Chapter 3
You may ask: didn't you recognise her after she told you her name?
However, you have forgotten. It had been nine years since I had last saw her, and even then she had been a child, a young girl whose appearance had changed drastically since. Besides, there were many missions during those nine years to distract me, hundreds of men and women with bizarre desires, which keep me occupied, that I had soon forgotten the little girl I chose to spare that night.
Therefore, when Fine Soleil told me her name, to me it was no more than a name. A unique name, of course, but merely a name. No implications were involved in it, and no premonition warned me about her. Fine Soleil were just words attached to the girl I must now look after.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
We were riding a carriage away from the city. Nancy Parker, Fine's 'guardian', was slouched by her side, fast asleep while drooling over her shoulder. The carriage jolted, and Nancy Parker stooped forward, her forehead banging against the frame of the window. Cheap powder fell in flakes from her face, and the pentagram was partially revealed. I winced, stroking the same mark that was on the back of my hand, which was now concealed with a white glove.
"We're going to the countryside. There's a mansion there which I wish you to inherit."
Fine's eyes widened. "A…a what?"
"Of course, it isn't yours. It belongs to an invalid old lady whose daughter ran away years ago."
"And…and we could just go there and take it?"
I smirked, and recalled the events of the past week, where I had investigated the backgrounds of every single elderly person holding a title. It was mundane work, reading through articles and documents of wrinkled, stooping counts and earls and barons, and learning about their runaway children. Fortunately, I found our target quick enough.
"The old lady's daughter in question resembles you." I held up a portrait of the young women, and Fine studied her vacant expression framed by bright red hair.
"Your task, is to pretend to be her daughter, and are thus next in line to the estate."
Fine stared at me doubtfully. "Are you sure she'll believe me?"
"Rest assured, I've already bribed the servants and altered the documents to make it seem more genuine. Of course, there may be a few skeptics, but those I can take care of." To further placate her, I flashed a rare, sincere smile.
It failed. Leaning back, Fine stared out of the window, and muttered, "I don't like lying to people I don't know."
"Well you'll just have to learn to. According to the doctors, the old lady only has a week to live, so you won't have to keep up the pretence for long. Think of it as comforting a dying soul instead."
"What?"
"She'll be glad to die believing that her daughter had redeemed herself by allowing you to return. Anyway, if you don't inherit the mansion, it would just fall in the hands of another wealthy nobleman who preys on the vulnerable. If I were you, I'd much rather myself being the successor instead of such people."
Ambivalent, Fine drew her coat around her and remained silent. The carriage jolted once more, and Nancy Parker tilted her head on another direction, so that her drool stained the sleeves of Fine's coat. It was a new coat, too. I had ordered Nancy Parker to buy Fine some new, fashionable dresses in place of her baggy clothes, and to scrub Fine's face as clean as possible.
Scrutinising the appearance of the girl before me, I nodded approvingly at the straight red hair tied in two buns, and the pale, meek face that exuded meek innocence. It was obvious to anyone who saw her that Fine was a girl borne from poverty and hardship, but at least she looked presentable.
"Have you practised your speech yet?" I asked.
She grunted in reply. "Or have you misplaced the sheet I gave you a few days ago?" I ventured again.
"Can't 'member it," she muttered.
"Well then try."
"I can't. It's too long."
My brows furrowed at the reply. Too long?
"Perhaps we'll shorten it then. How about: My dearest grandma, if only we could meet sooner."
"My dearest grandma…" she murmured.
"Mama has been so sorry for running away. She has missed you ever since that fateful day, but her shame has prevented her from returning to your side. But now, grandma, I have returned in her place, to nurse you, to love you, and to compensate for all those years of loneliness when mama had abandoned you," I dictated.
After contemplating for a while, Fine asked, "What if she doesn't die in a week? Or if she was so happy at seeing me that she decided to live longer?"
"Well, I'll just have to take care of that."
Her bangs covered her eyes. "Shall we continue?" I said. "And then, you'll say, 'I promise you, grandma, that I will never leave you. In fact, I would remain at the estate, and fulfil my duties as its sole inheritor.' "
I had barely finished my sentence when Fine shoved open the carriage door and plunged into the open air. Losing her rock, Nancy Parker slid down the carriage, and the loss of balance shocked her into vigour. Fine continued to fall. The dirt right beneath the carriage was tightly-packed, and despite the grass shielding it, it would still be as hard as concrete. Two, no, three broken ribs, a broken arm, possible damage to the skull, and delay to the entire journey itself…
Extending my arm, I managed to grab her just before she hit the ground. Gasping, Fine's upper body flailed alongside the carriage's movement, and as punishment, I let her stay there.
