VI. chapter: The power of recollections

Abby barely had time to breathe during the day. The emperor Keung Hsu was coming in two days and the servants had their hands full. For the time being she was the only maid left to Lady Rayne but even so she was needed elsewhere from time to time. When she was free to return to her mistress it was already dark outside.

An unpleasant surprise was waiting for her. The first thing she noticed were two trays on the table in the study – trays with lunch and dinner – and both were untouched. A bad feeling built up in her stomach and she made a few steps to the bedroom door.

"Milady?" she asked, knocking on the wooden surface. No answer. She knocked louder but once again there was only silence.

"Milady, why don't you answer?"

Hesitantly she pushed the doorknob down and opened the door. Immediately her hand came up to cover her mouth. She barely recognised the room she'd entered, it was so messy. The chest of drawer was opened, the bed undone, clothes scattered around. A broken vase was lying on the floor, the flowers trampled, a candlestick nearby. Pillows had probably been thrown at the walls, considering their current position.

She stepped over an opened book with bent pages with a slight shake of her head and picked up some of the flowers. She couldn't believe her own eyes. Giselle liked flowers very much, she wouldn't just leave them on the floor. Or would she?

For a moment a seizure of fear overcame Abby. What if Giselle had been taken away against her will? What if something had happened to her? Then she recognised one of the dresses lying around as the one Lady Rayne had been wearing earlier that day and gave a small sigh of relief. It didn't seem very likely for a possible kidnapper to force someone to change. She must have left on her own. But that also meant the mess was her fault and Abby could hardly imagine why Giselle would do something like that. She'd always known how to control her tantrums rather well. Such havoc was a new thing to see.

Finally Abby's mind started to function properly again and she rushed out of the room. Something was definitely wrong and it couldn't hurt to find her mistress. Just to make sure she was okay.

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A trotting of a horse's hooves echoed through the silent, moonless night. The rider was dressed in black, his head hidden under a hood, his cape fluttering behind. He seemed to be but one with the night. No one noticed him approach the stables although there were many guards out there. The rider dismounted, petted the horse with affection and led it inside. Once hidden from the eyes of the outer world, he pushed his hood down with a single gesture. The fabric slid down swiftly, revealing the face of the person. A woman. Her auburn hair was tied up in a bun on the top of her head, her features soft but clear and her eyes lost. She led the horse into a stall and silently walked away.

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Abby spent almost two hours running around the palace in vain search for Lady Rayne. At last she returned to her rooms, despaired, thinking that if she couldn't find Giselle, she could at least clean up the mess in the latter's room. But when she tried to enter she found the door locked. Worried and curious, she pressed an ear against the wooden surface in hopes of getting any kind of clue what was going on behind the door. She could hear a barely audible whisper if she listened really hard, words she couldn't make out, spoken in a steady rhythm. Praying. Giselle must have been praying.

"Milady?" she knocked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alive, I'm okay, leave me alone," came the answer immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"I said leave me alone!" Her voice sounded broken and almost feverish. However, Abby obeyed without another word. When she came across the study she heard a loud sob come out of the bedroom.

Giselle was crying so hard her whole body was shaking with sobs. She was lying on a side, curled in a ball, pressing her face into a pillow. She shouldn't have returned yet. She should never have returned at all. It felt like her heart was breaking anew and it hurt like hell. She'd never thought it could get that bad again. That she'd miss him so much …

Memories washed over her...

Nelson Rathbone. When she was little she didn't care much for the dark-haired boy. She'd known him by name since forever, though, because for one reason or another the Queen had taken a liking to him, too. He was six years older than Giselle, always wearing his head held high, just as his hair was always somewhat messy, too. She remembered how, when she was at the verge of her teens, she would come to her substitute mother, and found him talking to her from time to time. Sometimes she would sit and listen quietly, but she couldn't remember what they'd talked about anymore.

She was twelve when he left as a foreign diplomat for the first time. She cared little about it. At the time she was living her life perfectly fine without him. Years passed, and when she finally got to lay her eyes on him again she was already nineteen. They met on a ball, and that evening was still clearly written in her memory. She was quite sure she would remember it until she died.

