by Emily Sharp
Glancing out the large window of her castle, the sun shone in her room, highlighting the stone floor and the ornate Persian rugs that lay on top of it. Getting out of her four-poster bed, she walked over to the window and gazed out at the land that lay beyond, all hers as far as she could see. The mountain range around it belonged to her as well. She had continued buying up property as it came up for sale, and had representatives make offers on homes not for sale, most of the owners saying yes. Except one.
With a snort, she walked across her room and headed to the bathroom to begin preparing for her day. Emerging twenty minutes later, she wore a pair of jeans and a shirt, her hair hanging around her face like it always did. No one had seen her face in over seven years, save Thomas, her butler, who had served her father until his untimely passing and who now served her.
Going to the nightstand next to her bed, she ran her hand over the fine wood. It was imported from Mongolia, crafted by the most talented hands over four hundred years ago.
Smiling she opened a drawer that held two of her favorite masks. If a doctor was called to her home, she would wear the plain white one. The other mask was for very special occasions when she needed to release her rage. But at this moment, there was no rage, only excitement. Closing the drawer, and grabbing a small device off the top of the dresser which fit in the palm of her hand, she spoke into it, her voice demanding. “Anything to report?”
There was no delay, her security team, much like her household staff, knew she was not one for patience.
The voice of John, the head of her security team, came back to her. “No, Ms. Vandercourt. All is fine.” Louise nodded. John was ex-special forces and the head of her security team. Though she was nervous and excited, she was also comforted knowing that her plan he helped prepare would be executed flawlessly.
“Very well. I expect them today, it has been nearly a week since I have seen them pass by.”
“Of course, I thought the same.”
Louise laughed and then headed out of her room. The hallway was long, paintings completed by some of the finest painters of the 20th century hung from the white walls. The rug beneath her feet would cost most people ten years of their living wage. But it was all hers, and there was more money than she knew what to do with. She passed the numerous rooms before moving to the staircase, her hand going to the oak railing. Not feeling the trek, she went to the elevator, just feet away, entered, and hit the button, waiting for it to descend. Once at the bottom she stepped out, her maid, Sofia, waited, facing the wall.
“Madam, I was not sure when you were coming down. I have no yet prepared your breakfast.”
Louise stepped up closer, her hand moving to the blond hair that hung to Sofia’s shoulders. Taking the locks in one hand, she loved the feeling of the silkiness of it. “Have you decided on what you are to do?” she asked, smiling as the woman trembled in fear. Sofia had told her she wanted to approach one of the men who worked in the gardens, to ask him to join her for lunch.
“I am going to keep busy working, there is no time for that.”
Louise nodded, letting go of her hair. “I am impressed with your decision. He would have left you with a child anyway once he had his way with you,” Louise said, a laugh to her voice. “Let’s be honest, you would spread your legs for any man, would you not?
“Of course, Madam, you are right,” Sofia said, her voice shaky, bringing a crooked smile to Louise's face. The smile was one of power that coursed through Louise’s blood.
“Good. Never forget, you must continue to serve me always,” Louise said. Then not hearing a response, pulled on the hair just enough to make the woman’s head tilt to the side, a cry of pain coming out.
“Of course, Madam,” Sofia cried.
“That’s better. For my breakfast I want toast, juice, coffee, and fruit, and I want it now,” Louise said, then walked down a short hallway.
“Madam, in the library?”
“Do not ask dumb questions, Sofia,” Louise said, then opened a section of the wall and entered another smaller hallway, which ran behind most of the rooms on the first floor. This was a secret passageway built for her, like the rest of the castle, by her father. A place meant for fun and playing tricks on guests, it served her purpose of moving without being seen by most of the staff. There were only two people that lived and worked inside the castle, but with security, maintenance, and others often needing to come in, Louise played it safe.
When she got to one of the last doors, she opened it and stepped through into her library. The room was massive, near one hundred feet wide and double that long. Tall wooden bookcases handcrafted by a woodsman from Germany stood floor to ceiling, the tomes in it ancient and all valuable. She closed the section of the wall that made up the secret door behind her, then walked over and let her hand run across the black grand piano. She did not play nor did she care to, but her butler or anyone else she deemed worthy was allowed to play for her on her request.
To her left stood large windows looking out to her gardens that were modeled after the ones in Kensington. With finely sculptured shrubbery and gravel paths, it looked as if it came out of a fairy tale, much like the castle she resided in. That is what her father had told her, that she was a princess, and they deserved their own castle. She was told this news on her thirteenth birthday, that the work had begun and one day she would lay claim to it.
But the fairy tale dreams she had were now ended. They were foolish things to dream about, stories told to kids to give them false hope. There was no princess to come and sweep her off her feet, no love to be shared. Instead of ‘Happily ever after’ they should end the stories with ‘And then reality hit, and they wept, for there was no love to be found.’
