Dorothea didn't do private performances. That was a rule she had followed ever since some greasy noble tried to grope her during an impromptu song at a dinner party. She could still recall the man grinning, thinking he was on top of the world. Unfortunately for him, she had been holding onto her wine glass at the time. On the bright side, it was hard for him to look any uglier, even with the scars from broken glass all over his cheek.
So after that event, why would Dorothea ever even consider the mere notion of a private performance? Well, she was desperate. Ever since the battle of Garreg Mach, she'd been unable to gain much traction. After all, Adrestia was taking more territory every day, and she had made the foolish decision of actually fighting them. Sure, if she got in front of Edelgard and begged hard enough, she'd probably be pardoned. But she had no doubt the emperor would use it as leverage to wrap Dorothea around her finger. And then she'd have to fight again.
It took a year after Garreg Mach for Dorothea to give up on the fighting. She was helping some small-time resistance movement. They had fashioned themselves as a bunch of heroes, fighting for the people. And she had believed it. Then they were cornered by Imperial forces, and to escape, the rebels set fire to a small village. And ever since then, just the sight of violence was enough to make her retch. So all she had left was her career as a songstress, and again, she was losing job security by the day.
All that Dorothea had left was her sponsor. Her mysterious, anonymous, and very wealthy sponsor. She had gotten to know the representative better than the man himself. An older woman named Emma would occasionally arrive at one of her shows and give her an envelope. And inside the envelope was always just enough money to get her by until the next visit. Dorothea didn't even know the man's name.
And then, for seemingly no reason, Emma met Dorothea not with an envelope, but with an offer. Give a private performance at her sponsor's estate, and in return, she would be guaranteed a stable stream of income that would keep her afloat for the rest of her life. It was too good to be true. But Dorothea didn't have the luxury of worrying about that. It was just one song, she reasoned with herself as she stepped into the carriage and was sent off to the estate. Just one song in exchange for the rest of her life.
Emma was as tight-lipped as usual, refusing to disclose any information about the sponsor. All she was at liberty to say was that Dorothea would give one performance of the song A Funeral for Amelie in the garden behind her sponsor's estate, and that in exchange she would never have to fear poverty again. It was her dream. So why did it feel so wrong? Why Amelie? It was by no means the most popular song she had ever performed, and she didn't even think it was the highest quality.
Part of Dorothea wanted to simply cast these fears aside. This was a time for celebration, after all. Her future was secured. But she couldn't help but be cautious, and she knew why. It was because of her.
"Edie, this isn't true, is it?"
Dorothea shook her head. This wasn't the time to think about it. Edelgard took up too much of her thoughts already. She looked out the window, watching the trees go by. She had tried to keep track of where they had been going, but eventually she found herself unable to keep up. It felt like they had been taking the most confusing route possible.
As Dorothea lazily stared out of the carriage, she spotted an elk prancing by. She was surprised the creature would venture so close to them. Then, she noticed a young one walking by it. They seemed completely unfazed by the carriage. Emma, too, didn't look bothered by them, continuing to drive the carriage as if it were nothing. "We're almost to the estate," Emma hollered so Dorothea could hear.
Eventually they passed through an iron gate, approaching the estate itself. Dorothea waited patiently for the carriage to stop before exiting, and politely denied any assistance from Emma. Her first thought upon getting a look at the estate was if she had stepped into the pages of a fairy tale.
The estate was covered in flora. The front garden was vast, almost untamed, but the plants all bent to the will of whatever artist sculpted them. Flowers of all sorts bloomed, and everything looked as healthy as could be. Birds lazed around in fountains, bees collected pollen, and various dogs and cats roamed the grounds. "Come," Emma said, snapping Dorothea out of her shock. "I will show you to your quarters."
The inside of the estate was far less wild than the outside, but even then, flowers sat on windowsills, and pots hanging from the ceiling contained moss that flowed down the sides. Dorothea counted around a dozen servants as she walked to her room, all tending to various tasks. She passed by a large staircase leading to a second floor, but spotted no entrance to the third floor she had seen while outside.
