‘Shut up!’ Briette snapped as she spun around and slapped poor Iris across the cheek, ‘You will not talk to me like that! You horrid old bag. You should be grateful that my parents thought you worthy enough to work here, or you’d still be selling your pitiful roses on the street side!’ Briette was shrieking by this time, and while at times she would ignore Iris’ mutterings when things were not going her way, she found Iris a more than worthy scapegoat.
She had been waiting for Prince Bastien to call upon her all day and since he had not shown up, she wondered if he was out romancing other suitable young ‘ladies’.
Briette did not kid herself. She knew a man as rich and as desirable as Bastien would be sought after, and that he was young with blood pumping through his veins. She knew the young women that chased him were no more ladies than herself, and Bastien no more a gentleman. If she was to keep her prospects high and her beau’s eyes on her alone, she knew she would have to walk a dangerous path.
Her mother knocked on the door at quarter past seven, ‘Briette, the guests are starting to arrive.’
‘Yes, Mother,’ she crooned. Before she left her room, she made sure she took a small red bag that had been tucked away in the bottom of her draw. If she was going to keep Bastien she had to eliminate the competition, and Florina Christensen was first on the list. While not much competition in her eyes, she had seen the way Florina had cooed over Bastien, winding her Blonde hair round her finger as she spoke to him. He had even touched her gently on the elbow one day, followed by a mischievous wink.
***
The sound of wineglasses clicking and merry laughter teased Briette from below. She stood for a moment in her doorway, wondering if her plan would work. Then she cast it from her mind, preparing herself for her entrance.
Briette cascaded her way down the banister. Guests paused mid speech to acknowledge the very beautiful daughter of their host and hostess. They secretly nodded at each other, most of them remembering what a chubby, plain child she had been until she started to develop, and her beauty seemed to increase more and more every year.
No one could have imagined the dark desires that lurked beneath her sweet, endearing smile. Round and round the thoughts swirled in her head, night and day she fantasized about being Princess Briette Von Croy. Then, she would have the power she had always wanted. And she was about to let no one stand in her way.
Florina had also walked in the door the same time as Briette had made her entrance. Briette rolled her eyes, jealous that Florina had garnered some of her attention.
She smiled sweetly at Florina though- she had to keep up appearances. Florina’s long flaxen hair was pulled up high on her forehead, she looked rather regal. She was an outspoken girl, but not in a rude way. She knew exactly what to say and how to play the part of the perfect hostess and how to hold menial, but necessary, conversation with polite society.
Briette hated her. She had come to hate her shortly after her twelfth birthday. Once, they had been the best of friends until that day in the woods. Briette’s secret pain she spoke of to no one, and her parents had pretended it had never happened. It was probably the right thing to do, as it did save her reputation, but Briette had gotten her own revenge. Briette remembered how Florina had abandoned her and she felt no qualms tonight about what she was about to do.
Briette excused herself from the other guest. Making her way over to Florina, she embraced her warmly. ‘Here,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Let me put your belongings away.’
‘Why thank you.’ Florina smiled, suspicious of Briette’s sudden kindness, but shrugging it off as a pretentious party act. Briette’s heart was pounding as she hurried along the golden corridors of the castle. Her palms weeping with sweat, or was it guilty, salty tears? She could hear that the music had softened now, that meant more guest were arriving, because the orchestra had quietened down to help eliminate too much noise.
Briette knew she had to hurry. She tiptoed into the storage closet and started rummaging through her pocket but was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. It was Mrs. Seifert, her old headmistress. ‘Briette, what are you doing in here? You startled me!’ Mrs. Seifert laughed.
‘Oh, just putting my coat away,’ she lied sweetly. Mrs. Seifert smiled as she took off her lavish coat; it had been made from the fur of Olixises (a small, fox like creature, with white fur, that had flex of rainbow tinges throughout its coat). Sadly, they were now all extinct, due to too many hunting parties by elite society. Placing her coat on a hook, she left. As Briette looked up, something sparkly hanging out of the pocket caught her eye. Once she had finished what she was doing, she closed the door behind her, and hurried back to the party.
