Chapter 12

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Arthur's eyes were still blurry, but after blinking a few times, he got rid of the worst of it.

He gave the space a quick once-over. It was a bedchamber, princely beyond imagining, but that was a running theme at this point. There was soft gold and red velvet, white ivory and dark ebony. If it'd belonged to the queen herself, he'd not have been surprised.

The old woman regarded him coolly. "That girl is waiting for you in the garden." She said.

Arthur sensed a hint of rebuke in her tone. 'Is that really the issue here?' He wondered dumbfoundedly. After everything that'd happened, he didn't see why she'd bring up something so irrelevant.

'More importantly, what the devil was she doing alone in the dark?' He asked himself, but he decided that there was no value in judging these people by normal standards. For all he knew, she didn't need light to see in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Grandmother. I got lost." He said.

Her lifeless eyes drilled into his. It gave him goosebumps. "…I will take you to her." She said, although it sounded more like a command than a statement.

Arthur nodded meekly. He thought of asking her what'd become of Mr. Nelson, but decided against it. It was like asking a murderer where they'd stuffed the corpse of their victim. At best, he'd just be irritating her. At worst, he'd find himself joining Kent, wherever he was.

She extended a hand towards him. "Follow me." She said simply.

He looked at the offered palm with confusion. 'Does she want me to hold her hand?' He thought stupidly. It seemed a ridiculous gesture, coming from her.

While he stood there, not knowing what to do, the ghostly woman abruptly reached out and interlocked her arm with his. He couldn't feel her skin, they were both wearing long sleeves, but he imagined it would've been cold and dry.

Numbly, he let himself be led out of the room. Her close-proximity had a stunning effect, like a predator's growling had on its prey.

"Have you been well?" She asked suddenly. There was a note of concern in her voice.

Her question rang unpleasantly in Arthur's ears. Rather than feeling touched, he experienced a sense of dread. She reminded him of a farmer, checking the health of her cattle. "Yes, thank you." He said, barely managing to keep the unease out of his voice.

She lightly patted his arm before responding. "I'm glad to hear it. If you've any problems, you may tell me any time." She said graciously. Her tone was uncharacteristically emotional.

"Yes, of course." Arthur said hoarsely. 'My biggest problem is you lot! If you really want to help, you should go die in a hole somewhere!' He thought. The feeling of helplessness was simply unbearable. Never before had his life rested so completely in the palm of another. It magnified his hatred and fear of his new 'family' even more.

After they'd walked for a bit, his grandmother spoke again. "I apologize for leaving early this morning. Something urgent required my attention." She said softly.

Arthur had to fight to keep his expression neutral. 'Is she making small-talk?' He thought doubtfully. He had no idea what was going on in her head. "It's all-right." He said plainly. He didn't let his true feelings show. He worried that, if he acted impolitely, he'd be 'disciplined'.

"How was your breakfast? If there's something you'd like, I'll have the servants prepare it." She said charitably.

The youth decided to go with the flow. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he'd oblige her. It wasn't like he'd a choice. "I enjoyed it very much." He said honestly. The food was the one thing he couldn't complain about. It was good to the point of making him forget his unpleasant situation.

His answer apparently didn't satisfy her. "Isn't there something else you'd like to eat?" She asked insistently.

Arthur tried to think of why she was being so pushy. 'Is she trying to trip me up somehow?' He wondered. He couldn't come up with any ideas.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that she was staring at him. He decided to give a random answer. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd enjoy some pancakes." He said cautiously, observing her reaction. When her expression remained passive, he inwardly sighed in relief.

"I will speak to the maid." She said. "How about your clothes, are they to your liking?" She asked, changing the subject. She looked him up and down before reaching over to fiddle with his shirt.

Arthur's emotions were complicated. 'If she wants to act the kindly grandmother, then I'm afraid it's too late.' He thought decisively. After what he'd been through, it was impossible to believe that her intentions were good.

'What if she's not acting?' A little voice asked, somewhere at the back of his mind, but he promptly smothered it. Entertaining that idea was frankly too dangerous. He couldn't afford to let his guard down.

"They're very comfortable." He said, lying through his teeth. The old metaphor of wearing a monkey suit came to mind, although that wasn't what he had on. He'd have preferred a tuxedo to this archaic ensemble.

Suddenly, the she did something that Shocked Arthur to the bone. She smiled. He'd have expected a smiling corpse to look terrifying, but she wore the expression naturally. More than that, it suited her.

"That's the third time you've adjusted your vest." She said, looking down at his hand. He had the corner between his fingertips and was tugging on it.

Arthur chuckled awkwardly, realizing that she'd told the truth. "I like the feel of it. The fabric is very soft." He said, coming up with an excuse on the spot.

He almost wished the butler was escorting him. The manservant never tried to converse, likely because he felt it was beneath him. However, it was safer, since Arthur didn't get an opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, like now.

