THE PAST
The noble kids giggled behind the bushes, hunched over and watching. Little Valerie turned to a nervous boy. He was trembling and flushed, nose running endlessly. He was the son of a lord who wanted favour from the Verbena household.
The doe-like, angelic face of Valerie smiled at the boy. "You said you want to be officially a part of us. This is your chance." She pointed above the bushes to the sight of a lone girl sitting atop a picnic blanket having tea. Lucinda's long black hair cascaded down her back in dark waves.
She was having a lone tea party with no friends. "D-don't you think there's… ah—another way?" Dane stammered, badly scared of the detached girl whose gaze was dark.
In front of him, Valerie's face twisted into an ugly scowl—a sight so unusual to her past countenance. She rested a heavy, small hand on his quaking shoulder. He clutched the small gardener's scissors to his chest, thrown off by the angel of the Verbena household's sudden change in character.
She looked down at him like he was horse shit on her shoes. "Don't think I'm a fool. You only want to be friends with me to secure your father's connections." It wasn't unusual for nobles to use their spawn to curry favour from higher-ups' children in hopes of securing better business relationships and alliances.
"If you wanna help dear papa, you better do what I say. Or I can ruin your life to the likes of my stepsister over there." She jerked her chin to Lucinda, but Dane didn't dare follow for fear of her swallowing his head like the snake she was. The other kids glanced at each other worriedly for a moment.
"Do you want to be Lucinda's friend?" His gaze flickered to the kids behind him, who avoided his gaze in disinterest. He was still a nobody. His family's fortune, rapidly declining, left him at the bottom of the ranks regardless of his father's title.
He faced her and shook his head.
"Good!" Valerie suddenly beamed, surprising him. Getting his bearings in the confusion, he clutched the tool tighter and braced himself.
"Remember…" Valerie whispered before he could cross over the bush, "if you get caught, do not mention my name." She seemed to brood it over. "Even if you do, no one would believe you." Dane's big, glossy eyes widened as the other kids giggled. He bobbed his head rapidly like a bobble doll and ran away, toppling into the bushes before scurrying back up.
Lucinda had noticed the child trying to creep up behind her. He was terrible at it. She internally sighed, already exhausted by the ensuing drama.
"Not so much brain as earwax," she mumbled over her teacup.
She knew who he was. And knew his purpose for trailing behind Valerie. She wouldn't fault him. It wasn't the child's fault what he had been forced into by his father. She had seen the man harshly warn his son of his purpose from the first day he set foot on the grounds, and each time he was dropped off by the father. She decided to make it easier on him to back off. When he was close enough to hear her, she sang softly with an eerie tone, stroking her ceramic doll replica:
"I have a deadly nightshade." The boy jumped, not expecting her voice even though it only carried between them. "So twisted does it grow… with berries black as midnight." He froze in stance a few steps behind her. "And a skull as white as snow.
The vicar's cocky young son came to drink my tea," she took a deliberate sip, "he touched me without asking, now he's buried 'neath a tree."
The boy jumped back in fright as the words registered.
Lucinda dropped her doll carefully and stood. He crept back as she took a step forward, and she could feel her sister's agitated glare in the bushes.
She crept closer and this time he stood. Seeing him well in the foggy morning, she furrowed her brows. His clothes were in disarray. He had on different-colored socks and a mismatching jacket to his clothes. Her face couldn't help but twist at his fashion disaster. Her nose wrinkled as a stench from him reached her.
The boy thought of it as the character he expected from the cold-hearted sister. He tucked his chin up, putting on a brave front, and it almost made Lucinda chuckle.
She dug her hand into her pocket. The boy didn't know how her hand disappeared beneath her dress. Lucinda had sewn her own pockets, displeased they were only in men's attire. Dane's eyes widened in wonder at first, but as she jerked her hand away, he quickly covered his face, preparing to be attacked.
Lucinda stared blankly at the gardener's tool now framing his face. She stepped closer and, with a few spurts, sprayed her small perfume on him.
