It was the third time in the season that the ramps had collapsed, that will require a lot of work in order to reassemble the tracks. The pit had been excavated as a big pool, from the center to the borders, with three levels deep and ramps to access to the pit bottom and pull the carts up and down with the crushed rock pieces. They clay was stockpiled and left to dry, then grinded several times and turned into a fine sand in a mill. They didn't processed all the clay there, the brickyard had being reduced to allow more space for the clay to dry, because the ampler or deeper they dig, the clay was more wet. They had dig into a stream of water that had leaked with pressure, making the paths melt into a mud and the ramps sliding into the pit. The place was puddled and they clay turned sticky when wet gluing everything on it, it took a great effort to pull the wood planks out of it. The workers where up to the calves in clay mud, it was difficult to walk or make the wheelbarrows to move. At least no one was hurt, but still some of the workers became reticent to work in such unsafe conditions. The summer hot didn't help anyone mood. It not even helped the clay to dry faster. In spite of the intense the sun, the clay composition changed when liquefied and it took too much time dry.

The foreman decided to stop the labor earlier for the day, as not much could be done with less than hours of remaining sunlight. At least that will settle the workers who were prone to point any singular or unfavorable event as an ominous signal. For them, Allerdale was mysterious in a way that give goosebumps, the place had inspired several cock-and-bull stories about ghosts and evil deeds. The Master on the contrary, had not reacted in a positive way. The sun was starting to set when Nort stood in the main hall, all covered in red clay, leaving footprints on the floor from the entrance to where he was standing. In the study, Arthur Sharpe yelled at him as if it was his fault, it wasn't. But he didn't knew Mr. Sharpe had been on town getting more bad news from his associates in charge of transporting the extracted material from Allerdale. Mc Cullin and Sons had required him a minimal amount of load to deliver if he wanted to keep the price unchanged. With the previous incidents and delays in the clay extraction it would be a difficult task to comply with the demand.

"I'm trying to run a business, and it cannot be paralyzed by stupid superstitions"

"Forcing the people for two more hours will do more harm than good. Besides, the ramp felt from the top dragging the ones below, it won't be a quick fix".

"Damn it! Nort I hired you to bring me solutions, no more troubles"

"Then I think is time to dig in a different place. Two miles to the North I'll suggest"

"No" He showed a map where the digging points have been drew on blue ink, if connecting the areas they made a line that turned around the manor. Two miles from the actual pit will align with the house. Any incident that result in ground displacement at that coordinates, may also be potentially harmful for the manor foundation.

"Then six miles North and two East, it will be far enough to the previous pit and even farther from the older ones"

"Ok" He ran his hands through his hair. This was the best option for now, but he wasn't sure how it will work in long term. "Order the materials we will need, I'll send Jory to town tomorrow to get them. Hire some extra hands to break down the new pit, and do the measurings in the morning"

"I will" Nort said, and was dismissed by a hand gesture.

In his way out William Nort took the exit to the west side on the manor, it went across a small inner yard and trough a trophy room. Busts of animal were hanged on the walls and several skins were displayed like tapestry. The space had books shelves, a desk and drawers with taxidermy implements. Next to the entrance there was an exhibition table with a glass countertop, it contained insects pinned and classified. There were scorpions and spiders, centipedes, dragonflies, but mostly butterflies. He looked at them, their exotic wings spread wide, enticing, inviting to watch. He observed them attentively, it was a rainbow to admire. Just one thing was out of place, like it didn't belong there. It had a fat body, the wings shaped edgy instead of round, brown-greyish color, it looked like a bunch of dead leafs, and of course it was not a butterfly. The specimen was unnamed.

William Nort left room without noticing that it connected with a hallway that lead into another area, a small hall with skylight of stained glass panels. The walls were covered in frames with more dissected insects, all of them were moths, locals and vagrants. In the second panel to the right there was a missing one, first row, fifth column, the empty space was labeled 'Poplar Hawk moth'.