Abruptly, he felt his grandmother separating her arm from his before putting her hand on his head. "What a dishonest grandson you are, yet Jane spoke so well of you in her letters. It's a pity." She said disappointedly. However, contrary to her words, she started petting his hair in a manner that could only be described as 'affectionate'.

Her long, sharp nails trailed over Arthur's scalp and he felt her fingers brushing against his neck. Her skin was cool and smooth and, to his surprise, it was actually a pleasant experience. He felt the tension draining from him and some of his wariness dissipated.

"I hope you'll continue doing your best." She suddenly said in a cryptic tone. "You've done well until now." She continued, giving his head one last pat before she took his arm again.

Arthur didn't immediately catch her meaning. 'She must be referring to the 'rite-of-passage'.' He thought a moment later. 'However, her encouragement is worthless. I have no choice but to do as I've been doing, anyway.' He thought with some frustration.

"Yes, Grandmother." He said obediently. He was unsure what else to say to her.

She gave his arm a squeeze. "…and I'll speak to Fetcher. Those clothes need adjustment." She said, sounding upset on his behalf.

Needless to say, Arthur didn't know what to think of her behavior. Her personality seemed to have changed greatly since their first encounter.

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Sighing, Jane clipped an oxblood rose with a pair of scissors before putting it in a basket. "Three-o-clock has come and gone, yet he remains absent." She said over her shoulder to Ms. Squint, who stood behind her.

"Perhaps his tutor is keeping him." The maid said coolly. She looked the same as yesterday, down to her clothes and hairstyle.

"I don't know. Arthur has always been an excellent student." Jane stated worriedly, but then she gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm always fretting over him like this and every time things turn out fine." She said self-deprecatingly.

After a moment's silence, the head maid replied. "…it is a mother's nature to worry for their children." She said quietly.

Jane looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have any children?" She asked, suddenly feeling curious.

When the woman heard Jane's question, she froze. "…don't be ridiculous! I'm far too busy to have children. I don't see why you'd ask when you already know the answer." She said testily after regaining her composure.

Jane was stunned. The response wasn't anything less than an outburst, given who it'd come from. It was singularly out of character for the maid. "I apologize." She said timidly. "I shouldn't have pried."

Ms. Squint exhaled slowly before replying. "You've always had an active imagination, ever since you were a child. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." She said, implicitly rebuking Jane.

Jane laughed anxiously. It seemed her guess was incorrect, after all. "Well, you raised me, didn't you?" She asked, although she immediately regretted it.

Ms. Squint fidgeted where she stood. "…don't be foolish, girl. I'm not your mother." She said, almost angrily. Clearly, she'd caught on to Jane's implication.

Jane's expression crumpled. She hurriedly looked away, not wanting the other woman to see the tears welling in her eyes.

"…we are. They should be around here." A female voice said from somewhere nearby.

When Ms. Squint turned her head to look in its direction, Jane surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "Is sounds like Mary and Arthur." She said, changing the subject.

The maid's shoulders tensed when Jane said her mother's name directly, but she didn't say anything.

A few seconds later, a boy and a woman appeared among the rosebushes. "Your mother is over there." Mary said, pointing Arthur in the right direction before turning and leaving.

After thanking her, Arthur walked over to the other two women. 'What was that about?' He wondered, thinking about what his grandmother had said to him just a moment ago.

"You must remember, I would never harm you." She'd said insistently.

The youth was so stunned by the abrupt statement that he'd not been able to think of a response before she'd left. He shook his head inwardly. He had no way to determine whether she was being truthful or not.

Jane stood up from the curved bench she'd been sitting. Smiling, she opened her arms and embraced him. "How was it?" She asked, putting her chin on top of his head.

"It was fine." Arthur said, speaking into her chest. It was a standard response, one that every child had repeated to their parents a thousand times over.

Jane separated them, holding the boy at arm's distance. "Why don't you tell me something in French? I heard you're learning it." She said mischievously.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I would, but I'm concerned for your ears." He said.

Jane wasn't letting him off that easy. "If you don't, how will I know if you studied properly?" She asked with fake concern.

"You can always ask Mr. Nelson." He said decisively. '…good luck with that, though. It's likely his body is in a landfill somewhere, becoming compost for the roses.' He thought sardonically.

Jane's eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. "That's a wonderful idea. We should invite him for tea, so we can get to know each other." She said happily.

Arthur expelled a puff of air through his nose. His gaze involuntarily travelled to Ms. Squint. He was sure she knew of Kent's situation, so her reaction would be informative.

Jane likewise glanced expectantly at the maid. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but would you invite Mr. Nelson to join us for tea?" She asked politely.

Surprisingly, the woman response was accepting. "I will do so." She said plainly.

