Everybody, I am so sorry! I know it has been weeks since I uploaded but I have had the most horrible writer's block and school is really stressful at the moment. I wanted to make this chapter perfect because it is the longest and the most important so far! Thank you for being so patient with me. Reviews would be really lovely at the moment as I have the flu and you guys really do make me smile :)
"You mean to say what, son?" Said the elder Mr Kirstein. "I cannot believe you. Miss Lenz would do no such thing."
"Listen to me, father!" Jean said. The two men were stood in the corner of the ballroom, discussing what Jean had overheard. The loud music was still driving out the noise of the storm outside, and nothing appeared wrong. "I am telling you - Miss Lenz may have not been involved, but I am sure that one of her maids is, is - is a tribade!"
"And you are positive of this?"
"Yes, father."
"Then Miss Lenz is in danger."
Jean grit his teeth, knowing he had to help Krista. He had to do the right thing. Suddenly, he saw Reiner and Annie walking through the ballroom. Leaving his father and approaching them, Jean tried to devise a way to ask about Krista without them discovering that he had been listening in on their conversation.
"Miss Leonhart! You look beautiful tonight," He said to Annie, bowing. "And Mr Braun."
"Mr Kirstein." Annie said curtly.
"You have not at all happened to see Miss Lenz, have you? I have been looking for her everywhere and cannot seem to find her." Despite already knowing the answer to this, Jean wished to know what the pair's responses would be to his question.
Annie cast a brief look at Reiner before replying. "I do believe that she has discovered some rather distressing news and has had to leave the ball momentarily. However, I am under the impression that she will be back soon." She said.
"That is most unfortunate. Do you happen to know what the news was?" Jean asked.
"Yes," Annie said, "but I am afraid it does not concern you in the slightest, so I will not grant you privy to the information."
Jean look a small step back in shock at her rudeness. "Well," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I had never expected such language from lady!" He was glad he had listened upon their conversation, as it was clear that he would be getting no information from Miss Leonhart.
Annie ignored him and simply walked away with Reiner, leaving Jean to stand open-mouthed. Jean was angry, and he strode through the ballroom at a quick pace.
"How dare she speak to me like that?" He muttered to himself angrily. "That dowdy, wretched woman. Well, little do they know!" Through his anger, a plan was formulating in Jean's mind. The teller boy, Mr Hoover, had gone after Krista, he had presumed. Well then he would follow Mr Hoover, if he was not too late to do so, and then he would be able to talk to Mr Hoover and Miss Lenz alone.
"Well, Annie, you simply cannot restrain yourself, can you?" Annie said to Reiner, not noticing as Jean slipped out of the ballroom.
She looked at him, smiling slyly. "I suppose not. But we have more important things to discuss than Mr Kirstein and his attitude. Do you think that Bertholdt will find Miss Lenz? I am afraid that she may be found by Ymir first."
"He will, Annie. And she will be alright. We must pray that Bertholdt finds her quickly, so that she can return to the ball safely without anybody noticing that she was gone for too long."
The rain was not showing any sign of relenting as Krista and Ymir rode back to the ball. The clouds were dark and cold, and hovered over the two girls as their shaky silence became tense. Ymir knew not where to begin; everything almost felt as if it were too much. All of the secrets she had locked away inside of herself were about to be brought to light. Now another person would learn her story, and if it were not Krista she were to tell, Ymir knew she would be terrified; in fact, she was, but she reminded herself that Krista was the girl she loved. She let the name ring in her mind; Krista, Krista, Krista. She whispered her name, and the small girl replied, asking if she was alright, with such a caring tone in her voice that Ymir wanted to cry. But she shut those feelings out, and took a deep breath, and began to tell her story.
"Krista," she said. "I am not really sure where I should begin,"
"Just say whatever you feel is right, Ymir. I will listen." Krista's voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the rain easily.
Ymir thanked her, taking in another shaky breath. "I was once in a very similar position to the one you are in now." She said, and waited for Krista to say something, but she was silent, and allowed Ymir to talk freely. Krista did not want to interrupt; she could tell that Ymir was scared. Krista, too, was nervous. She had no idea what to expect, but she just wanted answers.
"I was once rich, like you. I lived in the north of the country, with my family. We had a relatively large estate. Like yours, my family was -" She paused for a moment. "No, I should just tell you bluntly. Krista," Ymir whispered, hands gripped tight on the reigns and eyes staring forward, not daring to look back at the girl.