The party continued on, with guests drinking away merrily, ladies sipping on champagne, the men something a little stronger. The platters were divine spreads of duck, turkey, ham, beef, even phoenix and dragon claw soup. No expense had been spared. The compliments kept on coming to the hostess, Briette’s mother.
Briette had slipped seamlessly back into the room, taking a glass of champagne and appetisers as she danced away merrily, as if she had been there the whole time. She couldn’t help but look at the clock every five minutes, as Bastien had not made his appearance yet. Where was he? What could possibly be more important than her party? He was always putting his own engagements above hers and the one engagement she longed for she hadn’t gotten yet.
The hours passed as Briette danced the night away, spoke of pleasant things to unpleasant ladies and even more unpleasant men; who looked her up and down and accidentally bumped her hips, or lingered their eyes for just a moment too long on her cleavage.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her hand. She turned to see Bastien’s charming face. Where in the name of St. Lavena had he been; the party was half over! Not wanting to cause a scene, she pleasantly nodded her head in his direction as she grabbed another glass of champagne and headed in the opposite direction. Bastien suddenly latched onto her hand.
‘Kiss me,’ he whispered. Briette half smiled, trying to ignore him. Tonight, she was on show, everyone would be watching everyone, and anyone that engaged in even the slightest bit of misconduct would be gossiped about and looked down upon for weeks. She didn’t need to be falling all over Bastien, leaving everyone to think goodness knows what of her. He squeezed her tightly, whispering in a hoarse voice, ‘How dare you deny me a kiss! Do you think that’s funny to play these childish games with me?’
‘But dear,’ Briette crooned. ‘You react so passionately, and I love to see the passion in your eyes!’
‘What do you know of passion?’ Bastien snarled. ‘You are only a little child!’
Briette dug her fingernails into Bastien’s hand. ‘Where have you been?’ she spat, her lips pursed bitterly. She let go and she quickly established herself with some other group of people. They began to chat away merrily, and then all of a sudden, there was a wild shriek from a woman. It was Mrs. Seifert.
‘My necklace!’ she was screaming. ‘It’s gone! Someone’s taken it!
‘Now, now, calm down dear,’ her husband crooned. ‘Perhaps you left it at home.’
‘No, I put it in my pocket, and I just went back to the coatroom to get it to put it on, and it’s gone!’ Mrs. Seifert was becoming very red in the face by this time. ‘No, I definitely brought it with me!’ Suddenly her eyes flashed at Briette. ‘You!’ She scowled. ‘You were in there when I put my coat away. What have you done with it?’
‘Nothing!’ Briette gasped in shock. This was not how her plan was supposed to go! Briette broke into tears; this had always been a very reliable method when she was a child to get out of unpleasant situations.
Bastien rolled his eyes, another drama, how like Briette. He grabbed a large handful of mini toasts, a glass of wine and nestled in to watch the show.
‘How dare you!’ Briette’s mother scowled coming between her daughter and her accuser. She was a thin, willowy woman, tall and regal with eyes like that of a tigress—eyes
that closed in on the plump, short woman ruining her party and her daughter’s reputation.
‘I invite you into my home to attend one of my parties, and let me tell you, I don’t just allow anyone in, and this is how you display your party manners and show gratitude, by accusing my daughter of being a thief? We are one of the richest families in the land, and may I add, most respected! Why we could buy that little sparkly necklace of yours one hundred times over…’
‘I beg your pardon!’ Mrs. Seifert cut in. ‘That was a one hundred thousand oopa necklace!’
‘Oh, sorry, I meant a million times over and there’d still be change…’ Briette’s mother hissed in a low, snarling tone.
‘Flaunting your wealth in front of your guest doesn’t take away from the fact that your daughter stole my necklace!’
‘Why was it in your coat pocket if it was so valuable then?’ Briette’s mother sneered.