Late on that evening Agnes had went to the study, just to find his husband nursing his problems in wine. She had asked him to come to bed, and he had answered rudely.

"Cannot a man be at peace at his own house? Let me alone woman"

It was the alcohol talking she knew, he tried to stood up and swing her a backhand but his equilibrium fell and he was back on the chair.

"As you wish" she said feigning indifference, but her voice was tainted with rancor.

Why had she cared after all? She left the lout man be, hoping he get asleep in an uncomfortable position that will ache his body in the morning, in addition to a head hurting hangover. She may as well stop her concerns toward his wellbeing... as he had gracefully asked her not to worry. She went to her bedroom and lay on her bed, thanked for her husband had not follow, so she can be spared of his bad mood. The discussion about the mine had been long and all Allerdale had listen to his yelling, poor Mr. Nort had taken most of the brawl in silence. She was not sleepy, so she changed into a silk night gown, and sat to comb her hair.

It has been long past midnight when Mister Arthur Sharpe had stood up, awaken by the sound of broken glass, the one he had been holding when he fell asleep. The glass had finally rolled off his fingers, not enough pressure holding it. The remnant wine sprinkled on the floor along with the shards. He shook his head and went to the kitchen, stumbling with difficulty. He found that Agnes was there making some tea, he looked at her.

"Come", he said.

She offered him some tea.

"No", he said, "I want you, here, now"

"Stop it Arthur, you are drunk" She said in disgust.

"I am, and you are...hmm", he licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"Let's go to sleep, you could use some rest"

"No!" He rejected shaking his head, like the impulsive child he sometimes was.

He held her forceful and tried to bend her over the table, but she offered resistance and he fell to the floor on his knees.

"You won't refuse me!" He tried to stand up tottering and waving his fist against her, catching only the air and falling again.

"Not here, Arthur, just lets go to the bedroom"

She helped him to get on his feet and supported his weight on her shoulder. He allowed her to guide him, stumbling through the stairs. She hated him when he took her, his alcohol smell, his hands clumsy but dominating, his erratic pace, and the way he finally feel asleep inside of her. She pushed him to a side, resigned that she won't be cuddled afterwards, again. She fell asleep nursing her mind with an image of a different man beside her, in a different place. It had been four days Arthur had spent in Carlisle, and five more since he had returned, and so far not an attention of her woman needs. And now this, a quick coitus by an inebriated man, she didn't want it like this. With Arthur it was never making love, but this was not even sex, it was him scrubbing his member against her to appease the erection, leaving her unsatisfied. She dreamed with herself in a lover's arm, one that held her with passion and delight, not only lust. A man that pleasured her softly, that cuddled her and moved gently, their bodies building up with a slow but steady rhythm, their orgasm embracing their connected bodies. A woman can dream and be alive as well. If she was destined to die in Allerdale Hall, she may as well reign over it and made her will for a change. It was due time for her to take charge. She had been a larvae all these years, she will come out from her cocoon. But what she had? only two lousy children, and a shabby old house. The manor had been her prison, her jailer, her silent witness, but now she will count it as an ally.

/\/\/\/\/\

The Sharpe Masters were not the only ones having a troubled night. In the nursery, little Thomas was sweating, his body naked except for the diaper, his sleep was agitated. Lucille was awake, it was too hot to sleep, and she rolled over on the bed incessantly. She wanted the October breeze to come already, but now the wind didn't blow and it was humid and sticky. Her mother always carried a fan with her in the hot days, moving it as fast as the moths moved their wings. Nana had told the basement was cold even during summer because it was under the ground. That's where the wines were stored, she had told. Lucille thought that she would like to sleep there for tonight, and drink wine as well if it was as cold as the water in winter. She never had been given wine to taste, "wine is not for children" Adelaide had said, "It will only give you a dizzy head and a stomach ache". If that was the case then she wondered why her father and mother drink it anyway. She was not convinced on Adelaide's answer, she never had seen her drinking wine, so probably she was only repeating what people tell.