"My name is Ymir Hoover." She could not bring herself to look at Krista, but heard her shaky gasp of breath through the hard pattering of rain.
Krista knew what this meant. Ymir was related to Bertholdt, and she had run away from her home. So that was the reason why Ymir had hidden from Bertholdt all of those times. But why? Why had she left? Questions burned inside of her but Krista remained patient and allowed Ymir to tell her story. She simply took her hands from the saddle and wrapped them around Ymir's front, holding her tightly.
"He is my cousin." She said softly. "I am sorry I did not tell you sooner."
A few moment of silence passed before Ymir resumed her story. They were making their way out of the pass Ymir had found and out to the field above. Night had taken over, and there was barely any light to see by; Ymir trusted that Surtur would lead them in the right direction. Krista's arms around her made Ymir feel safe, and she wished she could feel too the comfort of the moon and stars above. But there were only the clouds, which moved quickly with the turbulence of strong wind. Ymir focused on the feeling of Krista, whose head was now resting upon her shoulder. Would she be alright? Or would Krista hate her now, for lying and deceiving to her for so long? The thoughts threatened to scare her from confessing her secrets, but she pushed them from her mind, and spoke again.
"I spent my whole childhood with Reiner and Bertholdt. The three of us were inseparable; we played together, we laughed together, we learned together. When I was younger I was so naive," she laughed sadly, "and I thought I could live like that forever. But as I grew older I learned the pains that came with being a female. I was no longer allowed to see my cousin or friend when I wanted to; I had to learn to draw and play the piano, and then, when I was fifteen, came the talk of marriage.
"There was a man, my mother told me, who had come to town; his name was Mike Zacharius, and she was going to arrange our marriage. He was almost ten years my elder, and I was repulsed by him. I refused to marry him, and my mother was outraged. She did not know that by this time another held my affections; in fact, nobody did."
"You fell in love?" Krista said quietly, interrupting for the first time. "With whom?"
"She was from the local town," Ymir said, bowing her head, "though I would go as far to suggest that we loved each other. Her name was Nanaba, and I would sneak from my home to see her in the dead of night. I never even told Bertholdt or Reiner. She was slightly older than I, and she almost persuaded me to run away with her, but I did not feel as if I could leave my dear cousin; I would miss him and Reiner too much. So I stayed, and my mother and I grew farther and farther apart. She truly did hate me by the time Zacharius proposed and I refused. I was an embarrassment, a failure."
Krista's eyes filled with tears at these words. So Ymir had known, all along, how she had felt; she had been through almost the exact situation. It was all too fitting, and if Krista did not trust Ymir more than anyone then she doubted she would have believed her.
"My mother's next step was to force me to spend my life with the church. I was content with this, for the most part, as long as I got to see Nanaba. But then," Ymir's voice cracked as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Krista wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. "One night, Nanaba came to my home in the middle of the night, and told me that she was going to run away. She wanted me to come with her, but I would not go. I begged her to stay with me and join the church too, but she insisted upon leaving. We spent hours together that night. I told her that I was going to miss her dearly. And then as the sun rose from over the horizon, she kissed me and left.
"I was devastated, but I had but five minutes alone before my mother strode outside from the house and grabbed me by the arm. One of the maids had seen Nanaba and I and told my mother. She shouted and then she told my father. When he hit me I knew that nothing, not even my friends, was worth staying for a second longer. The next morning I broke out of the room my mother had locked me in, took Surtur, and fled.
"I spent weeks looking for Nanaba, but she was nowhere to be found. I was devastated and miserable. I-I even stole from the church to live. I hated myself and I hated everyone else too - especially my parents. I almost starved, but I managed to keep Surtur fed. I would travel from town to town, trying to find work. I decided that I had given up on ever seeing Nanaba again, and decided that I would leave for America, where I could be who I wanted without fear. That was when I applied for the position here, as maid; I had already travelled over two hundred miles south looking for a job that did not involve selling myself to men for money. I never thought I would be accepted, but I was, and that was when I met you. I later found out that my family had told everybody that I had died in a horse riding accident."
Ymir fell silent then, breathing fast and heavily, trying to stop herself from crying. It was over; Krista knew it all. She braced herself, waiting for Krista to cry, to get angry at her for lying.