"This place is beautiful," Dorothea said, unable to look at any one spot for more than a few seconds.
"The master is one who admires nature," Emma explained. "The estate is intended to reflect this appreciation." As they walked, an orange striped cat rubbed itself against Dorothea's leg.
"Hey there, kitty," Dorothea said, crouching to pet the cat. However, upon seeing Emma sternly gazing at her, she decided against it. It seemed she wasn't intended to loiter. Once they arrived at Dorothea's room, Emma unlocked it with one of the numerous keys on her keyring.
"This will be your abode for your time here," Emma explained. "The door will not be locked, of course; this is in case of an emergency. However, I must ask that you refrain from traveling anywhere in the estate without express permission to do so."
"Of course," Dorothea said. She knew how anal nobles could get about rules, especially when their own property was involved. Assured that she understood, Emma gave a small curtsey, explaining she would return with dinner shortly.
Dorothea's room was very large, yet very quaint. There was one window with a couple potted plants resting next to it. There were all the normal amenities that any house in a noble's estate would have, but besides that, there wasn't much to speak of. The floor had been polished to a mirror shine, no doubt in anticipation for her arrival. And the bed looked like not a soul had ever slept in it. Knowing how reclusive her sponsor was, she wondered if that was actually true.
It wasn't until Dorothea laid down that she realized just how tired she was. It had been a bit hard to sleep in the moving carriage, and so she spent most of the time simply lost in thought. But now she felt like she could sleep instantly. She knew that dinner would be arriving shortly, but the prospect of a nap tempted her greatly. Surely, just a few minutes of relaxation couldn't hurt. She closed her eyes and settled in.
When Dorothea's eyes opened, she found herself in a ballroom. It was a dream; she knew this, because it was the same dream she seemed to have every night. And just like every night, she found herself leaving the ballroom as if her legs had minds of their own. All around her, students of the Officers Academy were dancing, talking, laughing, having a wonderful time. But Dorothea simply felt empty. She felt as if she needed to leave, to find something that would make this night worthwhile. She needed to find Edelgard.
Dorothea walked through the halls of Garreg Mach, and just like always, she already knew where to go. She made her way to the bridge connecting the main hall to the chapel. It could be a bit imposing to stand there sometimes, with such a dizzying drop below. But she felt calm, knowing what was ahead.
Indeed, just as she had known, Dorothea saw the woman she had been looking for leaning against the railing, staring out into the horizon with those mystifying, enchanting eyes that enraptured her so greatly. "Edie," Dorothea said, approaching the princess, "what's the matter? It's not proper for the Adrestian heir to skip out on such an important social gathering."
"I wasn't under the impression you cared so much about that," Edelgard said, keeping her gaze at the horizon.
"Well, you caught me there. But I did assume it was something you cared about, if for no other reason than formalities." Dorothea leaned on the railing right next to Edelgard, taking in the view.
"I needed the fresh air," Edelgard explained. "There's a lot on my mind."
"Remire," Dorothea concluded. The princess nodded.
"The carnage that was committed at Remire village was despicable. I can't stop thinking about it."
Dorothea nodded. "Those monsters deserve to pay. I heard that Flame Emperor guy tried to pretend he wasn't involved. What a coward." Edelgard didn't say anything. "And even if he wasn't, he's still as much of a monster as the ones who were. You are who you associate with, as they say."
"Still," Edelgard said, "I do admire his tenacity. It truly seems that he has the drive to carry out his goal of reshaping the world."
"Hey, you feeling alright?" Dorothea asked, setting a hand on Edelgard's. "You've been saying some weird stuff tonight." Edelgard finally turned her head to look at her. The look in her eyes was that same analytical gaze she always gave, but this time it felt deeper, like she was trying to see the essence of her soul. Dorothea found herself blushing. Then, Edelgard leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her lips.