Arthur watched her leave, feeling conflicted. 'It seems I was wrong. Maybe he's one of theirs, after all?' He wondered. If that was the case, the tutor's survival could be explained, otherwise he had no idea what was going on. 'Another mystery to be added to the ever-growing pile, I suppose.' He thought.

"Sit down and have some tea." Jane said to him, having done so herself.

There were two benches with a metallic, coiling table between them. Its frame had a vine-like motif, appropriating the surrounding environment.

Arthur was planning to sit across from her, but she patted the spot on her right, so he obliged her. After he'd taken a seat, Jane poured his tea. It was plain, but with a dash of milk, according to his tastes. For a while, they sipped their beverages in silence.

"It's a beautiful garden, isn't it?" She asked after a few minutes.

Arthur wasn't particularly interested in the hobby, but he nodded anyway. "It's very impressive." He said, although 'intimidating' would've been a more accurate description. It was as enigmatic as the rest of the estate and about as navigable as the Amazon rainforest.

Jane put her hand on his shoulder, bringing him closer to her. "When I was a girl, I spent every spare moment in here." She said with reminiscence.

Arthur was reminded of Jane's weird sensibilities. Anybody else, including himself, would've been too afraid to step foot in the labyrinthine garden. Was it a child's natural fearlessness, or was the reason more unnatural? 'Kids are pretty stupid, though.' He thought, not ruling out the possibility.

Jane lifted her hand from his shoulder and pulled on his cheek. "What are you thinking about, Mister?" She asked playfully.

Arthur had an sudden impulse to stick out his tongue and lick her fingers, so he did just that.

His mother reacted like she'd touched a slug. "Ew!" She exclaimed in mock disgust before releasing him with a giggle.

"I was thinking I'd like another cup of tea." He said, looking at the empty porcelain in his hand. While he was in thought, he'd completely drained it.

After she'd poured him another, Jane replied. "Don't change the subject, Arty. Are you trying to keep secrets from your mother?" She asked with pretend sadness.

The boy barely managed to keep the discomfort off his face. The question was depressingly close to the truth. 'More importantly, are you keeping secrets from me?' He wondered, feeling uneasy. However, he didn't voice his doubts. "I was thinking that you look pretty today. Don't call me 'Arty', though." He said with half-seriousness.

Jane made a 'pfft' sound before bursting into laughter. After she'd calmed down, she patted his back, clearly in a good mood. "You should save the flattery for your future wife, big boy." She said teasingly.

Arthur made a thoughtful sound. "Where do I find one of those?" He asked, sipping his second cup of tea.

Apparently, that question gave Jane some trouble, because she frowned. "…I wish things were different, but unfortunately your grandparents make the rules." She said glumly, referring to the fact that he was being homeschooled.

Arthur gave her a placating wave. "I was just joking. I don't really care." He said truthfully. Why would he care about girls when he hadn't entered puberty yet?

Sighing, Jane rested her elbows on the table before putting her chin in her hands. "I'm sure you don't, but as your mother, I worry about your future." She said seriously.

The youth raised an eyebrow. "You shouldn't. The time of arranged marriages has come and gone." He said plainly.

Jane rolled her eyes. "You know that wasn't what I meant. However, if you're going to pick one yourself, then why don't you tell me what type you'd like?" She asked with sudden enthusiasm.

Arthur was exasperated. He almost regretted complimenting her, since it'd led the conversation down this road. "I really have no clue." He lied, feeling too uncomfortable to discuss the topic with his mother.

Jane's lips curved into a smile, looking like she didn't believe him. "Aww, you're embarrassed, aren't you? Don't worry, no matter what you say, I won't make fun of you." She said generously.

The youth turned his head, smushing his face into the crook of her neck. "This conversation is over." He said decisively.

Fortunately, his mother did continue to pester him. Reaching for his head, she stroked his hair. "…bear with it, for the time being. Your grandmother won't keep you cooped up forever." She said, getting to the heart of the issue.

Her words drew a frown from him. He couldn't help but think back to his conversation with the woman. 'I'm not sure what her true intentions are.' He thought frustratedly. 'Maybe I should ask her when I get the chance?' He wondered. He didn't want to drag Jane into whatever this was. That meant he had to ask one of the others if he wanted to know more.

'Is it really a good idea, though? They'd know I was on to them. However, they don't seem to be hiding their true nature. Rather than that, I get the impression that they just couldn't be bothered to explain anything to me.' He contemplated, unsure of how to proceed.

'If I do ask, then who would be the best choice?' He wondered. He immediately ruled out the butler. Out of the three, the manservant seemed the most sinister. He was polite, but it was only a veneer. Underneath it, Arthur detected a deep-seated maliciousness.

'The old ghost expressed her goodwill, but if Jane is telling the truth about the maid's care for her, then I find that far more persuasive.' He thought, feeling surer of his pick. After all, actions spoke louder than words.

He resolved to speak with Ms. Squint, when he got the chance.

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