‘I was in a hurry and forgot to put it on. I was worried I would be late to the party, and offend you, not that I should have bothered about that!’
Mr. Seifert touched his wife on the arm, ‘Let’s not make a big deal of it dear-we are civilized people after all-and we don’t want to offend our hosts, as you said. I’m sure the local sheriff can sort this out!’
Mrs. Seifert began to calm down a little; she knew she was caught in an impossible situation.
‘Very well, then.’ She sighed, almost in tears. By this time the party had lost the merry faces, and people were going backwards and forewords to the coat room to collect their belongings. Briette saw her chance, slipping away, she ducked into the coat room; it was full of people pushing and shoving, not being able to get away fast enough. Briette grabbed Florina’s coat, and ran back to the party to make sure Mrs. Seifert hadn’t left yet.
Briette snuck up to Florina. She didn’t want Mrs. Seifert to see her handing the coat to her, or she’d probably guess what she had done. Briette motioned to Florina, that she had her coat- and as Florina went to reach for it- Briette let it slip through her fingers. The coat fell to the floor, where upon some interesting contents fell out of the pocket. ‘Here let me get that!’ Briette beamed in a loud voice, making everyone stop and look at her. Suddenly, Briette screamed.
‘What’s this?’ she shrieked, picking up a small, clear bag of white powder.
‘She’s got Pixie Dust!’ someone shrieked, but another item lay on the floor, Mrs. Seifert’s one hundred thousand oppa necklace. Mr. Laurents, the Headmaster of St. Elliot’s (an elite private school where Florina’s younger brother attended) bent down to pick it up.
‘I think we’ve found our thief,’ he snarled.
Mr. Laurents shook his head violently. ‘Well, I don’t think we want families like this at my school!’
‘I don’t know how that got there! I would never take anything…’ Florina burst into tears. ‘These things aren’t mine!’ she tried to explain.
Everyone was looking at her shaking their heads, including Briette. Suddenly, Florina took off, ashamed and her good name in tatters, the house was ripe with chatter and shaking heads.
Briette went to the window to watch Florina run off into the cold, frozen snowy night. As she watched her friend leave in disgrace, the corners of her mouth were upturned in a smug, satisfied smile. Florina stopped for a minute, to catch her breath. She was in shock, by what had just happened, who had done this to her? She turned back to look at the house, through tear-stained eyes. She gasped as she caught a glimpse of Briette closing the curtain, her smile said it all.
Chapter Sixteen: Florina’s Revenge
Florina had made it home safely; it had taken her half an hour running. Her heart pounding with grief, she couldn’t belief that Briette had been so cruel, so evil! Florina felt hot tears explode onto her checks, as she pushed them away, determined to finally have revenge on Briette Baumgartner!
She ran up the stairs of her family’s stately mansion to her room where she had kept something secret for far too long. Florina rummaged through her drawers; she knew what she was after was here somewhere! She hadn’t seen them for ages, they hurt too much, and she had buried them deep in her belongings. Finally, she came across a worn, red, leather sachet, she opened it to see its sacred contents spilling out. Sheets and sheets of pink paper scribbled with longings and intentions of love. She knew that one day these letters would come in handy; tonight, she would watch Briette crash and burn.
Florina left her house, she shivered at the chill that now permeated the air, and she asked one of the servants to give her a ride in the buggy.
Suddenly, she heard her name called, ‘Florina? Where are you going?’ It was her little brother.
‘Back to the Baumgartner’s, I had to duck home as I forgot something.’ She smiled sweetly, not wanting to alarm him.
‘Oh.’ He nodded. ‘Well have fun for me!’ Darby was a bookish boy and while he was old enough that he could have attended the party, he wished to stay home and study instead. He wanted to be a doctor and spent many a night devouring with great ferocity books on herbs and diseases. As he stood on the veranda, he watched his sister and buggy disappear into the unforgiving night.