Dorothea was left stunned into silence, even as Edelgard calmly leaned back and returned her gaze to the horizon. It was a wonderful memory to revisit every night in such vivid detail. It also made Dorothea feel like she was going to go crazy. It was the spark of a relationship that she wished could have gone on forever.
But as Dorothea's eyes fluttered open, staring up at the ceiling of her temporary room, she once again remembered that her time with Edelgard had been destined to end. "If anyone tries to stop our retrieval of the crest stones, kill them." Edelgard's words rang in her mind.
Dorothea noticed the plate of food sitting by her door. Emma must have set it there while she was asleep. When she retrieved it, she noted it was rather lukewarm by this point. It made sense, considering it was now dark outside. So much for a quick nap. Still, the food was quite enjoyable, thanks to it being a salad. It reminded her of one of the meals she would often enjoy at the monastery.
It was during the middle of her meal that Dorothea noticed a faint noise coming from above her. It was a heavy thumping, only having traveled to her room as the harsh reverb it left. Perhaps there was construction work going on in one of the higher floors. It would explain why she wasn't allowed to explore on her own. But then, wouldn't Emma have simply said so? She found it impossible to sleep thanks to the pounding sound as well as the dream. So she decided to focus on the noise and see what she could gather from it.
The first thing Dorothea noticed was that the intervals between each thump were never regular. Sometimes it would be almost constant, while other times there would be long gaps of time before another one sounded. And the volume was variable as well. As she continued paying attention to the sound, she found herself slowly starting to drift back to sleep. It was as if she were counting sheep.
As one often does when falling asleep, Dorothea didn't even realize that it had happened until she was woken up by Emma, who was knocking on the door. The morning sunlight shone through her window, forcing her eyes to adjust to the sudden light. "Ms. Arnault, are you awake?" Emma asked politely from the other side of the door. Dorothea couldn't remember the last time someone had called her by her last name only.
"Yes, I'm awake. You may enter." Dorothea sat up, brushing some hair out of her face. The door to her room opened as Emma walked inside, carrying a tray of scrambled eggs and now wearing a more traditional maid's uniform, as opposed to the standard clothes she had on the day prior for the carriage ride. "I am here with your breakfast for the morning." She set it at the foot of the bed.
"No bacon?" Dorothea asked in an attempt to break the ice.
"The master prohibits the consumption of meat in the estate," Emma explained. "My apologies if that discomforts you."
"No, not at all," Dorothea hastily said. "I think that's rather admirable." She leaned over to grab the tray of eggs and began eating. "Wow, this is delicious," she remarked. "Where do you get your eggs from?"
"We grow them here," Emma answered. "The estate is entirely self-sufficient, as per the master's wishes." Makes sense, Dorothea thought to herself, considering her sponsor was such a recluse. She had seen shy people (Bernadetta immediately came to mind), but this took the cake. "Here," she said, handing a copper bell to Dorothea. "Ring this once you have finished so the servants know you are ready to be dressed."
"I think I can dress myself, if that's alright," Dorothea said, a bit embarrassed by the idea. Back when she was at the opera house, the urgency of costume switches and the like meant that she was getting in and out of different clothes, with backstage workers helping her. But even then, it took her quite a while to get used to it. She wasn't sure how to feel about complete strangers seeing her nude.
Emma shook her head. "The master has requested that you be assisted in getting dressed. A dress has been selected for you, and the servants will additionally be preparing your hair and makeup." Dorothea almost continued arguing for her privacy, but she decided she could let it pass. So long as she didn't catch any of those servants ogling her, of course. If that happened, there would be hell to pay.
After a curtsy from Emma, Dorothea was left to eat her meal in peace. She took her time, wishing to savor the food. Occasionally she would glance out of her window, getting a view of the gardens behind the estate. They were just as gorgeous as the ones in front, if not more so. There was a lovely hedge maze, archways adorned with flowers, and even a wooden gazebo painted white. She noticed a servant cleaning the gazebo and wondered if that would be where she was to perform.