The flame of a forgotten memory ignited in Krista's mind. "Bertholdt told me that he had a cousin whom died in a horse riding accident on the first day I visited Trost," she said. It was all she knew to say; Krista felt as if no words of comfort she could say would do justice to Ymir. She held her tighter and softly kissed her neck.
Ymir was shocked by her response. Who was this girl? Ymir had thought that Krista was weak before, but her views were changing; surely, she thought, it would be harder than anything to stick by someone, no matter what? It was what Krista had done for Ymir, despite her lies, her irrationality, her anger. She pulled Surtur to a stop.
The rain had not stopped, but a gap in the clouds had formed; through it shone the moon, and as Ymir turned to look at Krista, she saw the way the dim, white light illuminated the droplets of rain on her cheeks, making them shine. Krista's hair was wet and clung to her face, and Ymir pushed it back so she could see the girl fully. She was just as beautiful, Ymir thought, than when the ball was beginning, just hours ago. It felt like days had passed. Krista gave her a watery smile.
"What is troubling you, Ymir?" She asked.
"Nothing, Krista," Ymir said, stroking Krista's cheek with her thumb. "I just am having troubling believing that you are not angry with me for lying for so long. You smiled, and you were kind to me, even though you know what kind of person I am."
Krista let out a weak laugh. Ymir saw how warm and genuine her eyes were, despite the cold outside. "Of course I was. No matter what, Ymir, I will never leave your side."
Ymir felt a warmness spread through her, and she turned back to the reigns. A large hill approached them. Suddenly, a crash of lightning came down and illuminated everything in their vicinity; in the distance, Ymir could briefly make out a figure standing at the top of the hill. Seconds later the thunder rolled in, deafening the girls' ears to the shout of the stranger.
Ymir pushed Surtur to ride faster through the rain, and eventually they were able to see that the figure was Bertholdt. He, too, was soaked through by the rain, but could not look more relieved to Krista safe and smiling. He jumped quickly from Brimir and ran to them.
"Krista!" He shouted as he ran. "Are you alright?"
"I am quite fine," she smiled.
"I was so worried about you!" He began to gush, and there was a genuine smile on his face. Ymir watched from Surtur, then suddenly Brimir noticed her and trotted over. She stroked his long face and smiled, before looking up to see Bertholdt staring intensely at her.
"Ymir." He said with a steely voice.
"Bertholdt," Ymir said, her voice softer than his, "please, I am begging you, do not speak of this to anyone."
"I had never believed you one to beg, Ymir," Bertholdt said, looking at her with narrowed eyes.
"Trust me, I am not; but this situation extends to more than myself," Ymir gestured towards Krista.
"I am aware, and I can assure you that she is the is the only reason why I am not going to inform anybody of what has been going on here."
"Thank you," Ymir said, relief flowing through her.
Shrouded by the darkness, Jean watched as they talked. He squinted his eyes. Who was that other figure? He could not make out the words they were saying, so he edged closer, making sure to remain out of sight. He heard a few words pierce through the noise of the rain. Most notably, Ymir. So that figure was the tribade? He felt himself becoming angry at the very thought of it. He needed to inform the people at the ball what was going on! When they returned, he would catch them red-handed. Quickly he turned and ran as quickly as he could back towards the ball while the trio were still talking.
Krista, Bertholdt and Ymir made their way back to the ball. Led by Bertholdt, who remembered the way he had come, their journey was slower than before. There was an icy silence between the cousins that Krista could not understand. Had they not been the best of friends? Even if Ymir had left, she thought that Bertholdt was at least courteous enough to treat her with kindness, but even Ymir seemed to acquiesce to his way of speaking to her.
When the estate came into view, there was an eerie silence. Something felt very, very wrong to Krista, though she could not place where her discontent was coming from. They made their way around to the back entrance, so the three could get in and change without being noticed, but as they turned the corner to where the maids' entrance was situated, a large gathering of people waited.
At the front of them stood Jean.
"You see!" He shouted to them all behind him, and a mutter of agreement rippled through them. Annie and Reiner stood at the edge of the crowd, completely dumbfounded.
"What is happening here?" Krista asked, trying to speak with authority.
"Krista, stand back." Jean's father strode over to the horse she sat upon and grabbed Ymir, pulling her off the horse and onto the cold, wet, hard floor. Krista gasped and jumped off too, but Jean held her arms back; she could not move.