***
The buggy pulled up outside the Baumgartner mansion. ‘Are you sure you’re alright Miss Christensen?’ the driver asked.
‘Yes, better than ever!’ Florina assured him, the slight quiver in her voice giving away her true feelings. She was about to taste the sweets of revenge, something that she had been dying to do for a long time. Stepping out of the carriage, she pulled the letters close to her chest. She had held onto these for the past…very aware of the treacherous friendship she had with Briette. She knew that one day she may be betrayed, and she kept these as her backup, in case she ever needed to remind Briette of what she had sacrificed for her. She could hear all the party guest downstairs, and she entered through the back door, where she knew she’d never get caught. She had come to the mansion many times as a young girl, when she and Briette had been best friends. She knew the routine of the whole family very well. Whenever there was a party, the maids were not allowed to be in the kitchen. They had to serve the guests all night, continuously serving food and alcohol until the last guest left. Mrs. Baumgartner firmly believed that if the guests were plied with food and drink all night, that they would never leave the party unsatisfied. Most importantly, they would tell all their friends what a wonderful time they had had, and her parties were always the envy of other hosts and hostesses.
All the food was always laid out on the table in the spare room at the beginning of the evening, and it was here the maids would serve the food from. Florina knew that if she came through the kitchen and into the hallway, she could sneak up the stairs, as the main room where the party was happening was through a door just off the stairwell.
Florina tiptoed up to the second floor, and into Briette’s room. She opened the sachet to reveal delicate pink paper-love letters-which she started to scatter all over the floor, and on her bed. She giggled as it felt good to finally let go of these stupid letters, and she knew Briette would lose Bastien’s love now and her title as future princess.
Florina knew that at some point in the party, or if not at least after it, that Briette would sneak Bastien into her bedroom. She knew what type of relationship they had, as Briette had taken great delight over the years to plonk herself down beside Florina during lunch times at school and regal her of her sexually explicit exploits with the future king of Thraxia.
Pretty much all the girls in their grade knew which positions Briette and Bastien had done it in, and that they always managed to get some alone time during or after the parties. Briette thought it was hilarious that no one noticed them disappearing during the parties, and she always said that her parents’ parties always ended with a bang, for her and Bastien at least.
Florina shut the door behind her, a tinge of guilt hit her in the heart, but she reassured herself that if she was destroyed, then so Briette would be too.
/> ***
The party had been going for a good few hours, and Bastien had consumed a large amount of Alcohol. He was starting to feel relaxed and in need of some relief from Briette. He went looking for her and found her giggling by an ice sculpture fountain that was spurting forth some sort of wine. She looked as though she may have been high on Pixie dust too. It was something they did regularly together. Being the future King and living up to his image was something he lived for, it was his destiny, but sometimes, he just wanted to have fun, and when he was with Briette, she allowed him to let go.
She looked up; her eyes glazed. ‘Hi handsome,’ she slurred, and then began to giggle hysterically. Bastien bent down, kissing her passionately, as his tongue found its way inside her mouth. He could taste the pixie dust.
‘Give me some,’ he begged sweetly. ‘Some of your pixie dust and some of you.’ Briette kissed him back, as she ran her hands down his strong chest. Some of the party guests looked up, half intoxicated, as they leaned against the wall, they were too high and too drunk to care, (by now, the more uptight and sensible guest had gone home) but they knew what she was about to do. It happened at every party. Briette held out her hand, and Bastien grabbed it gently, pulling her towards him.
‘I go first, then you.’ She winked, as always. They had a system. Bastien walked off into the main entertainment area as he made casual chitchat with some of the more sober guests as he would circumnavigate his way around the room for ten minutes. While Briette took the long way to her bedroom, to avoid suspicion and get herself ready.
This time, though, Briette was detained by her mother. ‘Briette!’ she screeched. ‘Come here, darling!’ She fell into her daughter’s arms, nearly knocking them both to the floor. ‘Mother!’ Briette cried. ‘What are you doing?’
The Count of Wolf Blood Castle Page 10
