Chapter 22 The punishment of silence
Isabella could hear the whispering just outside her door as her attendants got her ready for breakfast.
“Are you sure about this, Ms Thorne?” Mira asked, her eyes filled with concern, once the attendants stepped out.
She'd gone outside the quarters earlier that morning and knew what was happening.
Isabella shrugged. “I can't hide forever now, can I? I would have to face it sooner or later. How about I face it sooner?”
Mira nodded. “Alright then.”
She stepped out, the fake bravado she'd put in front of Mira disappearing abruptly as the staff scurried away from her, their eyes down.
Some looked at her with pity as they greeted, while others openly scorned her.
She'd openly picked the dress she wore. The gown covered every inch of her skin, giving whoever wanted to talk about, nothing—no clue, at least not from her own end.
She walked slowly and painfully into the breakfast hall.
“Ms Thorne!”
Mrs Louvre's pitched voice drew her attention. She hadn't seen the old witch coming.
“Didn't think we'd have you up for breakfast. We thought you knew,” she trailed, leaving Isabella to fill the blanks.
Isabella’s smile thinned. “Well, here you have me. I hope I'm not too late for breakfast.”
“Ah, that” The older woman clucked her tongue. “His Majesty has already had breakfast and has taken the young prince for some training.
Isabella nodded, hoping that the expression on her face was that of indifference. The old woman telling her the whereabouts of Lucien knowing what had transpired the night before, was only devilish.
“I'll just have my breakfast,” She said hurriedly and sat down, ignoring Mrs Louvre standing and staring at her with fascination.
She concentrated on her food, picking whatever she could and filling her plates until there was no more space, before taking a bite.
“Isn't this too much, Ms Thorne?” Mrs Louvre teased.
Isabella glanced at her, her shoulders tensed. She really wanted to ignore the older woman but it seemed she was deriving joy from seeing her in pain.
“You have something to say, Mrs Louvre?” Isabella asked, brows raised, her voice rising in irritation.
“No,” Mrs Louvre responded, shocked that Isabella had dared to confront her, before leaving the room.
“Good, I thought so too,” Isabella said to her retreating shadow, while sighing and dropping the cutlery in frustration.
The food tasted bland in her mouth.
Day 4
The pattern had continued till the fourth day. Each new day, she woke up earlier than usual hoping to catch Lucien and Elias for breakfast, but she was always too late.
He had breakfast even before dawn, Lunch was in his study and dinner with Elias in the garden.
She'd thought earlier that maybe he had been too busy, which was why but it dawned on her on the third day that he was deliberately punishing her.
“You've been scarce, Mommy,” Elias complained one night when he'd insisted on wishing her goodnight and Betty had brought him to her Chambers.
“Have I?” She ruffled his hair. God, she'd missed her baby boy.
“We barely see you. I wish you'd come watch me train.” He said wishfully.
Isabella managed to smile, her heart clenched.
“I wish so too, baby. But Mommy has been terribly busy.”
“Have you?” He looked at her as though he didn't believe her.
“Don't you trust Mommy?” Isabella crouched to his height.
“Have you and Daddy been fighting?” Elias asked, glowering at her, his blue eyes, the one he'd gotten from Lucien staring right into her eyes as if trying to figure out the truth.
Isabella's laugh was nervous. “Fighting? No we aren't baby. We're not even close to fighting. She brought her index finger and her thumb together for emphasis.
Even she didn't sound convinced. How would Elias believe her?
“Okay then,” Elias bobbed his head. “I believe you.”
Isabella tried to hide her relief as she kissed his forehead goodnight.
“When all this is over, Mommy will begin reading you bedtime stories like previous times.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise baby.” She smiled through her pain.
The next day came quickly, to Isabella’s relief. She couldn't sleep. Hadn't been sleeping since the event of the gala.
She'd declined breakfast much to Mira’s charging and had decided to stay in her room.
The bond throbbed. Lucien was close by. Actually, he was standing a few feet away from her window.