Even after she had refreshed herself with a wet towel she didn't feel ready to sleep again. She was bored and wanted to get out of bed. Thomas was finally asleep, and an idea settled on her mind, a reckless one. She had not been outside the nursery by her own since Thomas was born. First she didn't have time to be bothered by the confinement, because of all the attentions the boy had required, she had been sleepy and tired more frequent than not. Then her father had come back, allowing her and Thomas to spend time out of the nursery, with him and her mother. The second reason was that Adelaide had been sleeping in the nursery spare room for the last six months, until the baby sleeping and feeding had become more regular. The doctor had dictated that the boy was progressing positively, and he had gained enough weigh and strength to sleep five hours between feedings, during the nights. That had motivated her mother to release Adelaide to sleep in her own quarters, something that the old woman sure appreciated.

Eight months has passed, her father had left and come back, and still he travelled a lot but only for few days, managing the family business as he said. At the beginning of the mining period, she usually saw her father more. But the mine demanded more and more of her father's time as the operations advanced through the summer. This was the usual pace for the Sharpes. Even if she still saw both her parents regularly, it was not as flawless as it has been the first time they were together after Thomas birth - which was actually four months after Thomas birth. Her father's energy seemed to be consumed as he stayed more time in the manor, and he tended to act less loving toward his wife and less caring toward his children. They weren't having breakfast together anymore and she regretted it.

She had asked father to see the mine and he had not agreed nor denied. In her childish mind, she wished he could do something to turn the time back and forth, and then stop it when she found the perfect moment when the four of them were together and in good terms. She would stop the time, to let that moment be forever. That was absurd of course, she needed to be more realistic, she thought, 'Maybe if father don't have to be always in the mine'.

They had been in the small hall just a couple days ago, as her father had instructed Adelaide to give Thomas a daily sunbath. It was not a real bath, he was just allowed to lay clotheless under the sun rays. For her, the warm feeling was also nice, especially when surrounded by fresh and dry air. In the nursery, it felt like they were breathing the same air they exhaled forever and ever, breezeless and recycled. The ceiling in the nursery main area was higher than in the rest of the rooms. The roof was slightly tilted, with longer windows from the top to the middle of the wall. The maids used a large ladder to open and close them, and they mainly remained the same for the complete season, either closed or open. The sun can only be caught directly in a patch where the rays entered by the tall windows and reflected over the floor. In the late Winter days, when it still was cold she had piled cushions and sat with Thomas under the patch to catch the warm rays in the mornings, like cats in a windowsill.

Thomas liked the sun and the open space. He enjoyed the sunbaths, rolling over his belly or falling asleep with a peaceful smile on his face. Lucille jumped or danced around or lay on the bench, the sun on her face, her eyes closed. That day, her mother was in good spirits, she had been there and even braided her hair. If was not a usual interchange, and she discovered that the moments she spend with her mother like that, were really a treasure she craved for in secret. Father had arrived pacing and looking worried, he had spoken with her mother, but Lucille didn't paid attention to it. Then Doyle had arrived, his hat on his hands, he had addressed his father in the same way the maids used to address her mother. She didn't like the man, he was very thin, and used adjusted clothes, always well dressed with white gloves. He usually appeared unexpectedly, and disappeared as fast as he had arrived. His nose was pointed and he usually had that face like it had just smelled something rotten. He managed the estate finances, and the manor expenses, and even if he frequented the house a lot and sometimes spend the night there, he didn't live in Allerdale.

Her father's lips pressed together while Doyle had spoken with him, but he tried to show his best mood again after the man vanished away. Mister Sharpe moved to close to Thomas, running his hand over the infant's back in a caress. Thomas was curled with all his limbs turn inward, hiding them under his belly like a turtle.

"Father, can I go to see your work one day?"

"Hmmm?" He raised an eyebrow with incredulity.

