Annabelle still seemed distracted in her Maths and economics lessons but work was getting done nonetheless. Claude ended the Maths lesson to leave Annabelle some time to write in her journals to prevent any nightmares. Annabelle waited until Claude left before closing the journal she was currently writing in. Her eyes trailed over to her harp and she got up. She gently stroked it before detaching one of the harp strings and sneaking out of her room. Glancing both ways to make sure Claude was nowhere to be seen, she began to go over to the drawing room where her mother often stayed after having her evening bottle of brandy. Her eyes narrowed at the mass of ginger hair that was visible from the back of the sofa. She pulled the string in her hands taut and began to creep over to the slumbering woman. Annabelle took a deep breath and lunged forward to loop the string around the Duchess's neck and strangle her to death. Two gloved hands grabbed her wrists suddenly and Annabelle was pulled out of the drawing room. Annabelle turned around and glowered as Claude plucked the harp string off her hands.
"Now, Young Mistress," he said as she folded her arms in a strop "Don't you think it's a bit hasty to get rid of the Duchess?"
Annabelle stuck her bottom lip in a huff and glared at the floor. Claude circled the string around his hand before pocketing it into his breast pocket. He adjusted his glasses as Annabelle turned her back to him.
"A spider would normally play with its food before eating it," he said "We haven't begun playing yet."
Annabelle turned her head with wide eyes as a sly smirk appeared on Claude's face.
"Wasn't it your wish to have a perfect revenge?" he said and began to escort her back to her bedroom.
Annabelle nodded sheepishly and Claude ran his fingers through her hair, getting them caught as he found knots. He pulled the harp string out of his pocket and compressed it between the palms of his hands to pull out a hairbrush. He began brushing the large dark mane as they arrived at Annabelle's bedroom. Annabelle yawned deeply as she sat down on her bed while Claude continued to brush her hair. Claude sat down beside her and she leant her head on his chest. Claude didn't miss the light blush that went across Annabelle's face when she breathed in his scent. Lowering the brush, Claude stroked one of her red cheeks and Annabelle blushed more, looking up at him.
"I hope you haven't caught the common cold from the village," Claude said as he pressed his hand on her forehead.
Annabelle avoided his gaze and Claude spotted the spots of blood forming on her gloves. He picked one up and slid the glove off, seeing the cuts that the harp string had caused on her petite hands. His eyes flashed magenta as he lifted the hand and licked the blood off. He recoiled slightly from the burst of light that her blood held but because of the murder intention inside her, it wasn't fatal. He caught the hurt look from the young girl and smirked.
"Give it time," he said before lowering the hand and pulling out some bandage roll from his pocket to wrap it around her cuts.
He did the same to the other hand and Annabelle's head fell back onto his chest, a tear streaking down her cheek. Claude turned his head away but Annabelle clutched his tailcoat.
"It's…OK…" she rasped and Claude looked down to meet her blood red gaze.
She coughed a little bit and Claude wiped away her tear. She flinched a little bit when she felt the cold skin against her heated skin. Claude leaned in and she closed her eyes and leaned up to meet his lips.
"Young Mistress…"
Annabelle suddenly collapsed on top of Claude to feign sleep and Claude looked up to see the cause of the intrusion. It was the head maid and she blinked when she spotted Annabelle then smiled.
"Yes, brushing her hair does make her sleepy," she said when she spotted the hairbrush in Claude's hand then frowned when she saw the bandages on Annabelle's hands "What are those for?"
"Young Mistress fell in the village and sustained some cuts," Claude explained as he picked up Annabelle and lay her out on the bed "I suppose I'll continue brushing her hair later."
The head maid smiled before placing the bed pan next to the desk.
"Remember to warm her bed sheets up before she goes to bed for the night," she said and left the room.
Claude paused for a few moments before turning to Annabelle's form.
"I would recommend the acting career when you grow up," he said and Annabelle cracked her eyes open to glare at him "But of course, you won't have the chance to grow up if things go according to plan."
Annabelle pointed to the door pointedly and Claude bowed.
"As you wish."
When he left the room, Annabelle stood up and grabbed one of the flower vases in her room then threw it at the wall in tantrum. If her voice hadn't been recovering, she would have screamed.