Chapter 53

7 months, 3 weeks, 6 days pregnant.

“Lady Lynette, I must ask that you turn back,” A stocky guard says gruffly as he blocks the duchess path with his body.

Lynette just smiles placidly up at him, “Good sir, I just wish to pass. I need to access the library in the east wing.”

“I cannot let you do that,” The royal guard replies back stonily, “Not without permission from Duke Valentine.”

“There are very important books I must have by the day's end,” Lynette says and raises her chin, “I cannot do my duties if I do not have them in my possession. Now, move aside,” The duchess tries to step around the guard, but her path is once again blocked.

“A servant can fetch these important books for you,” The guard states, “Do you wish for me to call for one?”

Lynette looks the guard up and down, her smile shrinking, “Not just anyone can lay eyes on such things. It has to be me and no other,” she says firmly.

The guard does not budge, staring at her silently.

Lynette straightens her back and her smile flatlines, “My husband is away. That means I am the sole person in charge of all the Valentine's Estate happenings until he gets back. No letter will come in time for me to get approval for him. This matter must be handled today,” She stares down her nose at the guard, “If you wish for me to leave and seek out the approval of the king himself, I will. But I am sure he will not be happy to be bothered by such a small matter that could be easily solved if only a little more thought was applied.”

The hall is silent for a moment. Lynette holds the guard's gaze, ticking a single eyebrow up.

The guard steps aside and inclines his head.

“As you wish, Lady Lynette, but I will have to escort you.”

Lynette’s placid smile smoothly rises on her face again, “Of course you do, good sir. Now, come along.”

The guard moves away from his post and falls into step behind her. His heavy footfalls and her lighter ones echo throughout the long gleaming halls of the Valentine Estate. They pass guard after royal guard, but Lynette pays them no mind. Pretending as if their existence in her house was a normal occurrence, even going so far as to smile benevolently at them, like a queen striding through a gilded hall.

Finally, they make it to the secondary library. As the guard opens the door for her, Lynette cast a quick glance around. The room was empty, save for one person.

Before the guard could stop her, Lynette swoops over and draws a thin shadow over the figure huddled over a book.

“Step-daughter,” She greets primly, causing Liliana to jump in startlement and lookup hastily as she closes the book on her fingers. The young girl lets out a pained yelp and jumps once more, banging her knee under the table in her hurry to stand up.

The duchess watches as her stepdaughter slowly composes herself.

“Mother,” Liliana greets after falling into a clumsy curtsy, “I did not hear you come in.” Her wide red eyes dart to the guard that was quickly approaching them and then back to the duchess. It takes a moment for the full situation to register as she cradles her hand and blinks rapidly.

“Wait,” She says, backing away slowly, “I thought you could not interact with us anymore...”

Because of all the horrible things you have done to Livia and I, Liliana does not say this out loud, but from the way her stepmother's face twitches, the words must have been written all over her own face. The young girl takes another step back.

Lynette follows, reaching out.

“Lady Lynette, stop,” The guard orders sternly, moving to close a rough hand on her shoulder.

But the duchess continues on until she is cradling her stepdaughter's hand, inspecting it idly even as Liliana flinches at her proximity. Lynette ignores this and pulls out a handkerchief.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding,” She states idly as she wraps the small hand up, “But it will likely bruise. Make sure you get it looked after properly, alright?” Then she looks around, her eyes dropping briefly down to the book.

“And where are your attendance, step-daughter?” Lynette questions even as the royal guard all but shove himself between them, forcing her back. The duchess tucks her hands in front of herself as if she had no problems with this at all and turns on her heel before looking over her shoulder at Liliana with a frown.

“You aren’t supposed to be wandering around on your own,” She scolds lightly as if it was just an ordinary day. As if nothing has changed. The duchess even inflicts a hint of care when she continues on to say, “Even inside the estate. You never know when you might grow weak and collapse.”

Liliana stares at her in disbelief, unable to answer.