"Can I see your work in the mine?" The girl felt encouraged by both of her parent's lately pleasant behavior. Since father's return they had been a family again. Just like a fairytale.

"It is not for little girls. Not for ladies at all" Her father responded.

"Maybe I can help to-"

"Your work is here, with Thomas and your mother. Mine is in the mine, where is not safe children"

"Oh Arthur, do not paid attention, she is just bored and being silly" Her mother interceded.

"Maybe if you spend more time with Her... Them"

"Maybe she wants to spend more time with...Her...Father"

"Don't fill the child's head with ideas"

"I'm not the one putting this idea on her mind, I assure you. If I had that power, she will be asking to go with you to France"

"I don't think you have that cunning in your mind, my dear" He pointed with cynicism.

"Oh, but I do believe is not a bad idea at all!"

"Do you enjoy this, don't you?"

"What?" She didn't catch the retort.

"Gainsaying against me, of course"

"I'm not, you can realize by yourself that your daughter is growing more perceptive"

"I do realize she doesn't need extra help to focus her perceptions toward certain topics"

"I'm just suggesting that you can show your daughter the glory of Allerdale estate, after all it will become her legacy one day"

He hoped not, the girl will marry at a proper age, unlike her mother, and the boy will manage the estate. That was the way things should be. He was still young and may have more children, but Agnes, she was not suitable for the task. Fourteen years of marriage have more than prove it.

"We'll discuss this later, I have things to attend", he said this ending the conversation abruptly and taking his leave right away. Lucille was clueless on what the conversation had been about.

/\/\/\/\/\

The girl thoughts wandered a while until her decision was made. Eventually the winter will come, which meant her father won't be there and she will be confined in the nursery again, the coldness discouraging her intentions. Off the nursery she will go, so she discarded her night clothes in favor of an undershirt that made it easier to climb down the first floor pipe. The moon could be seen through the room window, which meant she had plenty of time before Thomas next bottle. She went on her feet and onto the service door.

The descent had been swiftly, but she slide on the second floor bathroom because the pipe was sticky and she landed on her bottom over a puddle of red clay. How the clay flowed downside up, she didn't knew, but it was an inconvenience. Especially after realized that she had left red footprints all over the place. She took her shirt off and wiped her feet, then wiped the footprints on the floor before she started her exploration. She followed the arches lined with spikes, like rose thorns. They were pines, she noticed that after she felt the pattern carved on them with her fingers. Before she realized it she was in a dark corridor, she was sure she never had been in that part. The old servants quarters had been closed for at least twenty years, no one remembered exactly, except well, Nana and Adelaide. The place was very damp and she had followed the fluttering of the moths, the big ones made a loud buzzing sound. She heard noises and hide herself on the nearest room, all the room were lined up against the same wall, without doors.

She walked as far in the room as she could to get concealment in the darkness when something touched her back and she almost jumped, furniture, broken chairs piled up, a bed, everything covered in dust and mold, she could smell it, no doubt there where more than moths living there. She heard a noise like something being dragged, then a huge shadow passed in front of the room entrance, but it was too dark to distinguish what was at either side. It was scary and Lucille held her hand over her mouth to do not cry. Long time she waited before move and hurry up her way back. She had thought it was one of the maids, but no, this was bigger, the Grim Reaper with its long black cape. She had heard of it once, one of the maids had mentioned to another while cleaning the nursery. "The Grim Reaper sure walks on the halls of Allerdale, waiting to take the souls of those who wander unaware on the haunted manor. It feeds with human souls, the house. And at night, it creaks to conceal the moans of the ones that had been taken". But Nana had stepped in "mind your tongues you owls, or you will end working in a...less respectable house", she held the bad word to not voice it in the presence of the girl, "You should be grateful to get a job here in Allerdale". Quickly the maid had replied "But Mrs. Beth, it is only what people said in the town, I am not making it up". "Well then worse, you should be ashamed of repeating such nasty lies, and even more in front of the Mistress ears. Off you go, the two of you, I don't want to see the lot of you until you finish with the laundry". The pair had took the bedcovers and hurried out of the nursery.