Once the meal was finished, Dorothea set the empty tray on the nightstand by the bed and rang the copper bell. In no time at all, two servant girls entered the room, carrying clothing and makeup. She got out of bed and walked up to them, nodding in acknowledgement. At the very least, she knew how this sort of thing went. One of the servants walked to the window and closed the curtains as the other began to undress Dorothea.
It was uncomfortable to be bare like this. The only reason Dorothea had gotten used to it in the opera house was because of the routine of it, in addition to the familiarity of those assisting her with costume changes. These girls looked nice, but they were still strangers. Her dress was folded and set aside by one girl as the other began helping Dorothea into her new dress. She was shocked by the quality of it. It was silk, no doubt about that, but it felt somehow smoother than other silk clothing she had worn in the past.
What really struck Dorothea about the dress was the way it looked. It was a crimson red with intricate darkly colored patterns running all over it, twirling and splitting to create designs reminiscent of flowers. It was accompanied by a green brooch hanging from her neck that mirrored the color of her eyes.
Dorothea's hair was left mostly the same as it usually was, though the servants did make it somewhat more wavy. A minimal amount of makeup was applied, mostly consisting of eyeshadow and lipstick. Even then, they brought out her features more than they did replace them. It was clear that these girls were professionals.
Once they were done, Dorothea was told to wait until it was time for the performance. She was fine with that; it gave her an opportunity to practice. She probably should have done so during the carriage ride, but something about Emma's presence made her rather nervous. A Funeral for Amelie was a tune that she was admittedly a little rusty with. The show it belonged to, Betrayal Under the Pegasus Moon, was by no means a success, and so the troupe only performed it the bare minimum times it had already been scheduled for before shelving it. She couldn't blame them; the opera was melodramatic at best and pretentious at worst. The only reason she remembered it all that well was because it was the last show she did before joining the Officers Academy.
Getting into the headspace of the character was the toughest part of the process. In the show, Dorothea had played a girl named Lyla, who was the embodiment of what men writing operas thought women acted like. She was constantly swooning over the male protagonists, but also too embarrassed to pursue them. She would worry about how she looked in case one of the men happened to be nearby. The most infuriating part was how she would cry for help at even the slightest bit of trouble so that the male characters could solve it. She was nothing more than a pretty voice that made the men in the show look good. Amelie shouldn't have even been sung by Lyla. After all, the titular character barely interacted with her at all before her death, and yet for some reason Lyla felt the need to sing about the tragedy of the situation. It was all so idiotic.
Still, Dorothea bottled up those feelings and adopted the persona of the lovestruck, hopeless, ditzy girl known as Lyla, all so she could properly sing this mediocre piece. She ran through her scales, tested her vibrato (the song used it quite liberally), and ran through it a few times until she felt satisfied. When it became clear that she had finished a little early, she decided to keep practicing until someone came to retrieve her.
It wasn't until well after noon that Emma knocked on her door. "Ms. Arnault, may I come in?" Dorothea gave her permission. "My apologies for the wait." She entered carrying a glass of wine. "The master is having to attend to a few unexpected emergencies, so I'm afraid the performance will be postponed a few hours more. However, it is still scheduled to be today. I thought a glass might help with waiting." She offered it to Dorothea, who accepted it graciously.
"I see," Dorothea said. "Thank you, Emma." She thought to ask for lunch while she waited, but decided she didn't want to risk the food messing with her throat in any way. Taking a small sip of her wine, she smiled. "It's delicious. Tell your master that I greatly appreciate it." Emma nodded and curtsied before leaving the room.
Dorothea continued to practice, taking the occasional sip from her wine glass. It really was quite good, no doubt from a long period of ageing. She wondered just what kind it was. After all, her donor had already pulled out all the stops, so she doubted he was going to skimp on the drinks. A friend of hers came to mind; he was a co-star in one of her more critically acclaimed shows, and he had the uncanny ability to tell what wine he was drinking and how long it had been aged with almost perfect accuracy. She once asked him to teach her his secret, only for him to give a coy smile and shake his head. She wondered what happened to him, as well as many castmates from the opera house, once Edelgard took the throne. It was hard to keep in touch when she was considered an enemy of the empire.