Louise stepped into the bay area of the window, the plush cushioning soft to her touch as she sat against them, looking out at her garden. Love could not be found, but it could be bought. With the fortune she had, it would impress any woman, especially the one whose father could not get a loan, something she had made sure of.
A smile came to her face, a rare sight indeed if anyone was able to notice.
She had started watching the woman and her father since the day they moved into their shack. And for over the last year, she had watched them intensely without their knowledge. The man and his daughter going for their walks, their conversations of better days ahead making Louise want to puke. But the girl, she was beautiful, although that word alone did not do her justice. No, she was beyond beautiful, and she would belong to Louise soon enough, the trap having been set.
“Your food, Madam,” Sofia said, coming into the library, her footsteps soft against the floor. She had been heavy-footed when she first started seven years ago, but a dock of pay on her next check had brought an end to that.
Louise smiled in approval as Sofia walked up with the silver tray in her hands that held her breakfast. But it was Sofia's face, looking down to the ground where it belonged, that brought about the approval.
Setting the tray next to her on a small stand, Sofia stood back, her head still low, her hands clasped in front of her. She was a pretty woman, with a well-defined body and would have no trouble in life finding someone based on looks alone. But Louise was not going to allow that.
“There is no doubt you would have been used like a common street whore,” Louise said, reaching for her tea and waiting for the slightest hint of aggression from her.
“Yes, Madam.”
“You are better off spending your life here with me. But if you must fornicate, by all means go to Denver and please a man you meet at a bar. Or perhaps many?” she said, then took a sip of her tea.
“No, Madam. I will only love one man, and one day I will meet...” Sofia started to say, before Louise cut her off.
“Yes, I know of your dreams. You will find a man who loves you. You will get married, and then you will start popping out kids. And finally a happy family, correct?”
Sofia nodded.
Louise felt sick, her stom
ach churning. “It will not happen. He will grow tired of you, despise you, and end up not wanting to look at you!” Louise bellowed, throwing the china cup and watching it shatter on the stone floor. “That tea is horrible. Clean that mess up and bring me a proper cup of tea or so help me God, I will call immigration services today and tell them you stole from me!”
Sofia nodded, hurrying over and picking up the pieces of shattered china. Louise stood up, her anger taking over, not able to control her rage. Talks of love and happiness angered her, not the tea. Sofia was a fool to believe the idea of true love was out there in the world.
“Do not ever provoke me again with your foolish talk. I do not care what you feel or think!” she yelled, throwing the stand over, the remaining food and tray falling to the floor.
“I am sorry, Madam!” Sofia cried out, rushing over and hurrying to collect the items. Oh, how this woman reminded of her of so much pain. Louise found her hand reaching out, wanting to strike the woman. Instead, she whispered, “Get my tea and everything will be fine.”
Sofia nodded, and then with the mess cleaned up, hurried out of the room. Louise let out a sigh, her rage slowly leaving her, the pulsing in her temples now gone.
Her transmitter went off, and taking it from the place holder on her belt, John’s voice came to her.
“Ms. Vandercourt, they are approaching.”
“The drones?”
“Already above doing their job. Screen eighteen.”
“Excellent. Await my command,” Louise said, then returned the intercom to her belt. Hurrying over to the far east wall, she grabbed the remote and hit a button. The large purple curtains trimmed in gold moved apart, revealing twenty large screens. She could see any part of her home, inside and out, and more importantly all the area and more around it. True to John’s words, she could see the two of them walking, and using the remote, let the sound of them talking come to her ears. And what words they were, a smile coming across her face for the second time that day. They hoped for a better day, and little did they know, it was going to be one. Well, for Louise at least.
She grew impatient as they yapped, and then they continued walking, the fear of them retreating back to their own home now leaving her. Tapping her foot she urged them on, the drone above them catching every word, the quality of the picture like a movie.
Her heart leapt as the father helped the daughter over the fallen barbed wire that she had John prepare. And then she laughed as she watched the knife come out.
A moment later she picked up the intercom as the girl received the rose. Louise licked her lips, tasting the victory already.
“Bring my new wife to me.”
***
After dismissing Sofia and her blubbering apologies, Louise took her tea and sat in a large chair once owned by King Louis XIV, its wood strong, the gold fabric bright, and the seating soft. It was luxurious and rare, like everything else Louise owned, and like the woman who would be her wife, the Beauty as finely made as the chair, her eyes and skin more luxurious than any item Louise owned, or so she imagined. Since the woman was so poor, and their talks of lack of money making them desperate, Louise could offer the girl everything she dreamed of. And she knew the woman’s dreams, hearing her speak to her father often of them. Louise could provide whatever the woman desired in exchange for her commitment to her. And then, at last, she would not be alone.
Sinking back into her chair, she began to plan the wedding she would hold here in the castle, her thoughts interrupted when Thomas, her butler, entered, wearing the traditional tux he insisted on wearing. He was now over sixty, the gray on his head replacing the brown she remembered as a child. His strides were long on his tall and narrow body, his nose, still crooked, making her laugh as a child.