"Wicked women, you don't paid attention those ignorants talk, Lucille dear".

"Nana, who is the Grim Reaper?"

She had explained to her, in a way to do not scare the child, "Is just a poor lonely soul. Some said when our time in this life is coming to an end, he will come to guide our souls to be judged in the afterlife"

"How does it looks like, it is scary?" The child asked.

"People that had done bad deeds in their life is always afraid of death, and so they think the worst things. But when you get old like me, you'll see that death is as natural as live."

"But people can die young too" Lucille had inquired.

"Well I think everyone is here for a reason, but the Lord may set different tasks for everyone and some can rest earlier than others"

"So... if we are still here, is for something we failed to do?"

"It is not so easy child, to discover oneself purpose may take a lifetime. There is no need to rush little one, the acts of the Lord are perfectly timed."

"Have you seen it, the Grim Reaper?"

"Oh no, only those who are to follow can see it, when the time comes"

"What about Thomas?"

"What?" The woman asked in concern.

"Do you think he had seen it? Sometimes he looks as if watching something but it is only us here"

"Oh no child, enough of nonsense. See what that knucklehead women do with their idle chat. Putting horrible ideas in your head"

"But Nana, what if-"

"None of that, there is no Grim Reaper or anything looking for you nor the young Master. You will both have longs lives ahead. So shake that nonsense out of your head, you are and angel as well as this beautiful boy" She sat next to Lucille with Thomas on her arms.

"If any, it will be cherubs with white gowns, playing songs with their harps and flutes. That will be for nice little children like the two of you" The old woman said with a calming tone, giving Lucille a hug while cradling Thomas.

With that memory, a sudden concern hit her head. The shadow it has not stopped on the door, so if it was not in for her, then... "Thomas" she thought, she should never had left him alone. When she reached the room, tears where streaming down her cheeks, and she sobbed when she found Thomas asleep. "Wake up Thomas, wake up, don't leave me alone", she hugged the boy so hard that he woke up crying. She remained the night asleep, holding Thomas after calm him back. Trying to keep him from fall asleep again, just in case.

/\/\/\/\/\

The summer days still brought some more sharing moments for the Sharpes. Lucille had been taken to her mother company to listen to her reading. The girl constantly flow of questions only made a display of her ignorance in so many topics. While her mother voiced her concerns to her father, the later had replied she was still too young for a formal tutoring. A governess he knew should be a better companion, as young ladies used to make a fine blend between nursing and teaching, especially for the little ones. But that of course was out of discussion, none of them will even mention it. On the supper, the Mistress had bribed her husband using the girl. She had allowed her to pick the roses from the bushes in the inner garden, and Lucille had proudly told she had helped Nana to prepare the comfiture that will be served for the toast. He had succumbed to his daughter charms. The girl will do whatever to spend time outside, she had listened to her mother, and she had acted as told. The family was on the table, passing out the plates, where the dart was thrown.

"Father, can we go to a play for Christmas?"

He knew the girl had never been in the town, nor watched a play. So it was not definitely her own idea.

"Mother told me everything about, when you used to go see the pantomime. She told me the story of the Snow Queen, that's my favorite father! I want to see everything, the actors in the lovely costumes and the scenery and the music. It sounds like a story made it real, Can we go father?"

"Maybe for the next year, Lucille. I don't think the cold winter air will be suitable for Thomas"

Not the response Agnes was expecting, but it was not all loss yet. Lucille plopped on her chair, her enthusiasm abated.

"What about we do something for your birthday and Thomas, it will be next month. We can do something special here in Allerdale, can't we?" Her mother spoke to cheer her up, setting the bait.

"Well...I think we can invite some people, like Irving or Dening Forbes", her father spoke. He though in favor of the birthday date as he had not planned to spend December in England, yet he wanted not for his family to have that information so early.