At one point, Dorothea pulled the curtains back and gazed out the window. She spotted a servant entering from the back gate, carrying a rather large burlap sack. At first she thought nothing of it, assuming it to be grains or something similar, but she grew somewhat nervous when she noticed the bottom of the sack was stained a dark red. More than likely it was simply part of an animal carcass that was still bloody, but hadn't Emma said that the estate lived on a vegetarian diet? Dorothea chided herself, thinking she was being too cautious. All that worrying would affect her performance.
It wasn't until the sun began to dip towards the horizon that Emma entered once more. "It is time for your performance, Ms. Arnault," she said. Dorothea nodded, following her out of the room.
As they headed to the gardens behind the estate, Dorothea decided to ask about the burlap sack. "I saw a servant carrying a sack. It appeared to be bloodied. I assume it was an animal, but I thought that the meals were vegetarian." She hadn't intended for it to sound so accusatory, but it was too late to take it back.
Emma looked at Dorothea with a stern gaze. "Ms. Arnault, if I were you, I would focus on the performance. There is no need for you to worry about the affairs of this estate." Her words were much kinder than Dorothea's, but her tone was far sharper. She took the hint, shutting up about the subject.
Just as Dorothea had predicted, she was led to the gazebo out back. She looked to the manor, spotting a balcony on the second floor that overlooked the garden. And standing on that balcony was a figure wearing a red hood. There was no doubt in Dorothea's mind that the person up there was her mysterious sponsor. Though she could not see his face, she felt vulnerable as he looked upon her. The only other time she had felt this way was when Edelgard would look at her, analyzing her every movement.
Dorothea pushed Edelgard out of her mind and tried her best to simply focus on the song. Emma reentered the manor, leaving her alone out there. Well, not entirely alone. She still had her sponsor watching her. She took a deep breath, allowed her heart a few more moments to beat wildly, and then breathed out, feeling it begin to settle. Then, at last, she began to sing.
In times like these, when fully devoted to the performance, Dorothea vanished. Her body was instead inhabited by her character, using her voice to express emotions that the character otherwise could not. The character may have been a vapid airhead, but in this moment, she was able to voice a deeper emotion that she had been previously denied. She was allowed to mourn for Amelie, a girl that she wished she had gotten to know better, a kindred spirit who was stolen too soon. This one-dimensional cliche was allowed to become a true person through the words she sang and the voice she used to sing them.
The evening sun was beginning to fall into the mountains in the horizon, casting the garden in a hazy orange glow. As that glow grew more intense in its color, Dorothea watched her sponsor turn around and leave, right in the middle of the song. Dorothea faltered for a second, tried to continue a little longer, and then stopped as she realized her sponsor wasn't coming back. Her heart sank. She had botched it, hadn't she?
Emma left the building and approached Dorothea. "My apologies, Ms. Arnault, but the master is not feeling very well." It was an obvious lie. "I will escort you back to your room. Please, follow me." She hesitantly obliged, heading back to her room with Emma leading her. Once again, there were no detours, leaving her scarcely any time to truly appreciate the beauty of the manor.
Emma didn't even curtsey before she left, simply leaving without a word. Dorothea was left alone, her mind scrambling to figure out what she had done wrong. Was her voice too pitchy? Did she accidentally skip a verse? None of these answers felt right, but she knew something had gone amiss.
Then, Dorothea heard it. The banging. Just like last night, it was irregular in both frequency and intensity. As the sound continued, Dorothea had a terrible idea. She couldn't risk losing out on the promised financial security because of one performance gone wrong. So she headed to the door and opened it, stepping out of her room. She headed to the staircase based on her memory of the estate's layout, continuing to listen for the banging sound. On the second floor, she still heard it above her, meaning it was coming from the third story. It seemed as good a place as any to assume her sponsor was, so she began looking for a way up.