“The sun is out, Louise, you should enjoy your gardens,” he said, coming to a stop just a few feet away from her. His face was kind as always, and she was amazed at how well he hid his disgust of her face, not even once appearing repulsed. But then, she paid him well, and money could buy anything, even loyalty.
“Maybe one day, but not today. I will have a guest arriving within the hour.”
“I see. Shall I prepare a lunch?”
Louise thought about it for a moment. “I am not sure at this point. The room next to mine though…”
“Yes?”
“Prepare it. The new items are in there. Make sure it is perfect.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“No. Leave me.”
Thomas gave a quick bow of his head, and as quickly as he entered, he left, closing the double wooden doors behind him.
Her intercom squawked, the sound unintelligible.
“Come again?”
“We are on our way.”
Louise stood up, setting her cup to the side. After all her planning, her bride was finally here.
Chapter Three
Adara sat in silence in the backseat of the large truck, her father beside her. His hand reached out to take hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The men had asked them to remain quiet, and her father’s nod to her said she had better listen.
The dirt road was smooth, no doubt having been leveled out by a tractor, the bumps few and far between. Looking out her window, the endless fields passed by them in a flash. Adara looked down at her left hand, which held the beautiful rose. How could something so precious bring on such fear, she wondered. Her father giving her hand a squeeze caused her to look up.
After passing through a gate off the country road, they were now on a road made of tarmac, the truck they were in moving even faster, the other not far behind. But up front, with mountain peaks behind it, the large castle came once again into view. And what a grand view it was, the large structure looking as though it was ripped from the pages of a fairy tale and plopped down in the middle of nowhere. As they got closer, despite the circumstances, Adara found herself smiling. A real life castle. Maybe the princess inside would be kind and understanding about the reason the rose was taken, and then perhaps after some small talk, she would wish them well and send them on their way.
They came to a high wall made of stone, its height at least ten feet. Black cast iron gates, the initials ‘L’ on one and ‘V’ on the other, swung open allowing them to enter. The castle grounds contained numerous shrubbery, trees, and rows upon rows of hedges. A few men were out on riding mowers, the blades cutting the dark green grass. A large water fountain with a cherub was set in the middle of the circular driveway, the water pouring forth.
“You will be presented to the lady of the castle. My only advice is let her talk first,” the gray-haired man who refused to give his name said. A moment later, the truck was turned off, and then the door opened, and Adara stepped out.
The sun shone down on the castle, its rays highlighting the sculptured walls made of what appeared to be white slate. Or was it marble? There were four large spires, one on each end of the castle, though only two could be seen in their entirety from where she stood. The windows were immense, the ones on the top level stained with red, blue, and other colors.
“Follow me,” the man said. There were two guards in front of them and two behind as they went to the white marble steps, which were at least thirty feet long, and then to a large oak door, its handle made of gold.
Opening it, only the man who spoke to them entered, the other three waiting outside. Adara looked over at her dad, his face looking a bit worried. “It will be fine, you’ll see,” she whispered, making him smile, though she was a bit worried.
They were in a large foyer, the gray slate on the floor hard, though most of it was covered by a large circular rug, the shame shape of the room and red in color with gold flower designs on it. In front of her and to her left was a large staircase running against the wall and paintings hung on the wall along it. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed one she had seen in a book before, painted by none other than the master himself, Leonardo.
“This way.” The man spoke harshly, and they follo
wed him to the right and through a door. A small hallway was in front of her, decorated much like the foyer, and they walked down it until the man stopped in front of a set of double doors.
“Enter and only approach as far as you are told.”
“All right, this is getting a bit out of hand,” her father said, his voice a bit shaky.
“Then perhaps in the future you will not steal,” the guard replied before opening the door.
“It’s OK, Dad, let’s go inside and maybe we’ll be able to work something out,” Adara said as they stepped inside the room. The guard closed the doors behind them, and Adara took a few moments to soak in the large library. Her eyes ran over the tall bookcases, the grand piano, the ancient furniture. Adara had once had nice things in life, but this way beyond nice, this was wealth. Then her eyes fell on a figure sitting on a chair, tall red drapes behind her, the sunlight highlighting the area between the figure and them.
“Welcome to my castle. You may approach…slowly,” the female voice said.
Adara looked at her father. He nodded, and they both walked toward the figure. As they moved closer, Adara watched the figure take shape. Her chair sat at an angle, the left side of her face coming into view. And what a view it was. Smooth skin, a perfectly sculpted nose, and a high cheek bone. The woman was beautiful, the face and posture of a model.
“Enough. Sit there,” the woman said, pointing her finger at a two-seater couch. They both sat on the couch, the leather soft against her bare arms. Holding the rose in both hands, Adara slowly moved it in her fingers.
“I would like to apologize for the misunderstanding…” her father said, breaking the silence.
“Were you not warned to remain silent?”
“We were,” Adara said, not liking the woman’s tone toward her father. She may be pretty, but she sure was condescending.