"Why did you decide to open the door?" I shouted against the wind.
"You're a bastard!" she shouted back.
I deliberately relaxed my arm, so that she dropped further, and her nose was inches away from the fields. A shriek resulted, and as Nancy Parker made sense of her surroundings, she partook in the conversation as well.
"What are you doing, Shade? Pull her back!" shouted Nancy, as she embraced Fine and tried to tug her back into the carriage. Yet, as I had guessed correctly, she wasn't strong enough to help Fine on her own. "Give me a hand, will you?"
I relaxed my arm again, and this time, both of them screamed. Supporting herself by holding on to the side of the carriage, Fine had to duck her head as to not get hit by the wheels, and Nancy Parker's face, in exertion, twisted into a most amusing expression.
"Get me back in you bastard!" Fine screamed again.
"Bastard you say?"
"Yes, you son of a bitch!"
"Aren't you afraid that I'll drop you completely?"
"You won't! I know you won't!"
She had me there. Part of my contract was to protect Fine, and losing my grip of her was a direct violation of it. That was her ultimate trump card against me, that as long as Nancy Parker is alive, I am unable to harm her in any way. Yet, does Fine know about this, or did Nancy Parker neglected to tell her this, just like how she did not tell Fine that I am a demon?
Either way, Fine was way to close to the ground for my liking. In one heave, I pulled both girls back into the depths of the carriage. Sweating and shaken, Fine's hair was dishevelled, and her red locks fell across her face. "…bastard," she muttered as I shut the carriage door.
"Yes?" I replied.
"You're a bastard"
"Why?"
Fine swallowed. "You said you'd kill the old lady if she didn't die soon."
"And your issue with that is…?'
She stared at me in disbelief. "Don't you feel bad about that? Don't you see any problem with killing a stranger?"
"I would only do so if she failed to die within, say, a month, or even two months, me killing her is merely a hypothetical situation. Furthermore, I only do so for your advantage."
"But still, killing her, it's, it's even worse than lying to her."
My face darkened. "You are making my situation very difficult."
"Like I care."
"Fine," Nancy Parker interjected. "Listen to him. It's your only chance of living a comfortable life. And I went all the way to arrange this for you."
I eyed the prostitute suspiciously, but Fine seemed to be comforted by her advice. At least, she wasn't making a scene, but chose to be sullen.
"Perhaps it would be better if I said everything for you," I mused. "I could explain that you are too stricken with grief to speak. Does that sound alright, Fine?"
And that was what we decided on. For the rest of the journey, Fine remained as still as a statue, her vacant eyes observing the winding passage that was surrounded by farmyards and wild forest. The girl is too truculent for my taste, I thought. And yet, with the constrictions imposed on me by the contract, it would take me ages to tame her into a proper lady. Eyeing the pair sitting opposite to me, I pondered on the trouble ahead, and wondered if all my efforts were really worth it.
The maid servant was leading us to the old lady's chamber. "Try to look miserable, would you?" I hissed at Fine.
The servant looked back dubiously, and I smiled at her in return. Trailing beside me, Fine was still sullen and quiet, which was a good start, yet it was far from the grieving grand daughter I had in mind. Of course, I had known that the old lady was half-blind, and was too sick to notice any discrepancies, however…as we entered the room, we noticed several young men and women crowding around the bed. A coughing old woman was buried beneath covers and covers of white blankets, and a night cap was tugged down to shield her eyes. A mere skeleton, I thought, good. Just as planned.
The young men and women stood in a tight pack, like a group of hunched-back wolves, faceless and avaricious. "Who is she?" one of them said.
"Another fraud, my dear brother."
"You're just here for the money!"
"GO away!"
"No one wants you here."
"Greed is a sin."
"May I introduce myself?" a complacent young man stepped forward, extending his hand. "I am the second cousin of Lady Farwell, and the inheritor of her estate. Perhaps you would like to wait, as visitors, in the Grand Hall instead?"
As they growled and squabbled amongst each other, I stared at them in contempt. They were no more than a wake of vultures, preying on the dead. Sure, Fine and I were only there with the same objective in mind, yet we weren't related to the dying lady by blood. Surely her true relatives would be at the very least, sincerely pitying the invalid.