Lynette sighs and shakes her head, “Well, I suppose you are at that age,” And then she looks Liliana up from the top of her head down to her feet.

Liliana resists squirming and hugging herself under the heavy scrutiny by curling her fingers into her skirts.

“Lady Lynette,” The royal guard calls, but the duchess just holds up her hand.

“Is that my daughter's old dress?” Lynette asks archly.

Liliana flushes, “Um...”

Lynette clicks her tongue, “Well, I suppose it looks well enough on you. A bit tight around the chest and hips, but then again, you always have been a bit pudgier than my Livia.”

Cat-like rose-colored eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes coated with black mascara did another once over of the girl before them, before red-painted lips pulled up in a mocking smirk.

“Especially now,” Lynette draws out, “You have become quite the healthy child, haven’t you? Running about like an oversized puppy. Stepdaughter, I must say, I do not think that dress is appropriate attire. You see how it flows and drapes just right? That dress is not meant for roughhousing. Then again, most dresses are not. Well, unless they were made for people of common birth...”

Like you...Lynette pulls out a black and red fan to cover her red, laughing mouth.

Liliana looks down at the dress Livia had given to her weeks ago. Her fingers curl up further into the soft fabric as her small frame begins to tremble all on its own.

“Oh dear, is there a draft?” Lynette looks up as if she could glimpse at the supposed air current, “Are you feeling cold, step-daughter?”

“Lady Lynette, I thought you must gather important books in this library. But if that is not to be the case, I must ask that you leave the east wing immediately,” The royal guard states, moving between the two once more and turning so his back was to Liliana, hiding her small frame entirely with his own.

Lynette begins to fan her face as she only sighs and turns away, “Very well. Come along, then. The books I need are in the back,” She takes a few steps forward, and glances over her shoulder.

The guard was still blocking the duchesses view, but she could make out wavy, snowy hair just over his shoulder. Her expression is back to being mild, but she does make sure to leave with one last comment.

“Step-daughter?”

Liliana does not lookup.

Lynette smiles and points her fan to the abandoned book on the table, the one which broadcasts it the subject of ghost and possession in large gold lettering.

“I do suggest you stay away from such readings in the near future. I am sure you are bored, as you usually become with that short attention span of yours, but I know your father would not be pleased if he were to find out you were reading up on such subjects. I do recommend you put that away and spend your time doing more productive things. Such as practicing the proper way to curtsy.”

When Liliana does not respond to the duchess's words as she would have liked, she presses the matter.

“Maybe ask my Livia to teach you?” Lynette proposes lightly.

Liliana flinches at the name.

Lynette hides a cruel smile behind her fan, while her rose eyes widen, feigning innocents, “Hmm? What a strange response. And towards your beloved sisters' name. Could it be? Are you two not on speaking terms? How is that so? I thought you two would always be together, that you two would never separate.”

Liliana practically curls upon herself as her own arms come up to provide comfort.

Lynette just hums, “Well, I suppose that is to be expected. It’s only normal that half-sisters will grow up and apart. Especially after everything my Livia has been through.” The duchess turns, and her dress whispers across the floor with a smooth and elegant motion.

“I best be going. It wouldn’t do to violate your father's orders any more than I have,” she says despite taking all her time to do exactly that.

When Lynette leaves the library, she is irritated to see her stepdaughter back in the seat she had vacated, reading through the book she had told her not to while stubbornly ignoring her presence.

This time, when the duchess tried to approach the girl once more, the guard intervened and firmly steered her away and straight out the door. His dark shadow did not leave Lynette's side until she was completely out of the East Wing of the Valentine Estate, giving her no room to slip away or run her mouth again, much to her great irritation.

8 Months Pregnant.

Lynette makes a show of calmly gathering up all the most recent letters filled with rejected invites, and even her owns that had been returned, unopened, and standing up from her vanity.

“Lady Lynette?” Rinnty and Tinnty call out to her at the same time in confusion.

“I cannot bear to look upon these a second longer,” Lynette says in ways of an explanation and stalks outside of her room. Her two loyal maids quickly follow after her.