As Dorothea explored the second floor, she ran into a couple servants who almost immediately asked her what she was doing there. "Don't worry, Emma gave me permission," she said, the lie coming out easily. They seemed a bit wary, but they let her by. The second floor was just as lavish as the first, with plantlife all over. Something that caught her attention was the fact that there were no cats or dogs like there had been earlier. In fact, she hadn't seen them at all since the performance. Her instincts kept telling her to go back to her room before she got caught, but her curiosity kept her going.
At this point, apologizing to her sponsor was the last thing on Dorothea's mind. Something about that banging sound was starting to deeply worry her. She eventually found a hatch on the ceiling, and pulling it open allowed a ladder to slide down. It startled her a bit, but it was nothing compared to what happened next. The banging continued, but with the hatch now open, she heard something accompanying it.
Someone was screaming. As Dorothea scurried up the ladder, she stopped being the songstress and started being the soldier she had been trained to become so long ago. Someone was in trouble. Thoughts raced through her head, but one that stuck around was that this was her sponsor's secret. She knew there had to be something. All nobles had some skeletons in their closet. Why hadn't she paid more attention last night? Damn it, someone was in danger, and she had used those sounds to fall asleep!
After climbing the ladder, Dorothea found herself in an expansive attic, mostly furnished with old decorations covered in white sheets. She realized she wasn't alone and hurriedly ducked behind a chair. She could hear talking above the screaming and banging. "I'm worried about the flooring," a man said. "What if she tries using it?"
"Replacing the floor with metal will take too long and raise too much attention." Dorothea recognized that voice. It was Emma. "Besides, she hasn't tried yet. It will be alright."
There was a sigh. "Alright, if you say so. I'll trust you on this."
"I would not do this if it wasn't the best option. You know that."
"Right, right. What're you gonna go do?"
"I will arrange transportation for our guest. She'll be gone before noon tomorrow."
"If only things had gone better. We should not have delayed the performance."
The voices began to drown out as Dorothea realized what was happening. Someone was being held captive. Was she supposed to have been next? All she knew was she had to get that girl out of there. She heard footsteps, signaling that the two were coming towards her. She hurried to the next side of the chair, staying crouched and deathly silent. The footsteps paused near the exit. "Did you leave this open?" Emma asked.
"I thought I'd closed it. I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't help us if something happens." The ladder could be heard creaking as Emma and the other man climbed down. Dorothea waited a few moments before sighing in relief. She returned her attention to the screaming, hurrying over to the source. At the end of the attic, past all of the old decorations and plentiful dust, was a metal door, completely different from anything else in the estate. It was cold and thick, clearly meant to keep something in. Keeping someone in.
Dorothea crouched down in front of the singular lock, grabbing the hairpin the servants had put in her hair and fashioning it into a lockpick. Ashe had taught her this trick back at the academy, but she never thought she'd get any use out of it. The screaming and banging was making it hard to focus, but eventually Dorothea heard the telltale click that signaled an unlocked door. She stood up and pulled the door open, struggling a bit with how heavy it was. It creaked and groaned as it moved aside. The only source of light in the room in front of her was moonlight flooding in from behind, only barely allowing her to see.
The screaming and banging had stopped. Dorothea slowly entered, wondering if there was someone else in there besides the girl. Perhaps they had been torturing her. Just in case, she grabbed the nearest object to the doorway, a heavy vase.
The first thing that caught Dorothea's attention was the stench. She had to cover her nose with one hand, unable to stand rotten, putrid smell. It brought back bad memories, the kinds that made her feel sick. "Hello?" she said, looking around for any signs of life. "You don't need to be afraid. I'm here to get you out." Damned nobles. What was this man doing in here?