"We should invite people with girls of her age. What about Cheryl Haydens and Lillian Wright". She insisted.

These were old Agnes acquaintances which he was not very fond of, the women were harpies, one was a recent widow and the other had a suitor hoping to become the woman's third husband. He was not confident of allowing Agnes to be in chat with any of them.

"Maybe Mr. Nort can make it too. But we should make preparations, and frankly I don't have time to plan for a party" He responded.

"For your daughter and your heir son, His first birthday, Arthur!"

"Well then, you shall be in charge of the preparations. Just let Doyle know what is needed. Then he addressed the girl: "How would you like it Lucille, a birthday party!"

"Oh, father thank you very much, you are the best!" She had gazed her mother expression looking for affirmation, and she had found it.

"We can go to the stables tomorrow, if it's not raining". Agnes said casually, and with that the child's eyes brighten even more interested in that than on the party idea.

Agnes was pleased, her daughter resulted to be a little manipulative devil. She could cultivate her daughter's skills into her benefit.

A party was something that Allerdale has not seen since her marriage. Any second intention was discarded upon the mourning of the children that never came to be.

It was nice touch that the idea had been suggested by Arthur himself, and for that she felt satisfied. Her tactics worked pretty well for a first time trial.

Even if Agnes Sharpe spent all her time in the manor and most of it without his husband, he still had a firm hand in controlling her doings, even while he was out. Doyle took care of that, a suitable the minion to his husband, and she believed he had a secret pleasure in denied her things by 'instructions of the Master'. The few times she had ordered Jory to drive her out of Allerdale, Doyle has make sure the event reached Arthur knowledge and she has seen his husband hand close to her face, at his return. Arthur stated it was inappropriate for a woman to be by her own, that was why he had escorted the governesses. But she instead was a married woman, and cannot be seen with other than her husband. In this, Arthur was extremely conservative to the point of archaic. That didn't help Agnes life. She was alone and isolated. Her husband expected that she take the children for company. She needed to relate with real people, not babbling kids.

/\/\/\/\/\

She had made invitation letters and planned a meal, even entertainment for the children, a performer and a bunch of rabbits for petting. Arthur had told Adelaide to hide candies in the garden, so the children can search for them. That day the Randolphs had arrived first, Emma looked radiant as usually dressed in pastel tones, the children Irving Jr. and Nicholas where brought with them. They were 13 and 10, and both shared their father's fair hair and blue eyes.

Agnes added extra effort to be a delightful guest, knowing as she knew that Irving had been advising Arthur against her best interest. She will show them all the contrary. The kids played in the terrace next to the dance hall, while she engaged in conversation to entertain her guests.

"Oh, Emma. You had such nice gentlemen"

"Thank you, but do not let them deceive you, boys can be such a rascals. You will see, in no time Thomas will be giving you headaches" She giggled after her statement.

Agnes made a small giggle too, just to be polite. She had not see the comment as funny.

"They wrapped up the poor dog in bandages, using the excuse that they were practicing to be doctors as their father, Can you believe it?" Emma continued her chat.

Arthur and Irving where sat nearby having men's conversations, as usual.

"Well that requires lot of education, are you planning to send them to a boarding school?"

"Oh no dear, I will die if I am separated from my babies. They are tutored at home, until they are old enough to attend education in a college"

"How early did they started?"

"Well, Irving always had said that an early education nurture the young minds better. We hired Mr. Leipzig when little Irving was six. It had done miracles in their behavior, don't you think so Irving"

"Whatever she says I agree, he said making a surrender expression" He laughed and clunk his glass with Arthur's.

"I'm glad that you are better my friend, is good to see Agnes smiling and enjoying too" The doctor stated.

"I'll excuse myself a moment, to get the children ready" Agnes said to Emma.

"You may as well, dear. I want to meet little Thomas so much, and haven't seen Lucille since she was a baby" The blonde woman responded.