Much better. Dane uncovered his face, feeling no assault, to see the first daughter so close to him now. She was a tall girl, towering over him a few inches. He almost asked what she did until he smelled a sweet, floral, earthy musk on himself. His eyes zeroed in on the perfume bottle she was tucking away.
"All eyes and no sight. Am I not before you?" Her gaze flicked to the tool, daring him.
"You need a backbone," she poked him coldly on the forehead. "The way you dress is the way you shall be addressed. If you want respect, firstly paint it on your skin with your clothes." Before he could stammer out a reply, they heard a startled shout.
"Ah! Dane, what are you doing?! That's a dangerous weapon. Stay away from my sister." Little Valerie, now impatient, walked to them with her followers trailing after her.
Lucinda gave her a pointed look to say she wasn't buying it.
Lucinda turned to her stepsister. "The idol of idiot-worshippers."
Valerie's face crumbled, looking hurt. "But sister, I was just looking out for you."
Lucinda smiled coldly. "Or were you making sure your follower did your bidding?" Lucinda glanced back at Dane before facing Valerie again.
"Don't be a tongue-tied babbling gossip, sis—" Before anyone could react, Lucinda felt a tight tug on her hair and a heavy snap slice through the air.
Shocked, tiny gasps filled the air as a huge chunk of Lucinda's hair fell to the ground. Lucinda slowly turned to see Dane with a fistful of her hair. As if realizing what he had done, he let it fall as he jumped back.
His frightful gaze flickered between the two stepsisters, growing more panicked at Lucinda's motionless assessment of him and Valerie's silently pleased smile.
Then Lucinda marched forward. "Wait—I'm sorry, I just did—" She ripped the scissors out of his hand, and a pin-drop silence ensued in the natural winds.
A horrified shriek echoed so loud the birds from distant trees flew away. Valerie's golden waves were on the wet grass. Lucinda had chopped off Valerie's hair.
The other kids started screaming and crying as Valerie lay in the pool of her once full golden locks.
"Highly fed and lowly taught. The leader shall pay for the subordinate's misdeeds."
Dane stared at Lucinda, wide-eyed, and was horrified to notice a horizontal line of blood soaking down her back from below her neck where her hair now stopped in uneven strands. He had done this. And as the distant sound of the adults, alarmed and making their way to them, drew nearer, something told him Lucinda would not be seen to.
He knew he may have won the favour of Valerie. But at what cost?
PRESENT
Lucinda walked past the servants, who gazed at her in admiration. They had all heard what had transpired two days ago, and they held her with worship in their eyes. Their new mistress was a lady that didn't take misdeeds lightly. She had walked through fire. She killed assassins. Poisons didn't work on her. Her stare could read your mind.
"I heard she fought for the custody of her child and won. Something never done."
"I heard she's a charming witch that entrapped our master."
"Charming, yes, but not a witch. And it is rather true that our master is entranced with her. Have you seen the way he looks at her?"
"Did you see the way she defended the little master? Oh, I've never seen a lady so fierce before."
"I feel bad for our poor little master. That governess was indeed the true witch. Who could hit such a sweet boy?"
"Remember how he carried her into the mansion that first day? He was beside himself with worry. I swooned."
"The mother and son have the greenest of eyes. They look like royalty!"
"Don't you think she's strange? Her features are so sharp and intimidating."
"It's your jealousy speaking, hun. Her beauty is so striking it's intimidating. Don't be like the socialite ladies. I always hated those doe looks anyway. They be pushing it at thirty!"
For every malice, there was praise. She was held in high regard among the servants already, and they didn't let the rumours of the high society corrupt their view of their mistress. It made them wonder if they were also wrong about the master—the Viscount. But when they recounted his blood-stained forms and the glint in his eyes sometimes carried even amid his carefree exterior and charming display, they couldn't help but still be wary of him.
Different rumours had sprung up about her old deeds, mixed with exaggeration and sugar-coated lies. The estate seemed to have been buzzing with new discoveries at every moment, and the servants ate it up. Their life with their new mistress and child was indeed eventful.