9 The Evil: She Who Speaks Through Riddles (1)

Present Day: January 9th, 1941 (Part 1)

----Five Nights Ago: January 4th, 1941 (12:58 P.M)

Despite the unfiltered sunlight pouring through the transparent silk curtains, the chamber was barren of life.

Servants in intricate yet plain black gowns and porcelain-white faceless masks that covered the entire upper half of the wearer's face stood at each corner of the room. They stood still in perfect silence, their back as straight as a wooden board, not daring to move a single muscle.

If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of their chest, anyone would have mistaken them for human-sized dolls.

At the center of all this, a blindfolded woman with straight, onyx-colored hair sat before a large vanity, maidservants all around her.

If she were from the capital, she surely would have been deemed the most beautiful woman of the century despite how she was visually impaired, a trait that is mostly looked down upon by the upper class.

For a while, they continued on with their usual routine.

Two maidservants flanked by her left, fixing and doing her hair, and two other maidservants on her right, adjusting her gown and touching up her appearance.

"My lady, indigo is truly your color," A maidservant complimented, tightening her corset.

"She's right, my lady. You look wonderful," another maidservant chimed in.

The blindfolded woman noted where the voices came from.

"Thank you," She said, feeling the soft fabric against her skin and the occasional touch of rough and scarred skin against her exposed back.

Amongst her personal maidservants, only Lucie had such hands; her flesh marred beyond saving as a result of being burned by scorching hot water.

Hence the first speaker was definitely her, and the second speaker was likely Darcy as she wore a ring on her right ring finger. Amongst her personal servants, only two were married. The former was on leave; therefore the second speaker had to be Darcy.

"My lady, has something happened?" Lucie asked. "If it's those… pests, you can leave it to us. There is no need to leave the mountain for menial work such as this— my lady, you don't have to sully your hands like this."

In response, she only shook her head and waved for another maidservant. "I appreciate your concern, Lucie. However, this is something you cannot interfere in."

Lucie froze and then lowered her head, bowing. "I apologize for my speaking out of line, my lady."

"You may leave for the night," The blindfolded woman sighed. Then, she turned to the maidservant she had previously called for. "Alphonse, has he responded to my letter yet?"

"Yes, my lady, Sir Alphonse has responded."

"Good." Waving her hand once more, she signaled for the maidservant to leave.

At last, she turned back and smiled at the figure who had been standing by her bedside for the last few hours. "Yvette, aren't you tired? You've been standing for a while; come now, sit next to me; there's a seat next to mine."

"Thank you for your concern, however, I would rather stand."

The blindfolded woman merely smiled, patted the empty seat next to hers, and then she said, "That was not concern, nor was it a question. Sit."

"…Yes, Head Mistress." Though her steps were light, Yvette wore the expression of a prisoner heading to their own imminent execution.

Sitting down on the seat next to her, Yvette ignored the piercing stares of the Head Mistress's servants.

"Yvette, you've been working here ever since you were seventeen, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then I suppose you understand the punishments that are imposed upon rule breakers, yes?"

"…Yes, I do, Head Mistress."

"Yes, you say?" Cocking her head back, she removed her blindfold and placed her hand on Yvette's head, her nails digging into the older woman's scalp.

Then, she opened her eyes and said, "Last I remember, your entire family along with your husband perished in a war sixteen years ago in the first year you began working here. As the overseer of their funeral, I personally buried your older sister with my own hands. So unless she gave birth in the grave, you have no more living relatives, and nor do you have a niece, correct?"

This time, however, Yvette couldn't speak or move.

Unable to refute her words, she was caught in the Head Mistress's gaze.

Her mouth was wide open as if she wished to scream, yet nothing came out--not even a single word.

Yvette could feel her consciousness slowly drift away from her body as her soul and body were slowly torn apart from one another.

Her vision was veiled with red as unspeakable pain spread from the roots of her veins, to her bones, to her strained muscles, to her bloodied and torn flesh body.

The Head Mistress was like a viper who had successfully ensnared their unsuspecting prey, Yvette.

Finally, she let go.

Released from the horrific pain she felt moments before, Yvette doubled over and fell off her seat. Heaving for air on the ground like a flopping fish dragged out of the sea, she no longer looked like the refined woman she was known to be.

