Chapter 129 Hidden information

Chapter 129 Hidden information


“Sounds cute when you put it that way,” Lucien said with a teasing smile as he took his seat. 

Isabella mumbled a small thanks, taking the seat beside him. “Can't read this, all by myself.” She muttered, ready to dig in when the door opened, revealing Elias who poked his head inside the room. 

“Hampton said I would find you guys here,” Elias whispered, holding the same book Isabella had been reading to him earlier. 

Isabella nodded, an encouraging smile forming at her lips. “Come sit with us, honey.” She patted the seat beside her. 

“Thank you,” the little boy nodded, entering the room fully and closing the door behind him.

He walked over to the seat Isabella had patted, lodging firmly beside her, his attention fixed on the book he was reading. “Go on, I promise I won't disturb you.” 

Isabella glanced in amazement at her little son who was speaking like an adult. She shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter before her. “One, two, three.” She counted silently, opening the book. 

Her mother's name shone again on the first page. She couldn't seem to get enough of the name. 

Sameen. 

She'd heard bits and bits about the older woman and had seen a very vague picture, but none of the stories told to her had included a name. 

Sameen Thorne. 

She moved to the next page. It was a written letter, mostly written by Sameen herself. 

“She addressed it to me,” Isabella whispered to Lucien, afraid to draw Elias’s attention who was seriously reading the book. 

“I can see,” Lucien muttered back at her, squeezing her hands in encouragement. 

Isabella read the first letter, tears forming in her eyes. Sameen’s account of what had happened was totally different from what she'd been told. 

“Did you know?” She glanced at Lucien in accusation. “She'd been brought to the palace at one point in her life, thinking she would be safer here.” She glanced around the room. 

She could have even been kept in this room. The same one, where we are, reading the account of her life. 

Lucien shook his head, raising his hands slightly in defence. “It's not that simple.” 

“So you did know.” Instead of hate, her voice was flat, filled with indifference. 

“No, Izzy.” Lucien protested, realising he was treading on a very slippery slope. “It was one of the stories told to us in those days.” 

Isabella folded her arms. “I'm listening.” 

Lucien sighed. “She'd been labelled as someone with cursed blood. And if you read further, you'll probably see where she was arrested.” 

Isabella placed a pen in the book to remind her of where she stopped, before facing Lucien completely. “I want the truth and nothing but the truth. “Was she ever named?” 

“Her name? Was it mentioned?” Her voice shook. 

Lucien shook his head pitifully. “No, Izzy. She was known as the woman with the cursed blood.” 

Isabella nodded firmly, picking up the large book, her expression unreadable. She moved to the next page. 

It was another letter by Sameen, indicating how the one person she had trusted in the palace had sold her out to the Ancient Faction. Actually, there had been two. But one person had had a change of mind. 

Isabella sighed, willing the tears to go away. The woman had been through a lot. Worse, history had no way of knowing she was innocent. 

She showed the letter to Lucien. “Did you know about this? Please don't lie to me.” Her voice shook. 

Lucien grabbed her hand, leaning into her. “I know you think I've been in the know, Izzy, but I haven't.” He sighed. “The man who was the leader of the pack was my grandfather. I heard only the stories.” 

Isabella looked away, heaving. “Doesn't make it any easier to understand.” 

Lucien nodded in understanding. “I agree.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “And I also know it's easier for me to say what you want to hear…” 

Isabella shook her head, interrupting him. “It's not that…it's…” She paused, unsure of where she was headed. “I…I just think she deserved better.”

“Yes, she did,” Lucien grunted. “Which is why I know why we found the archive.” He frowned, thinking deeply. “The ancient library was rumoured to have been burnt down, destroyed even.” 

Her eyes narrowed at his words. “What are you implying?” 

He shrugged. “All I'm saying is, it was a rumour. We never saw it. I didn't see it.” He added. 

She nodded, understanding dawning on her. “You think someone deliberately started it?”

“She started it. Sameen.” He confirmed. “That was the only way to hide the archive and allow you to read it almost a century later.” He added. 

Isabella sniffed, holding his hand as if her life depended on it. “She set it all up. Knew what would come and wanted to set the records straight.” 

Lucien grunted, nodding. “It was the only way.” He paused, taking the book from her hands and closed it gently. “You really don't have to read this all today.”

She pursed her lips, looking away. “My father,” she whispered. “I need to know him. She would have said something about it.” Her voice was laced with desperation as he reached for the book. 

Lucien shook his head, his expression firm, even though a blind person could see the concern in his eyes. “We both know why you want to know him. It's not there.” 

His eyes travelled to the book set on the table. 

“And you know that how?” Isabella challenged, not ready to give in. “It's her gift to me. It's the one way she could speak to me. You don't think she would have placed him there?” 

Lucien looked away, hesitatingly. He seemed to be fighting a battle within himself. “It's not there,” he finally spoke, giving in.”

Isabella sighed tiredly, taking her hands out of his grip and walking to the window. 

Lucien let her go and followed after her almost immediately, keeping a reasonable distance between them. 

Behind them, Elias seemed to be enamoured with his book, his head barely raised even with the voices. 

“What do you know?” Isabella asked, turning around to face him. 

“Nothing you don't already know,” he replied calmly. 

She spun without warning, their noses almost touching. What do you mean?” 

Lucien sighed. He needed the words to come out as nicely as possible. “I know you think I'm in the know of certain things that happened to her, but that's not true. I was told stories, just like you.”

“No you weren't,” Isabella retorted coldly. “You were told stories. She was used as a cautionary tale by people like your grandfather, and you know what was the difference?”

“What?” Lucien asked even though he knew where the story was headed. 

“I had to source those stories myself. Heck, I didn't even know her name. You wanna know what Harlan called her?” Her voice cracked. 

Lucien shut his eyes for a bit. “Izzy,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around her without warning. 

“Just like me, she was called every tainted name you could think of.” She sobbed. “Let me go.” She hit his arms, but Lucien wouldn't budge. 

“I won't.” He patted her, just the same way he would to little Elias. “It's not your fault.” 

“Isn't it?” Isabella sneered, wiping the tears away from her cheeks even as more continued to roll out without control. 

She felt ashamed of her actions, hitting Lucien like he was the one person who had a hand in her predicaments. 

She glanced at the huge book sitting prettily on the table. “What's its essence? Why exactly am I reading this at this crucial time?” She mumbled, loud enough for Lucien to hear. 

Lucien sighed, his gaze loving. “It's one thing to know, Izzy. It's another thing to act.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes, her brows raised simultaneously. “You're not speaking clearly.” 

“Your father,” Lucien pushed. “Do you really want to know him?” He paused, deciding not to speak further. 

“It's one thing to know him, it's another thing for him to want you. You really think he wouldn't have known?” Lucien continued, despite telling himself he wouldn't. 

“So, you're saying,” her voice cracked as she shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts off. 

“Say it, Izzy. Doesn't make it any less real.” Lucien urged, his arms on her skin reassuringly. “I know what is running through your head. Say it out loud.” 

Isabella sniffed, walking out of his embrace to the window. “He knows about me and doesn't want me?” The words tumbled out in quick succession as if she were afraid to process them. 

Lucien nodded, walking up to her and standing beside her. “It's only a speculation.” He muttered. “We don't know the full picture yet.”

“No we don't,” she shook her head, her gaze on the roads of the city that the window showed as she watched the people come and go. 

She turned back to the archive.