In the nursery, Adelaide was battling to get Lucille's hair braided. The girl's hair had grown long, almost reaching to her waist. The Mistress watched the scene and her expression turned into a scowl.

"Oh, give me that, she took the brush from Adelaide hands, you better prepare Thomas"

Of course Adelaide didn't knew much about fancy hair combing. Agnes instead had had six bushy heads to practice when she was younger. She finished Lucille hair in no time.

"Come on Lucille, there is people that came to see you. You'll behave today and play nice with the other children"

"Other children?" Lucille asked.

"Yes, they will be a lot of children today for the party"

"Children like Thomas?"

"Don't be foolish Lucille, older children of different age"

That make Lucille stomach twist, she never had seen others children like her. Not another girl, only babies, Thomas and the wet nurse woman's baby, just months older than Thomas, but much bigger and noisy. She was expectant and afraid, she won't k now what to do. As she walked out, she felt sick. Never had she thought she will be wanting to run back to the nursery. To run and lock the door so there were no others that intrude in her world.

When they reached the main hall more guests have arrived, a loudly bunch of children. Mr. William Nort introduced his offspring, the twin girls, two equal drops that giggled and bowed holding her dresses as one salutes royalty.

"This is Christopher, he is Lucille's age, and the little bear cub hanging to his mother is Bryan. Joan, let me introduce you to Mrs. Agnes Sharpe and of course lady Lucille Sharpe"

Lucille stared trying to remember how to greet properly. She had been showed once by a governess, but her mind was in blank at that moment. She did a courtesy like the twins, trying to imitate the execution of the identical looking girls as best as she could. Then the group moved into the terrace, leaving Lucille with the strange child that was her age.

"I have a magnifier, do you want to see it? I can burn things with it" The boy said in a neutral expression.

Lucille was mute.

"Can you hear, girl?"

"What?" she finally spoke a word.

"If you can hear me, my father said we don't laugh at you if you acted weird"

"I don't act weird!" She replied.

"But you are locked all the time. Are you bad? That's why your momma locks you?"

She decided she didn't like this boy, or 'other children' if them were like this one.

"No! What do your father knows anyway?"

"That you have a sick brother, he'd never seen him. He said he may be deformed"

"How you dare!" She stomped over the boy pushing him with her strength.

The boy stood up and run to fetch his father. "Weird!", he yelled at Lucille. He needed not go so far, as his father was already walking to the hall, and went surprised when the boy came running and bumped against him.

"Father, father, she pushed me to the floor" The boy pulled his father hand and pointed accusatory to Lucille with the other.

"Calm down Christopher" He walked with the boy in hand and stepped in front of Lucille.

"Is that true? Did Christopher threatened you in any way? Did he pushed you first?"

"No sir, but he said horrible things about my brother and-"

"No need to detail, I think we all can ignore this incident, we don't want to ruin the mood of the celebration, right?"

Both children were silent.

"How about Christopher apologize and we forget it. Go on son"

"Father!?" But Mr. Nort pulled Christopher's ear hard, "the little lady is waiting Christopher". He emphasized the boy's name.

"I apologize for what I said of your brother" He still believed the girl was weird.

"Good, and what do we said Lucille, sure your mother had taught you"

"I... accept your apology. I apologize too for pushing you"

"Very well then, why don't you two go to play? Christopher can show you the present he brought, right?"

The boy nodded in resignation.

Lucille headed up to the terrace, she was allowed today most free range to walk around the house, most than ever in her life, and she didn't wanted it ruined by a stupid boy. Once she started to walk giving her back to the visitors, Mr. Nord pulled his son ear even harder, he bent toward the boy to spoke secretly in his ear.

"Not a word to your mother, you hear me?"

"No" They boy was much convinced by his father menacing way, the one that usually endure him a punishment with the cane. "No, father"

"Off you go!"

They boy ran out, and the man walked in opposite direction.

