Bride Behind the Mask

Chapter 7: The Heroine (Part 1 of 2)

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Chapter 7: The Heroine (Part 1 of 2)

The first weeks of autumn came and passed, and still there was no sign, no word, of Drake. In Steersberg Manor, servants busied about as usual, seemingly accustomed to their lord's prolonged absence. Even with Amelia's deliberate resistance, life in Steersberg quickly settled into a rhythm.

In a deep blue wool cape that tailor-master Gilios made for her just the day before, Amelia danced through the manor's quiet hallways, letting the cape flutter behind her like a gentle wave. Once she finally came to grips with Drake's departure, the ridiculous wigs and dresses were cast aside, stashed back into the trunks she brought from home. There was no point inflicting pain upon oneself knowing it was for naught. Not only did she regain lightness in her steps and copious wasted time in the day, the glances she received from men, women and children alike were now filled with more admiration than distanced reverence.

"Good morn, m'lady!" the groundskeepers greeted cheerfully as she appeared in the courtyard and skipped down the stone steps.

"Good morn, Anton, Leon." Amelia smiled to the men who paused in their grass-trimming to wave their hats at her. "How is your daughter, Tomas?" she enquired of the silver-haired groundskeeper whose young daughter was born with weak lungs.

As Amelia came to a brief halt before Tomas, he bowed deeply, an arm clasped over his heart in a show of respect. "She is well, m'lady. My wife and I cannot begin to express our gratitude to you."

A few sennights ago, she'd overheard Tomas' desperate request to William for advance wages to afford medicine for his daughter, whose condition had worsened with the onset of the cool autumn season. Though William had approved the request, she grabbed two handfuls of mullein and dried viola flowers from Sven's stash (despite his weak protest against the 'theft') and stuffed them into Tomas' arms. Tomas had, quite rightly, been rather perplexed until she told him to brew the herbs into a tea for his daughter.

"There's no need for this, Tomas," she said with a wave of her hand. "You should bring her here sometime so I can see she is well."

"Will do, m'lady." He bowed again as Amelia walked by joyously with a bounce in her footsteps and a tuneless hum.

She had kept herself occupied with work, for when her limbs were busy it was easier for her mind to dwell on things other than her fruitless plans to return home. Now that most of the fruits and vegetables were preserved, and the herbs of Sven's garden dried and ground to powder, she immersed herself in the exploration of Steersberg—or rather, the Steersberg markets.

Unlike the markets of Lyons and Port Caynns, where the smell of freshly baked pastries battled daily with the perpetual stench of faeces, the Steersberg marketplace was always filled with exotic scents she could not name. And thus each day was a discovery of foreign fragrances, incenses, fruits and herbs from all parts of the Northern Lands and yonder. 

Much of Amelia's time at the markets was spent in the Elen Lane, a wide street that housed all the fabric and apparel stalls, including the famous Rohan Silk House. Embarrassed by the 'accident' she once caused at the silk house in order to irritate Drake, she did her best to avoid returning to that large establishment that took up almost a third of the street.

Instead, she befriended Mistress Perryn of Emerald Boutique, which specialises in wool. To all who asked out of interest, the story was that wool was more befitting for a Southern lady who had not yet adapted to the colder climate. In truth, however, frequenting her husband's rival enterprise somewhat soothed her aggravation with his unexplained departure.