7 Just Beginning
Adeline had barely changed out of her dress when a servant came running to her room. Two maids were helping her out of the emerald green gown, when a curt knock was heard at the door. She placed a hand upon her chest. It had just been unzipped in the back, and the dress would have fallen if it wasn't for her aid.
"My lady," a voice frantically requested.
Adeline sighed. "Zip the dress back up," she instructed.
The maids turned their snobby nose to her. They did not like to serve this freeloader. No one knew of her true identity, except that she was the childless Viscountess Eleanor's niece.
The maids had no choice. This was their job. No matter how much they despised the freeloader sucking up their Viscountess' money, the maids rezipped the dress.
Adeline took a step forward. "You may come in now," she managed to say.
Now that Adeline was home, she was no longer as nervous. At the ball, her stuttering had worsened. There were too many people present. The incessant chattering and faux laughter bothered her too much. It had been difficult to focus on her speech.
Aunt Eleanor's constant badgering was of no help, either. It was a brutish attempt. Her intentions meant well, but her heart was in the wrong place.
"My lady," the servant outside the door said with a hesitant stare.
Her fingers wrung before her light grey attire. All of the maids in the house wore this uniform. Back in the day when the Marden Family was considerably wealthy, maids were forced into prim and proper skirts, whilst doing the most extensive house chores.
However, it was modern times now. Sleek cars ran on the highway, planes whirled through the skies, and buildings climbed towards the Heavens.
Times have changed. Now, servants wore grey slacks and white blouses. The clothes were more manageable and easier to walk in.
"What is it?" Adeline inquired. It seemed the maid was in a rush. She was catching her breath, as if having sprinted a marathon.
"Viscount Marden would like to see you, my lady."
Adeline's throat constricted. Viscount Sebastian Marden was not a kind man. In contrast to his babbling wife, he was a strict man of little words. When he did speak, it was always with a frown. He behaved as if the world had wronged him. Nothing made him happy. Nothing made him smile.
"Alright then," Adeline reluctantly said. She folded her hands together. Her fingers tightly gripped each other for support. If not, they would be shaking, like her nerves.
"Please take me to see him."
- - - - -
Adeline's fate was sealed. She was never going to leave this house alive. She would have to relinquish her inheritance to the Marden family. She couldn't fathom why her chatterbox Aunt Eleanor married Viscount Sebastian.
Aunt Eleanor was the older sister of Adeline's late mother. They came from humble beginnings, with a status lower than that of a Viscount, which was already considerably low on the hierarchy. It was a miracle that Adeline's mother had married a Prince.
"V-Viscount Marden," Adeline greeted. She bowed her head in respect.
Adeline had just entered the room. Her shoulders were already trembling. It was difficult to not cower before him.
Despite Viscount Marden's age, he was a man of considerably large stature. His frame was broad and he was sporting salt and pepper hair. There was a healthy glow to him.
Viscount Marden was handsome in his youth. Or so, Aunt Eleanor always bragged. Unfortunately for him, he grew a large wart on his left cheek. A single hair solemnly grew out of it, making him an eye sore.
However, his reputation and presence was enough to command the room. In particular, his private study, furnished in polished rosewood and decorated with green velvet furniture.
"Y-you called for me?" Adeline added on.
Adeline lifted her eyes to see that the Viscount had his back to her. He was watching out of his window, even though there was nothing that could be seen, except a pitch-dark forest behind their large mansion in the middle of nowhere.
Adeline noticed the cane in his hand. It was a walking cane, with a lion head at the top. He used it to support one of his bad legs. As a result, one of his arms was stronger than the other.
"You failed," Viscount Sebastian said.
His disappointed voice forced her to tense. Adeline's stomach uncomfortably churned. She suddenly wanted to use the bathroom. Her nerves were all over the place.
"Useless, through and through," he seethed.
Adeline tried to not shake. His glare would worsen, and she'd be a stuttering mess. Now that she thought about it, Adeline did not stutter as a child. Somewhere along her growth spurt, she had picked up the habit.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded in a crude voice.
Adeline had a thousand things to say. The mission was rigged. It was an impossible task. His Majesty wasn't present. These phrases barely scratched the surface. She could provide many explanations.
Viscount Sebastian would deem all of them excuses. Failure was failure. With it, came punishment. So the same mistakes were not repeated. Ever again.
And he would be certain of it.
"I-I have a lot to say," Adeline managed. "But you'll think of them—"
"As excuses," he finished for her.
Viscount Sebastian swung around. He preferred not to look at her. She was the splitting image of her beautiful mother. Too bad Adeline inherited none the grace and elegance. Staring into those large, green eyes of hers, his heart burned with envy.
"On with it," Viscount Sebastian gestured.
Adeline shrank back. She gripped the sides of her dress, knowing what was to come. A failure was a failure. Even when he sent her on a suicide mission. Somewhere along the lines, she wondered if he enjoyed hurting her.
"Y-you said you wouldn't hurt me if I failed," Adeline explained. "You told me—"
"I said I won't be mad," Viscount Sebastian said. "It's a difficult task that guarantees your freedom. But you failed. And now, it's time to fulfill your end of the bargain."
Viscount Sebastian did not lie. He was not mad. At all. He had expected this outcome. He made certain of it. It was known that His Majesty rarely showed his face in public. Much less a boring socialite ball.
"Now sign the papers," Viscount Sebastian stated. He motioned towards his mahogany table. Everything was immaculately organized. Not a single paper or pen was out of place. He preferred it that way.
Adeline's shoulders relaxed a bit. Her back legs were still burning from two days ago. Like a dog walking to its death, she trudged forward. Her eyes swept over the paper.
"A deal is a deal," he reminded her.
His voice was lighter now, and less disappointed. What man would be unhappy to make more money? It only took a single slip of paper, too. How easy was that?
Adeline gulped. She picked up the papers, her fingers quivering. She expected as much.
"Party A agrees failure to fulfill Section 1. Mission, Party A will relinquish rights to Kaline and Addison Rose's inheritance bestowed to their sole daughter, Adeline Mae Rose. Adeline Mae Rose's inheritance will be transferred to Sebastian Marden."
Adeline's eyes flew to the Section 1. Mission. "Party A will be fully emancipated from House Marden and relatives if Party A completely eradicated the person of Party B's request by the end of the Ball."
"It's time to hand your fortune over," Viscount Sebastian calmly announced. He pointed to her name at the bottom of the paper. In neat handwriting, was her signature and thumb print in red ink.
"T-there's a problem, Viscount," Adeline slowly said.
Viscount Sebastian quirked a brow. "And what's the problem?"
Adeline's heart thundered in her ears. She found a loophole. Everything was going to either go very, very wrong. Or everything would fall into place. She prayed it was the latter.
"The Ball is just beginning, today's the first day of the season."
