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Bath Of Death

[MATURED CONTENTS] 'If this polluted WORLD yields to be clean and justifiable, I'll become the WORLD itself and make them bow to I, Harriet' ~~~ Harriet Hawthorn. ------ "Even in death, you are to become my bride. If you disappear, I'll become darkness for you and bring you back. This is my vow - to you, my love" He had proclaimed sincerely as he watched her pale smile. She was yet to speak when a twist from her stomach attacked her. She held his passionate eyes, and there it was, her bitter smile - one that spoke of pain. She had wanted to speak, and the moment that happened, a puddle of blood escaped her lips. "I love you" And there she fell. ---- A land that grooms skeletons in the face of death. Nobility and prejudice ruling over fairness. A land where aristocracy baths on the weakness of the upper class. The creatures bathed in the cloth of debauchery. Being towed from a baker's daughter to the stepchild of a noble Lord, then to a bandit. Harriet had fairly understood the world of her land. A place that stepped on the loyalty of the feeble and chewed their spirits. Harriet knew she could not stop the discrimination. The only form to live was to play mind games and pretend to be blind. In between her journey, she enters the House of Oregano. A house bathed with sinful beasts. She had intended to just win their trust, trample upon it and leave herself in jeopardy. Sadly for her, on the first day into the house, she had unknowingly bathed herself with trouble when not just one, or two, but three foolproof red eyes erred to liberate her from their bondage. Harriet must build herself and get revenge for all of the deaths caused by these so-called creatures. But when a certain bridge is preventing her from that? She must face the consequences of her actions. ---- Please add to your libraries. One chapter per day. NOTE: THE COVER ISN'T MINE. CREDIT TO THE CREATOR.

Rainism_11 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
79 Chs

The Lord's Step-daughter- Part Two

In the capital of Aetherwatch.

The peaceful and eerie street was stacking pieces of paper exquisitely on the cobblestones when a wavered footstep was heard. A man wearing an ilk of military uniform and an indigo satchel around his chest ambled down the street. His hair was black, and so were his eyes. He stopped in front of a large mansion.

The man became weary as he stopped at a distance from the mansion and pulled out a card from the satchel, before dumping it into the red postbox connected to the ground and scurrying away in the blink of an eye. It was as if he was trying to take himself out of trouble, or the mansion was trouble itself.

A few minutes later, the main bell of the mansion rang. A man was sharp to escape the door of the mansion. This man's hair was made into a braided queue. He wore a white neckstock around his inlet. He wore a waistcoat over a linen shirt, and a silk knee breeches with fall-front fastening and stockings. A double-breasted frock coat with a stand and fall collar donned the front. He had a long black hat over the top of his head and was wearing polished black buckled leather shoes. His face was older than expected. He scrawled lowly at the emptiness outside the street and shifted his weight to leave.

Later, he remembered the letter his Lord had been waiting for. Dutifully, the man came onward to the post box, his face scarier than when it hadn't been shown properly. Reaching the box, he pulled out a bunch of silvery keys from the pocket of his trouser and bit by bit, clicked each key with the lock until one finally fit. Opening the box, he stretched a gloved hand into it and picked up a single card with shabby handwriting written at the bottom. Returning the lock to the box and sealing it, the man snorted deeply as the keys in his hand fell to the ground. As he bent over, he heard the rolling wheels of a carriage passing by.

"Ah, Butler Timothy, hope your afternoon has been great?" The butler's ears perked up and stared dryly at the cheeky smile of the coachman sitting in the front of the carriage he heard. The butler recognized this person but was succinct to ignore them and walk back to the house like he had encountered a fly.

The coachman clicked his tongue as he sucked on his teeth, feeling humiliated.

"This house gives me the creep!!" The coachman said and left.

Meanwhile, inside the mansion, the butler walked down the corridors where candles were on stands and lit to brighten the place. His footsteps were light making him unexplainably invisible in the corridor. The butler eventually suspended his feet in front of a double door. Knocking and asking for permission to join from his Lord, he was fast to oblige.

"How did my letter go?" A man was backing the butler. There was a cigar in between the fingers of his left hand in which the smoke blurred the room, but due to his clear vision and hearing, the butler stared at the back of his Lord. The Lord was wearing a blue shirt and black trousers, with his right hand tucked into its pocket.

"Wonderful my Lord, the receiver cares to send the response very fast. Here my Lord, the letter" The Butler stepped forward and pushed the card to the desk of the Lord.

Lord Frank smirked as he found this amusing.

"Really? She sent her response. Oh, how I adore this wife!" He laughed terribly. His copper-brown eyes were glinting with danger and fire as he turned to take the letter. Just as he thought of gathering the written sheet from the insides, he hesitated.

"Butler Timothy, wouldn't it be too boring if I read this news on my own? Don't you think? So why don't you read it to me? I'd like to hear from another lip but refrain from displeasing me with your retard remarks" Lord Frank chuckled devilishly. He was loving this. This humor!!

Butler Timothy bowed respectfully and collected the letter. He separated the folded sheet and began to read, in his dry tone of voice.

"To the murderer of my beloved!!" The butler began, which Lord Frank grinned to with a comment "Interesting, go on" he had said.

"For a murderer to think I'd accept his proposal?

Isn't that too easy?

Be the mother of your children? Oh, grace me with your fangs then, and take out all of my blood, and suck them dry.

But, I, Marinette would never enter the house of a bloodsucker, or even think of becoming his wife.

Never!!"

Done, the butler tucked the sheet back, waiting for his Lord's successive order.

To have the woman brought here by force or have her head instead? Either way, he was ready.

Lord Frank rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. He pinched the cigar into the ashtray that was on the desk, with an austere expression.

"Timothy, Isn't she more fitted into the family? Don't you admire her nastiness?" Lord Frank questioned the butler, who by far came off to have no reply to that question.

"You are boring" The Lord groaned "Write me another letter, but this time, make sure it is convincing enough about the depth of my feelings for her. Make her want to marry me! Leave"

The butler looked away blankly and was absent from the room. Lord Frank watched the sunlight crawl through the window in his study room. He was deep in thought as the event on that day he was made to marry Lady Rosie flew back to his memory. It always did.

To remember how that foolish baker was going on hands and knees for his mercy. He was adamant to have Marinette become his wife at all costs.

"Daddy, Daddy" Lord Frank heard the cry of his youngest child. He immediately disappeared from the room and found the girl holding her doll with tears coursing down her eyes in the living room.

"Emine, what made you unhappy again?" The man asked worriedly. His daughter was his princess and the love of his life. Anything bothering her, also bothered him.

Little Emine sulked as she threw the doll to the ground and cried in her father's embrace "Where's the new mother? You told me I'll get a new mother that will play doll with me, but she isn't here. Daddy, did you lie to me?" The child asked prettily.

"Daddy will never do that. Be patient my dear. It will pay off very soon" The man kissed his daughter's hair with a creepy smile that moved slowly to his lips.

Very soon. You don't have to wait for a long time anymore.

--------------------

Back in the main town of Aetherwatch.

"Mama, Mama... Pixie, pixie" Little Harriet was running to the house. She looked everywhere for her mother but couldn't find her. Her face flushed bitterly as she remembered her donkey, laying breathless on the ground.

"Mama, I am scared. My Pixie will die, where are you?"

*THUD*

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A/N

The little home of Harriet and her mother is in this comment box. You can go take a look and comment on it. If loved, please like.

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