Fine had navigated her way through the hostile crowd, and reached the bed. "Here, great-aunt, here's another crook claiming that she's Harriet's daughter," one of the young women jeered.
With her back towards me, Fine folded back the brim of the old lady's night cap, as though nursing a glass doll. Sensing the sudden movement, the old lady's eyes widened feebly, and at once they located Fine.
"Harriet?" she wheezed. Fine froze. Her previously dishevelled hair was tied back into two buns, which I had found out, courtesy to one of the maid servants, that Harriet used to sport when she was younger. The vultures at the old lady's bedside were suddenly struck by the resemblance, and bared their teeth to hiss.
"Oh, Harriet you're back." Tears soaked the old lady's wrinkled face, and her crooked mouth laboured to stretch out in a grin. A pair of trembling hands reached to Fine's sleeves, and clung onto her pale, slender fingers. 'It's you, Harriet."
"No it's not, it's a trap" a shout emitted from the crowd. I frowned, and sauntered over to stand behind the disruptor. If necessary, one quick jab would do the trick, and then he would never shout ever again, I thought.
Stunned, the old lady squinted her eyes in order to see Fine more clearly. "Harriet? But, but aren't you…"
"I am sorry to tell you that Harriet has passed away," my sonorous voice echoed throughout the room. "The young lady standing before you, is her only daughter, who I have taken under my wing."
"Harriet! Oh, no, no…" wailed the old woman. From where I stood, the white blankets formed a bizarre, white dome, trapping the old lady's body in an eternal oblong. "Not so soon, my dear Harriet."
"It's a trap!" someone else shouted.
Suddenly, Fine started to act without my direction. The crowd of young men and women seem to sense my apprehension, and a hushed commotion grew.
Diligently, Fine knelt down at the old lady's bedside, careful to keep her grasp on her bony hands. The wrinkled face, glistening with snot and tears, turned sideways, and gazed at Fine with warmth and confusion. "Is it true?" the old lady gasped. "Are you really not Harriet's daughter?"
Don't mess this up, I wanted to scream at Fine. This was our chance at impressing the old bitch, this was the moment where she could launch her speech to dispel all the doubts that the vultures dropped, like pestilence, onto the bed. At that moment, I wanted more than anything to be in Fine's place, so I could recite my chosen, polished words without mistake, something that I knew Fine would definitely mess up, whether accidentally or deliberately to spite me. Say it, I thought, say the right words!
Bowing her head, the left side of Fine's face touched the old lady's chest. Heaving, the dying patient's lower lip trembled in anticipation, like a dog salivating at the treat in its owner's hand. "Harriet…?"
"I'm here," Fine replied. Silver streams flowed from her crimson eyes, down the shirt of the old lady. Sensing her tears, the old lady's hands folded over Fine's head, and sighed in relief. In response, Fine burst into tears. She clutched onto the blankets and wept, as the old lady stroked her hair lovingly, murmuring words of joy to her fake grand daughter. Smothered silence pervaded the room, as though in awe of the love in display before them.
I don't know whether her tears were an act, or whether she was truly crying in pity for the old lady. All I know is that later that day, the old lady died blissfully in her sleep, still stroking the red, silky hair that was mingled with sorrow and lucid tears.
Fine was still kneeling there, long after everyone else had left the room. The shrivelling corpse was scheduled to be buried the next dawn. Fortunately, the old lady had, in excitement, rewritten her will days before Fine and I first turned up at the mansion, leaving everything to a granddaughter she had never even seen. Fine was now the sole inheritor of the estate, and any pleading, negotiating or threatening from the young men and women by the bedside would not change that fact.
After observing the farce for a while, I became impatient. "See," I said to Fine. "There was no need to worry. Everything's all gone according to plan, even without my intervention. Think of what would happen if you had jumped out of the carriage instead. All your unpleasant 'cousins' would be wrangling over her grave."
Slowly, Fine lifted her head and stood up. "Shall we leave?" I asked. Nodding, she preceded me to the door.
"And Fine? Good work," I said. She paused at the door, and turned around.
Anger would have been insufficient to describe her gaze. Fine turned around, and stared at me with such intensity, as though all the injustice and pain she had suffered in silence in the past years were unleashed, and directed at me. In surprise, I stepped back. Her baleful glance then mitigated, and she left the room.
Next chapter:
"Now, let's try fainting."
"What?" she stared in disbelief.
"You heard me. You have to learn how to faint."