The sound of heavy, strained breathing caught Dorothea's attention next. "Are you hurt? I-I don't know much about white magic, but I'm sure I can-" Dorothea's foot hit something. She looked down and screamed, falling onto her back. It was a cow's head. It stared at her with massive chunks torn out of its flesh, skin still hanging off wounds and blood pooling around it. Dorothea turned away, throwing up onto the floor. The acidic taste of her own meal coated her tongue as she coughed and sputtered up the last chunks that lingered in her mouth. The smell of the cow's head was still omnipresent, but she slowly forced herself to look back at it.
Dorothea could see someone approaching from behind the severed head, breathing heavily. They crouched, as if they were about to jump at her. No, she realized, not jump. Pounce.
The girl was on her before she even realized she had moved. A flurry of movement accompanied raw, feral growling while Dorothea tried desperately to push her away. She couldn't even tell which screams were her own anymore; they all blended together into a cacophony of terror. Still holding onto the vase, she swung right at the girl's head. It connected with a loud thunk, sending the girl flying off of her. Dorothea scrambled back, trying to stand up, but something stopped her. It was the sight of the girl, whimpering, laying on the ground. It was the bright blue hair that went down to her shoulders, unkept and gnarled, like a feral animal's. It was-
"Marianne," Dorothea whispered in horror. Before she had time to process what she was seeing or figure out what to do next, someone grabbed her by the back of her collar and yanked her away, practically choking her. The door slammed shut in front of her, just in time for Marianne to collide with it, screaming and howling once more. Emma ran past Dorothea, grabbing her keyring and using the right one to lock the door once again. The servant sighed, her shoulders heaving up and down with each breath. After a few seconds, Emma turned around, looking at Dorothea. The girl was just as scared as she was.
"Ms. Arnault," she said between heavy breaths, "I must ask you to come with me."
Everything became a blur. Dorothea was yanked up onto her feet and forced down the ladder leading out of the attic. Servants watched as she was practically dragged through the estate by a furious and terrified Emma. She felt like she was going to vomit again as dizziness overtook her vision. Once they arrived at her room, she was quite literally shoved inside. The door shut and locked behind her, leaving her alone and trapped.
Dorothea wasn't sure how long it took for her to get her bearings again. The moon was still shining when she did, and all she could think to do was bang her fists on the door, screaming for somebody to let her out. Nobody answered. Her next thought was to try and break the door down using some magic. But much to her shock, she couldn't seem to manifest anything. Not even a simple fire spell was working. She kept focusing, trying to force the energy into existence, but it simply wouldn't work. "What's happening!? Damnit!" She went back to trying to get someone's attention by slamming her hands against the door, but all it accomplished was making her hands ache.
Dorothea thought to escape through the window, but realized it was far too small for her to fit through. There were no loose floorboards, no weak walls, nothing. There was no way for her to escape. By the time morning came, Dorothea hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, and was sitting against the door, curled up in a ball.
Then, someone knocked on the door. Dorothea cried out in fear, springing up to her feet and backing away. "Ms. Arnault," Emma called out from the other side. "There are things we must discuss."
"Stay away!" Dorothea shouted, looking for anything she could use as a weapon.
"Ms. Arnault, I must insist you-" Emma suddenly went silent. For a few seconds, Dorothea could hear nothing but her own strained breathing. She stared at the door.
"...Dorothea?" a gentle voice said from the other side of the door. Dorothea's eyes widened as she realized who she was listening to. "Dorothea, I'm coming in," Marianne said. The doorknob twisted. Dorothea ran back to the opposite side of the room, pressing her back against the wall.
The door opened and Marianne stepped inside. She was dressed in a blue gown, holding her hands together. "Hello, Dorothea," she said, looking at her old classmate. "May we talk?" Dorothea said nothing, staying still. "I did not intend for you to witness the events of last night, but I assure you that I mean you no harm." She motioned to the bed. "Would you like to sit down?"