It was an early autumn evening. She just wished to take a short break from all the dancing and headed for the stairs to get out of the ballroom. He was coming down the stairs, and when her eyes landed upon him and he just happened to look at her at the same time, it seemed to her as if she'd seen him for the first time. As if she was watching with different eyes. His messy, dark hair, his charming, cocky smile, the way he moved, the way he talked … Soon she couldn't take her eyes off him anymore. Attributing it all to her surprise about how he looked now, when he was a grown-up man, she didn't think much of it. He would leave for a mission again, and she would return to her life …

It turned out that was not the case. She'd fallen for him. Hard. The more she waited for her affection to fade, the more time she ended up spending thinking about him. She started listening to conversations she thought could contain information about his return. She waited. And he came back, causing her to rack her brain about the outfits she would wear just in case she ran into him somewhere in the palace. A charming smile or two, flattering words for the sake of politeness, a few dances, and he was off again. He visited the palace twice in the next year. When he left for China Giselle was perfectly aware that she loved that man with all she had, and she was slowly making up her mind that when he returned she would have to make it become clear where she stood. His position was higher than hers, of course, but it still ought to be enough, and being adopted by the queen herself could count for something, too.

Unfortunately things didn't go as she'd planned. Lord Rathbone returned, but with him came sinister whispers. As he was the desire of her heart she'd found her ways to get information, so that she could keep an eye on him. Not in a stalker-like way; she simply wised to know whether he'd come to dances or not or when he'd leave again. News about a Chinawoman's attack directed at him reached her ears soon. With some more asking, listening and also a bit of bribery she got a better picture of the whole affair, a picture she disliked very much. But what really hurt was to see her fears come true. Until she had nothing but suspicions she could bear it. When Lin, Chon and Roy appeared at the scene she got all the proof she needed. Still, it was hard to believe. She'd always been able to read people well. She'd got to talk with Rathbone some times before. And he'd never seemed like one who would knock out a bunch of royalties. He was a man capable of somewhat daring ideas, so much she knew, but that didn't seem like a way he would choose.

Denial couldn't help her, that was clear. Knowing she couldn't do much wasn't helpful either, but she was determined to fight. For the country's sake. For Victoria's sake. For his sake. For his sake above all. She didn't want him to become a murderer. Somewhere deep in her heart she was sure he'd regret it. It was just that he wasn't destined to see that day …

It tore Giselle's heart apart when she heard he'd died. She knew she shouldn't love him, for he was a murderer and a traitor, but she had no power over her own foolish heart. And she had to leave. She had to leave because she knew she wouldn't be able to live on as if nothing had happened. Sooner or later she would do something that would betray her, and she didn't want to sit and wait until it happened. So she went to learn how to fight and stand on her own two feet, she went to learn how to protect herself and those she cared for. Perhaps, if she'd been stronger before … If she could have stopped him … Then perhaps he wouldn't have died …

Giselle brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. She had to get a grip. Rathbone was not coming back from the dead, and she shouldn't dwell on the past too much. She really should move on. But that was easier said than done. Physical training had been keeping her together the past year, offering distraction she needed badly. It had been hard at first, but her body grew used to it. When physical pain won over the psychical she was more than willing to bear it. After a bit more than ten months she decided to return home. She felt skilled and strong enough. She felt ready.

But there were things she couldn't foresee. Like the arrival of those people. Spending time in the palace didn't help either. Perhaps she should return to her own house, a big house, almost a mansion, she had in the suburbs of the city. Maybe then she wouldn't be thinking about him so much. Perhaps she'd even find a distraction, and she could go on late rides without fearing someone would notice her.

The last thing she needed was the Queen's mention of a marriage. And then Edwind's stupid, annoying flattering. She was an emotional mess right now, there was no way she could marry someone in her current state. Not only it would permanently destroy her heart, it wouldn't be fair to the husband either.

Her shoulders shook again. Really, why did people talk about 'heartbreak' when it really felt like her whole body was falling apart?

There was no end to her tears.

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In the early morning the dawn revealed a clear and sunny, but quite a chilly day. Most people were still sleeping, only those robbed of the privilege because of their jobs were already up. Two guards, striding around The Houses of Parliament in the usual manner, were only one of them. Their eyes were ajar because of the lack of sleep, and they had to fight yawning. Their shift was almost over when they came past the Clock Tower. Suddenly one of the men caught something red amid the green sea of the grass, elbowed his partner to get his attention, and showed towards the red stain. They shortly exchanged the looks, then headed into the direction the first one had shown. One of them squatted down on the spot and reached down. When he straightened back up he was holding a single red rose in his hand.