Anthony Brown-- our sixth maths tutor, if my Archimedes is still alive." She gave her tight-lipped smile and glimpsed at his figure admiringly as if he was someone very close to her.

"You have hit the nail on the head," he replied positively.

"It's surprising enough to see you continue after such a long time. I remember how I fooled you once by showing some other day's homework in the present time, and you gave me a punishment in the form of ten math workbooks to ruin my summer vacation."