“My lady, please, let us carry those for you,” Rinnty pleads as she picks up her skirt to better follow Lynette’s pace.

“Yes, my lady, we can get rid of those for you,” Tinnty agrees, and shares a look with her twin sister.

“No need,” Lynette dismisses them. She makes a sharp turn and begins to head down.

The twin sisters' eyes widen when they realize they were heading towards the main kitchen, but they were not taking the path the Valentine family usually did. They were walking the plain and simple halls where the servants of the estate passed through unseen.

Many such servants come to a full stop to stare as their duchess passes them by without a backward glance, their mouths flapping open.

“It is here, I believe,” Lynette mutters to herself and makes another turn, disappearing into an open room.

The clangs of metal pans, the bubbling of soups and the sound of vegetables and fruits being chopped on a wooden board almost comes to a complete stop when the duchess steps through.

She gives the main kitchen a cursory glance before her eyes land on the stone oven ablaze with fire. A cook had his back turned to her and was taking out a plump piece of bread.

Lynette puts on a bright smile and orders, “Please, do not let me stop you from your work. Continue on.” To the room which resumes only when her sharp rose eyes land on the chef, who promptly urges his worker to do as their duchess says.

Ignoring the many eyes on her, Lynette sashays forward and bends down to inspect the now empty oven.

“My lady,” Tinnity calls out, hovering a little further into the room. Her sisters stand further ahead of her, wringing out her hands and looking distressed.

Lynette ignores them.

“Such a beautiful flame,” she compliments, and then she promptly dumps all the letters inside the stone oven, watching as the fire begins to brown and eat at the paper greedily and become bigger in size.

The duchess straightens and calmly dusts off her hands even as her maids rush to her side and the main kitchen once again comes to a standstill. Just as Lynette was about to make some glib comment and leave, feeling refreshed, another servant steps through the door.

Honey gold and poisonous rose meet across the kitchen.

“Well,” Lynette purrs, stalking forward, “If it isn’t my Livia’s personal attendant and midwife.”

Beth only blinks serenely at her.

“Lady Lynette, it has been a while,” she greets and bows elegantly even while holding a silver tray.

Lynette stares down at the small height distance between them, an arrogant smile on her face.

“Indeed, it has been,” She says, “I was so disappointed to hear you could not have tea with me in the garden this afternoon. Especially when I went through all that effort to call you forth.”

“It was unfortunate timing,” Beth says simply, and walks around the duchess to deposit her empty tray.

Lynette follows the movement, spinning on her heel, and crossing her arms under her bosom, “But it seems you are not busy at the moment, are you dear?” She calls out.

Beth unloads the tray and places it to be cleaned before she straightens and turns back around with her signature mild smile, “It seems that Lady Livia has no need of me at the moment, yes.”

Lynette smirks, “Then, I suppose you just have to join me on a walk in my personal gardens. I was just heading that way,” She turns around without waiting for a response and heads straight out the kitchen.

Once the duchess and her two maids were out of earshot, the collective room let out a breath.

“I don’t see how you do it, Miss Beth,” The head chef says as he comes over. He dabs at his forehead with a cloth and shakes his head, “The duchess has been pestering you almost constantly, but somehow you still manage to keep your composure and reject her commands.”

Beth's smile widens, “Lady Lynette is indeed a challenging woman to navigate, but I have a lot of experience with such ladies of high standing,” she says.

“Still,” A woman says, stirring a pot of bubbling soup, “It is very impressive. I always freeze up when I catch a glimpse of her. I don’t wish to gain her attention in any way. Most who do end up fired, or worse.”

Beth just shrugs and folds her hands in front of her, “Well, I must be going. I must not keep the duchess waiting long,” she says before leaving the kitchen. There was not an ounce of tension in her face or shoulders even though the midwife was willingly walking into a lioness den.