Three hours later Lucille had managed to survive, avoiding the children as much as she can, at least a dozen had arrived with their parents. They had played and run. She wanted too, but she didn't. She was wary and still mad about the Christopher boy incident. She still thought she was more fortunate that Thomas, who had spent the whole time wailing in her mother's arms. He was probably overwhelmed with so many faces and hands poking his cheeks, with their elaborated hairstyles and hats. He had the 'about to cry' face, and she regretted she couldn't be the one to comfort him. This should have been their day, for the two of them only, maybe cake with father in the hall and mother might have play the piano as well.

She forgot a little of everything when the entertainers arrived, they walked over wood sticks, looking like they had long legs, they juggled things, and made tricks, her attention was captured with the show. For once she blended herself among the group of children their eyes fixed on the spectacle. She clapped with them and laughed, and glanced to look at Thomas from time to time. She found her father, his eyes fixed on her, a smile in his face.

When the sun set arrived, they went given food and cake. Her father had raise his glass and made a toast for his son and daughter. She didn't remember what he had said, not the seven year boy that share the pudding with her, he had gave her a pin, an ivory carved elephant, he had said his father had brought it from India. He had been nice and sat with her. But that she didn't remember. Her eyes where fixed on the hall room, where the couples danced, drawing invisible circles in the space, and the music was so beautiful. Her father had walked to her and offer his hand, making a curtesy. She grabbed it not sure what to do.

"Just follow me" He guided the girl in slow steps grabbing her by both her hands.

He pull her up suddenly, holding her so they were both eyes level, his right hand holding hers extended. He twirl to one side and the other, moved forward and backward, they bodies moving in the rhythm of the music. She looked at him, she always have liked his father's gray eyes like the sky after sunset seeing through the nursery window, when the last ray of sun is gone and the pink and purple colors reflected on the clouds changed into gray before black. She held his shoulder, and moved her hand toward her father cheek, over the raspy short beard. In that moment they both were pure joy.

The song finished and she hugged her father hard, and he left a chaste kiss over his daughter cheek.

People applauded, and the music started again, she watched the man she loved dearly went to dance with her mother, they too looked happy and she wondered if it was a dream or if fairytales can really become true. From the big felted chair close to the mirror wall, she watched the dance, holding Thomas on her lap, Adelaide sat next to her. Dreams ran free on the girl head, while Thomas was trying to climb on her dress, the rattle firmly held on his little hand, and his two bright eyes now tearless, they were beautiful, like fathers but clearer, baby blue as the unclouded sky.

After that, she could recall any event. She had been carried to the nursery after fall asleep in the hall. It was dark when Lucille woke up. Thomas was on the crib, and she ran to see if the party was over. The nursery door was open, as it has been her father the one that have carried the children with Adelaide, he had left the room last. The house was silent when she made it to the ground floor, and almost got scared to dead to find her mother there. She looked at her like in disgust, grabbed by the arm and walk her upstairs in a hurry.

Neither spoke. Lucille was confused, and when the nursery door closed behind them, her mother slap her cheek pretty hard. A tear started to pool right away while she hold her redden face with one hand.

"Mother?"

"That is for pushing the Nort boy. You must behave like an uneducated savage to my own embarrassment!?"

"But he told-" She was cutted in her speech by her irated mother.

"I don't care what he told. You are used to do as you please and remain as an untamed wild beast. Attack the poor little boy! That is how you treat your guests"

"I did apologize!" He spoke in her defense.

"They will stay here for tomorrow, so listen to me well. I don't want to hear any complain of you misbehaved with those or any other children. Did I made myself clear?"

"Yes, mother" Her voice was quiet and low, trying to avoid another slap.

Her mother left the room, locking the door behind her.

The child ran to the room and pulled Thomas off the crib, the both settled on the bed and Lucille tried to sleep. She was sure the night had not been a fairytale, it had been a dream. She knew this because the dreams always end when you wake up.