"I apologize for breaking the rules and deceiving you," Yvette finally said after regaining her composure. Standing up, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the blood off her face.

"Good, good. So it seems that you do understand that I am the one in charge and the one with authority here, and you are just a subordinate. It seems that we got off on the wrong foot here; it has been a while since we last spoke privately; I suppose I ought to give you a bit more face."

Unlike last time when she refused the Head Mistress's command, Yvette kept her head down, her gaze locked on the floor. "…No, it was my fault. I apologize for my previous disrespect."

Closing her eyes, the Head Mistress put her blindfold back on. "Very well then, since you've apologized, I suppose no violence will be needed. Speak. Who opened the doors that night and let that child in?"

Hearing this, Yvette abruptly froze, her words caught in her throat. Fumbling with her handkerchief, beads of sweat began forming on her forehead. "That- well- it was me who unlocked the doors that night."

"Oh dear me, I suppose I was wrong before." The Head Mistress dramatically sighed, placing her hand over her heart. "You do have a niece, I had almost forgotten. Edith, was it? I heard she gets along quite well with Clèmence. Your beloved niece who you sheltered so well until now— she grew up quite nicely; you raised her well."

Yvette abruptly raised her head in shock, her hands shaking.

"Though, I also heard that she has a tendency to pick up stray children. Isn't that heroic of her, Yvette? I also heard from the vine that Edith was on patrol duty that night; what a coincidence, right?"

"That—!" Stumbling on her own tongue, Yvette quickly spun out a string of words and pleas. "Head Mistress, don't- please- as the one who introduced her to working here, I'll take full responsibility for her actions."

"Oh?"

Yvette nodded and stumbled closer to the Head Mistress in a swivet, ignoring the servants who held blades and an assortment of weaponry in their hands, threatening to pierce her throat if she were to come any closer to their lady.

Though Yvette wasn't worried the night Edith had snuck in Ines, now she couldn't help but panic knowing the Head Mistress knew of their relationship; she hadn't even told Edith that she (Yvette) was her aunt, so just how did the Head Mistress find out?

Plus, she hadn't seen Edith in a while despite how trials for new hires typically last only a few hours.

At this point, Yvette couldn't help but think of the worst-case scenario.

"Punish me instead of Edith, I'll do anything—just, please, don't harm her."

"Anything?" The Head Mistress parroted.

"Yes-"

"Your ability, I want it. Yvette, become part of my personnel, and I'll release that niece of yours."

At that moment, Yvette didn't hesitate to betray those who she was allied with for the sake of Edith.

Kneeling on the ground, she swore an oath in the name of deities lost to time; for if she were to betray the Head Mistress, her heart would stop beating at once.

Seeing the red oath of loyalty slowly spread on her palm, and Yvette's neck, the Head Mistress couldn't help but laugh. "See? It was this simple. If only you had chosen to be on my side the day you entered, this would've never happened."

"…" Yvette remained silent.

"It doesn't matter now, I suppose." Leaning back into her seat, the Head Mistress motioned for a maidservant to bring her a cup of chamomile tea. "I know that not all of you are absolutely subservient to me, and I know there are other moles aside from you, so speak."

"…I don't know," Yvette confessed.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, I-"

Abruptly, out of the blue, the doors slammed open, causing multiple vases and pots to fall over and shatter at once.

"I apologize, my lady! I tried to stop Sir Alphonse and Madam Li-!"

"Bernadette!" He hollered, pushing aside the servant and running into the room at full speed toward the Head Mistress. Wrapping his arms around her, he paid no regard to their surroundings, and he spun the esteemed lady around.

"It's been a while! This is the first time you reached out to m-"

"Alphonse, you—!" She choked out, slapping away his hands. "Enough of this– get out!"

At that moment, another voice chimed in, causing heads to swivel once more.

"Head… Mistress," Madam Lilian slowly said, staring at the mess before her.

The bloodied and kneeling Yvette, the maidservant on the floor, the broken pots and vases, the glass all over the floor, and finally, the Head Mistress who she had always admired for her level-headedness and elegance was covered in dust and grime, along with being held by some unknown man.

"…Am I interrupting something? I'll come back another time."