The greenhouse around them was beautiful in the afternoon light, sparkling with fresh droplets of water. With the glimmering leaves of healthy green and vibrant colors of all sorts of flowers, it was truly a place to walk and admire the captured and domesticated nature.

“How goes my daughter?” Lynette asks the moment the midwife falls in step behind her.

“She is well, my lady,” Beth answers, her tone perfectly respectful.

The younger woman had known for some time that this confrontation was going to happen, as did Livia, but the both of them had gleefully kept putting it off to the mounting frustration of the Valentine Duchess.

Now that it has finally come to pass, Beth knew exactly what to say, and what not to. She also had plenty of excuses to cut the interrogation short and make a hasty retreat just in case the duchess tried anything.

It never hurt to be over-prepared, Beth recalls Livia saying on multiple occasions.

“She is well...” Lynette mocks, reaching out to pluck off a petal on a blooming flower, “If my daughter is so well, then why has she been holed up in her room for days without stepping foot outside of it? Why has she refused to visit her own mother for weeks despite my multiple summonses?” She destroys the soft petal in between her slim fingers before releasing it to fall to the ground.

Beth watches its descent, a frown threatening to tug on the ends of her lips. She had been warned. By Livia, Amaya, and even Sen, but it was not until now that Beth has witness firsthand the mad gleam in those rose eyes. To hear the words that fall freely from the duchess lips as if there was nothing wrong with them.

She was also not surprised to know that the duchess had servants keep an eye on the east wing.

“My poor Livia,” Lynette croons, staring sadly down at the fallen petal, “She must be so lost without her mother to guide her. So ashamed.”

Beth's hands clasp tighter together. “Ashamed?” She echoes and cannot tell if she managed to keep the disapproval of that word from her own voice.

Lynette throws out her hands and smiles, “Of course! It is the only logical explanation. She does not wish to be seen in her current state. It is why she has rejected all visits and invitations. My Livia, my poor little girl. She should not have to endure such humiliation alone. She should know that with my help, all will be well.”

Lynette stands there, grinning at herself, before her expression changes. Her back straightens, her smile dims, and her eyes lose the haze in them, sobering up.

“And what of the pregnancy?” She asks, staring at Beth with a sudden intensity.

Beth's waning smile returns, “It is progressing well. The baby is healthy and-”

“What of my Livia?” Lynette cuts her off, her eyes narrowing, “How heavy has it burdened her body?”

Beth's growing smile shrinks, “I am sorry, my lady, I do not know what you mean...”

Lynette sneers, “Of course you do. My Livia is young. Too young. If the pregnancy is too taxing, if any complications arise, my Livia will not survive the birth. And you, as well as I know that bringing a child into this world is the most difficult and lethal thing a woman could ever do. Many things could go wrong. Many things will go wrong.”

“Now,” Lynette turns so she fully faces Beth, “be honest. How is my Livia?”

Beth stares at her a moment too long before she gathers herself. She brushes down her skirts and raises her chin, a grim look on her face.

“Lady Livia is a bit small,” Beth admits.

Lynette nods readily, “Of course she is.” Then she pauses, “Or she was. My Livia has gained so much weight as of late. Fat that hangs off her arms and builds in her thighs. ”

Beth fights off a scowl. Honestly, this woman. Instead of being so hypercritical, shouldn’t the duchess just be happy that her daughter has returned to her? And if Beth remembers, Livia had been underweighted when she first met the young woman on that wagon. Barely any meat had been on her bones.

If anything, Lady Livia was healthier than she had ever been in her whole life. Now a bit plump with the proper amount of muscle and fats and on a perfectly nutritious diet.

And what was with this ‘My Livia’ business? It was like the duchess has completely forgotten who has stripped her of her rights to her only daughter. Beth was not sure if she should include the oddly possessive term when she reported back to Lady Livia. The young woman had enough on her plate as it is. She did not need the extra stress. But Beth knew Livia had an insight that she lacked. It was better to retain the detail. It might be important in the end.

Beth takes in a small subtle breath and releases it after holding it for five seconds. She needed to keep her calm.