Dorothea stayed where she was, looking at Marianne. She seemed so elegant, so kind, so unlike what Dorothea had witnessed. Hesitantly, slowly, Dorothea approached her bed, sitting down. "Thank you," Marianne said, staying by the door. "I'm sure you must have many questions. I will answer them to the best of my ability."
"The…" Dorothea found herself at a loss for words. "I don't…"
"Perhaps," Marianne said, "I should simply try to explain myself. The estate you are in is mine. The servants, Emma included, are under my employment. This is the last piece of land owned under the von Edmund name. I'm sure you must have gathered by now that...that I am your sponsor."
"But the man torturing you-"
Marianne shook her head. "I apologize if that was the impression you had from last night's events. There was no man torturing me. I chose to put myself in there. The sounds you heard were...not me. Well, I suppose that's not the correct thing to say. This is...hard to explain." Marianne was speaking with much more confidence and refinement than Dorothea remembered her having. But even still, Marianne looked more scared of Dorothea than Dorothea was of her. "Surely you must have heard of what happened after my father's passing."
"You...you gave up your seat in the Leicester Alliance," Dorothea said. She had heard the story, of course, but she never thought much of it. Marianne and her were never close enough to warrant her paying much attention to the situation.
"Indeed. I felt I was unable to fulfill the duties of a proper member of the council. That is because of...what you saw last night. Emma told me that you were quite repulsed by the...head." Marianne had a hard time saying it. "It repulses me as well. But when that happens, I can't help myself. I...I'm sorry, none of this is making sense. It's been some time since I last spoke to anyone from beyond my estate."
Dorothea felt herself calming down thanks to Marianne's somewhat nervous mood. It was like she was talking to that shy, quiet girl from the academy, and not the crazed woman she saw last night. Marianne continued. "I bear a crest. It's...not one of the ten elites. I admit I do not know much about its true nature, other than it bringing a great, beastly power. For me, this began shortly after Garreg Mach fell. I found myself growing hungry. I became jittery and irritable. And eventually, I became unable to think rationally at all. When I came to, I was locked in the attic. I had nearly killed one of my servants."
"Marianne…" Dorothea whispered.
"This happens every night. As the sun goes down, I begin to grow hungry once again. And that hunger overcomes me, turning me into the creature you witnessed last night. I would never wish to harm a living creature, but when that happens, the only thing that can hope to calm me is meat. Hence the...the cow." Hence the burlap sack, Dorothea realised. "I never wished for you to discover any of this. I should never have invited you here to perform at all. This is all my fault. I'm so very sorry!" She bowed, now trembling.
"Marianne, I...I'm not sure what to even say," Dorothea admitted. "But...I need to leave. You must understand that, right?"
Marianne nodded. "I do understand. However…" Her eyes darted away. "I'm sorry, Dorothea. You know my secret. I can not allow you to go back into the wider world and jeopardize the safety of the estate. If anyone were to discover the truth, they would become terrified of me. They would come to this place and burn it to the ground. They would kill everyone here. I can not-" she stopped. "No. I will not let that happen."
"I-I wouldn't tell a soul!" Dorothea insisted. "I swear to you, Marianne, that not a word of this will ever leave my lips."
"I want to trust you, Dorothea…"
"Then trust me! Please!" Dorothea's pleas made Marianne wince. "Marianne, you can't...you can't actually be thinking of keeping me here. Right?"
"Please, understand my position," Marianne said softly. "Do not attempt to escape. Your meals have been laced with a concoction that inhibits magic use. You will starve to death long before your power returns. If you try to run away, I…" Marianne couldn't bring herself to finish her threat, but Dorothea understood what was being said. "Please, don't fight this. I wish there was another way." She turned and headed for the door.
Dorothea stood up, trying to walk after Marianne. "There is another way! You can let me go, Marianne! Please, you have to!" Marianne hurried and walked out the door, shutting it before Dorothea could run over and get past. As she began banging on the door once more, she heard the lock click into place. "Marianne! Please, open the door! Let me out of here! Marianne! MARIANNE!" Nobody answered.