Ymir got up off the floor slowly, and pulled back her fist to punch the elder Mr Kirstein in the face. Before she could, however, he snatched her waist and restrained her. She thrashed and kicked at him, but the large man was far stronger than her, and was able to keep her still.
Krista was beginning to panic. What was going on?
"Let me go immediately! What is happening here?!" Krista was terrified but tried to appear confident. "Mr Kirstein, let Ymir go! You are hurting her!" Her voice cracked and Krista was sure that her fear was evident in her tone.
The man was squeezing Ymir tightly; it looked as if the girl could not breathe.
"Do not worry, Krista, everything is alright."
"It is most certainly not." Bertholdt said, striding towards them. "Let Krista go. Now." Bertholdt towered over Jean, and his gaze was piercing. Jean immediately released Krista from his grip.
"This maid," Mr Kirstein said, "is a tribade. We told you this before, and now we have the proof. She is right here!"
"You have no evidence for this claim!" Bertholdt protested.
"Oh, but we do," Jean said. "I happen to have overheard a conversation of yours where you were speaking of this very abomination."
"How dare you listen in on us!" Shouted Reiner as he too strode towards Jean.
"You have only proved us correct," Jean laughed as he walked to his fathers side. "Now, Ymir, do you care to deny this claim in front of every guest here?"
The crowd watched in shocked silence, but their expressions told of their thoughts; they were disgusted by the idea of a tribade working within an estate as fine as the Lenz's. Ymir looked at Jean. "Well?" He asked. For a few seconds, she did not respond, until she gave a grin and spat directly into his face.
Jean looked at her with the utmost disgust before hitting her, hard, across the face. Ymir grunted in pain as the punch connected. Krista ran towards Jean and tried to pull him away as he pulled back his fist, ready to strike for a second time.
"Stop it!" She screamed over the rain. "Ymir has done nothing wrong!"
Jean lowered his fist and turned to Krista. He towered over her. "Oh, but she has surely gotten to you, has she not?" He spat. "I have no doubt that she has lowered you to her filthy level, Krista."
"Do not call me filthy, and I have never given you my permission to call me Krista." She said venomously. "Ymir has done nothing."
"Do not lie to me!" Jean shouted. "She must be the reason you have ignored my every advance to you! It is an abomination towards the Lord! You disgust me!" He raised his fist towards her then, and Krista shrunk back.
"Jean, do not." His father said.
Jean cast a glare at the man but relented at his request. "Krista, tell me. Has this wretch touched you? Has she dared to make an advance towards you?"
Krista had never felt more trapped in her life. The urge to say I love her was overwhelming, but it could get them seriously hurt. She did not know what she should say. Krista looked over at Ymir, who was looking at her pleading eyes and shaking her head. Ymir wanted her to say no. A trickle of blood was running from Ymir's mouth and her dark bruising was already appearing around her left eye. No matter what she said, Ymir was going to get hurt. So would it not be better to be hurt with her? She would have to run if she said yes. But if she did not, then Ymir would run without her.
"Well?!" Jean was almost shouting in her face. Krista's breathing was speeding up; she did not know what to do, she was scared, and her heart was pounding furiously in her chest. The eyes of the guests from the ball bore into her, making her feel worthless. They would hate her like they hated Ymir, but a life without the freckled girl was not one she felt was worth living.
Krista had promised Ymir that she would never leave her side. The choice was clear. She would say it. She would say that they were in love, and they would face the consequences together.
But as Krista opened her mouth, she was interrupted.
"I know Ymir. She already has a lover, back in her home town." The lie slid between his lips with ease. "She would never make an advance towards Krista."
Krista turned to him with horror, but when her eyes passed Ymir, Krista saw that the girl was smiling. She mouthed a thank you at Bertholdt. Tears were streaming from Ymir's eyes as she smiled at Krista. Jean looked at Krista intensely.
"So you have done nothing wrong, Krista?" Jean said to her. His voice was less harsh than before. "I want to hear you say the words."
Krista looked at Ymir, and then at Bertholdt. Their eyes pleaded with her. It took every fibre in Krista's being to say the word that came next.
"No."
For a second, Mr Kirstein's grip on Ymir loosened and Ymir was able to blindly kick him between the legs. As he doubled over, Ymir kicked him again and ran, grabbing Surtur. Krista sank to her knees. She jumped on top of the horse and looked back once at Krista, with longing in her eyes, before she faced forwards again and rode away into the darkness of the stormy night, never to return.