She could hear Elias's laughter and his.
She tiptoed to the window, wishing to catch another glimpse of her son.
Lucien was teaching him how to fight.
No, like this." Lucien adjusted Elias's grip, demonstrating a defensive stance. "See? Feet shoulder-width apart. Balance is everything."
Elias mimicked the movement, face scrunched in concentration.
"Better!" Lucien's laugh rang out, warm, genuine, completely unlike the cold distance he showed Isabella. "You're a natural. Just like your old man."
"Can I try hitting you now?" Elias bounced excitedly.
"Come at me, then. Show me what you've got."
Elias charged with a child's enthusiasm. Lucien blocked easily, but let the boy land a few hits, praising each attempt.
Isabella’s heart ached as she watched them. The bond pulled at her, but she ignored it completely.
She could step out of the room and head towards them, joining in the fun, but she knew that was wishful thinking.
It was never going to happen. Instead, Lucien would embarrass her in the presence of Elias and would just prove the little boy right.
Tenth Day
Isabella made it three steps into the library before the bond flared with proximity.
Lucien was here.
She froze, torn between fleeing and standing her ground.
The choice was made for her. Lucien emerged from between the stacks, Elias at his side, both carrying armfuls of books about vampire history.
"Mommy!" Elias's face lit up. He started toward her.
"Elias." Lucien's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "We should get these back to your room. Your tutor will be waiting."
"But Mommy's right here, she…"
"Now, Elias."
The command in his voice was unmistakable.
Elias's face fell, but he nodded. "Bye, Mommy," he called over his shoulder as Lucien guided him toward the opposite exit.
Lucien didn't look at her. Didn't acknowledge her presence beyond steering their son away from her.
As if she carried a disease.
Isabella stood frozen in the library entrance, watching them disappear. The bond screamed at her to follow. To demand he stop this. To make him look at her.
Instead, she turned and walked away.
One more humiliation to add to the collection. At least, now she knew he really despised her. She hadn't been imagining the distance.
The difference between them was clear. While she was trying to shield Elias from whatever was going on between them, Lucien didn't care.
She walked back to the room, trying so hard to stop the tears from falling. She couldn't afford to add to the rumours.
Two weeks.
Fourteen days of deliberate avoidance.
Fourteen nights of sleeping alone while the bond ached for connection.
Fourteen mornings of waking to find he'd already restructured his schedule to avoid her.
Isabella stood before her mirror, barely recognising the woman staring back.
Mira had walked in the door the previous morning, pleading with her to eat, but she couldn't. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep.
Not when she'd dream about the night in the garden, about the humiliation ritual he'd carried out on her.
There were shadows under her eyes due to sleepless nights. She'd stopped coming out of her quarters, her windows always closed, the sunlight affecting her eyes. She touched her cheekbones which became more prominent due to the way she starved herself.
She looked like a ghost. She didn't just look like one, she felt like one too.
The door to her chambers opened suddenly.
Isabella looked up, hope flaring despite herself. The bond had pulsed, indicating that he was close by.
Mira stood in the doorway, face pale.
"Ms Thorne." Her voice shook. "I think you need to sit down."
"What's wrong?" She asked, alarmed. “Elias? Lucien? Are they okay?”
Mira nodded, the alarmed expression not leaving her face.
“Then what's wrong?”
“I…I think you need to sit down to hear this?”
Isabella looked perplexed. The two most important people in her life were okay and that meant every other thing was. What was the worst thing that could happen??
She shrugged and sat down, urging Mira to go on.
"There's been an... incident. In the east wing." Mira's hands twisted together nervously. "A fire. Started in one of the storage rooms."
Isabella's heart sank. "Is anyone hurt?"
"No, but..." Mira hesitated. "They're saying it was moonlit blood. That the fire had silver flames. That it could only have been caused by…" She trailed, her fingers intertwined as a result of her nervousness.
"By me," Isabella finished, voice hollow.
Of course they were.
Of course, the moment something went wrong, moonlit blood would be blamed.