“When I said small,” Beth begins, “I meant her figure. As you have mentioned, Lady Livia has not fully developed, but she is as healthy as she could be. My concern is regarding the child. He, along with his mother, is flourishing.”

Lynette's rose eyes widen slightly, “He?” she whispers.

Beth smiles, “Yes. Lady Livia is having a son.”

Lynette presses a hand to her chest, and turns away, staring at the blooming flowers rising up to greet her. Her long fingers brush along the soft petals. Her eyes catch sight of the buds that have yet to blossom, almost hidden entirely from her view.

“A son...” She repeats in wonder.

Beth stays silent but takes in the reaction. Where those...tears in those rose like eyes?

Lynette suddenly reaches out and crushes the bud in her fingers, ripping it off the stem. Her face mouth twits into a thin smile as that haze fall over her eyes.

“So delicate,” She murmurs, “Life, that is.” Lynette once again lets the remains of a flower fall to the floor. Her black heels step on the bud, grounding it further into the stone path.

“And do you know what else is delicate?” The duchess asks, stepping forward.

Beth does not back away, even when Lynette only stops until only inches separate them, her rose eyes unblinking.

“No, I do not, my lady,” she replies calmly, tilting her neck up to retain eye contact.

“My Livia,” Lynette sobs, and grabs Beth's shoulders, “My sweet baby girl!”

“The baby is too big,” the duchess guesses, and shakes the midwife, “That was what you were going to say, weren’t you? He is healthy, which means he is growing, but my Livia is still growing as well. How could she give birth to something that is too big?”

Beth is not smiling anymore.

“My lady,” She tries, but Lynette ignores her.

“This pregnancy will rip my sweet child apart! Won’t it!?” Lynette shakes her again, her long nails digging into Beth's shoulders as her hazy eyes bore into honey gold.

“The baby is healthy,” Beth repeats, “And he is a bit bigger than I had expected, however, his weight is perfectly normal for a woman of Lady Livia’s size. If anything, compared to an adult woman, his weight is a bit under, which is common for a younger mother.”

Lynette stops shaking her, buts he does not remove her hands from Beth's shoulders.

“What are her chances of survival?” the duchess asks plainly.

“Ninety percent,” Beth states confidently.

Lady Livia was a strong woman. The midwife wished she got a bit more sleep and sun, but otherwise, she was fine. Beth kept careful watch over her with her trained eyes, taking note of things even when Lady Livia refused to voice them. She was sure the young mother would survive the birth. Any difficulties that might spring up between now and until the birth, she would handle.

Beth refuses to see another mother and child perish during childbirth. She had pushed herself to her limits so she never would. She even touched upon a few abandoned arts, courtesy of her grandmother.

Livia and the baby will survive.

Beth had made a vow to herself, and she fully intended to see it fulfilled.

“There is still a ten percent chance that she will not,” Lynette snaps, pushing her away. She bites at her own thumb, turning and mumbling to herself.

Beth pats down her skirt and straightens her sleeves, before clasping her hands in front of herself. She looks through the clear panels of the greenhouse, noting the position of the sun behind plump grey clouds.

“My lady, is there anything else you wish to talk about?” She asks, mentally taking a step back. Her words were not getting through. Beth could tell that much. She might as well have been talking to empty air, as Lynette will only hear whatever she wished.

To think, Lady Livia had grown up with such a woman as her mother. Beth did not even humor the idea that Lynette had a role in raising the young woman. If anything, she only helped Lady Livia learn how to survive on her own. The thought was not one that brought her any comfort.

The duchess cuts her hand through the air, “You are dismissed, midwife. Return to caring for my daughter,” she orders coldly before disappearing further into the greenhouse.

Beth keeps her head lowered until she does before she turns on her heel and quickly leaves. Just as she does, she passes one of Lynette’s twin maids.

Rinnty, she thinks it was. Her honey eyes fall on the eager face and the letter the maid clutches in her hand like a lifeline just before she turns a corner.