Sticky-fingered Maid

"Tea, Miss."

Arabella's fingers stilled on the ivory keys of the drawing room's piano. At once, her head lifted, attention snapping from the melody to Aubrey in the doorway, followed in tow by Carol. A spark of anticipation flickered through her chest, so sudden it embarrassed her. She cleared her throat, rose with practised poise, and moved toward the table as if it were nothing at all.

It had been scarcely a week since her abrupt return to the past, and she was still adjusting. The memory of imprisonment clung to her like a shadow. Fighting for scraps had become her daily routine then, and though this body had never known starvation, her mind could not so easily forget it. Food stirred something restless in her now: eagerness she tried to hide, temptation she tried not to indulge. She had to remind herself not to gorge while it was plentiful, not to devour simply because she could.

And so, as Arabella tucked herself into her seat, she focused not on the spread before her but on the third lingering presence in the room.

Carol stood by her side diligently, waiting to pour tea or bring over cream when asked. She seemed ot have settled into a sense of false security since the incident two days ago, having gained a 'scapegoat' in Aubrey. That much was evident, as yet another piece of jewellery had been conveniently misplaced. She was growing bolder.

Aubrey remained as tight-lipped and indecipherable as Arabella had always remembered her to be, ignoring the palpable tension in the room.

"Aubrey, please clear the table."

With a curtsy, Aubrey left the room, trollying the empty dishes away.

Arabella locked eyes with the red-haired girl standing across from the table.

"Carol, I wanted to speak to you in private," Arabella began, resting her cheek in her hand and lowering her gaze dangerously. "More has gone missing this morning."

Carol's composure was impressive. A controlled smile made its way to her lips as she nodded, pausing for a calculated moment before lowering her voice conspiratorially, "...Yes. I've noticed too, Miss. I've been keeping a close eye on Aubrey ever since."

Arabella allowed an uncomfortable silence to settle. Unintentional at first. She felt her lip quirk into an incredulous smirk before she quickly centred her expression. The ease with which Carol could lie with a smile was awe-inspiring. Even with their brief silent staring match, the girl had yet to flinch.

Relenting, Arabella sat up straighter, easing the atmosphere, "...That's good. I'm relieved to have someone so astute." Arabella pushed away from the table and stood, crossing her arms and looking aside in thought. "I mulled over the situation for long enough and already spoke to my brother to investigate the issue. He will have the staff's quarters searched."

A pin drop could be heard. Carol stiffened, her brown eyes widening as her smile fell lopsided and awkward within the blink of an eye. Arabella raised a brow as she noted the slow bob of Carol's throat. The maid evened out her smile into something wry, "The... The Earl?" Arabella nodded pointedly. Time moved at a snail's pace, gears slowly winding in the back of Carol's mind as she navigated the situation like a tiger's den. "Well.. We already know Aubrey is the culprit." Carol laughed airily, expecting Arabella to catch the implication. Arabella only raised her brow higher. In the wake of the silence, begrudgingly, Carol continued. "As we know the culprit... surely, it would just be wasting the Earl's... time..."

Carol trailed off into silence as Arabella's expression remained alarmingly still.

"Carol..." Arabella began.

"Yes?"

Arabella took a step forward. She was shorter than Carol at this age, yet the severity of her gaze made the taller girl stiffen.

"Remember yourself."

Carol froze and pressed her lips together tightly.

"I don't believe I asked for your permission," Arabella finished, a pointed stare accompanying her words.

"...O-Of course, Miss Lockhart," Carol bristled slightly, her nails digging into her palms as she averted her panicked gaze. After a deep breath and much willpower, she spoke up, wrenching her hands together behind her back. "May I ask... when the search will commence? What exactly did you tell the Earl?"

Arabella blinked before her lips quirked into a small, disarming smile, "...That is confidential. A simple warning, so you are not startled when it happens." Despite her efforts, Arabella couldn't contain the slight taunt in her tone. "You're roommates... are you not?"

____________________________________________________________________________

Carol lay awake in the dead of the night, unable to shake away the afternoon's conversation.

She had reckoned that her 'hobby' would have to come to an end eventually, but an investigation...? Carol let out a nervous sigh as she moved her unblinking stare from the ceiling to Aubrey's sleeping form, barely visible in the darkness, in the bed across the room. Carol kept a close eye on her as she silently crept out of her sheets and tiptoed across the cool wood, stopping just short of the door.

It could happen at any moment. For all she knew, officers would be at the manor tomorrow morning. With jittery fingers, Carol brushed her tousled hair out of the way and planted her ear to the door—no sound in the halls. Everyone else was sure to be fast asleep by now.

Which meant she had time to rectify the situation. A handful of hours before the sun rose, to be exact.

Biting her thumb hard, Carol quietly returned to her bedside, watching Aubrey with a glance before pulling out the box containing her many treasures: Velvet ribbons, perfumes in intricate glass bottles, and shimmering jewellery that caught the moonlight. All hers. Carol's chest tightened at the thought of surrendering them. But she had no choice.

Perhaps if everything returned to its rightful place, Arabella would be written off as having yet another one of her fits...Even if she refused to accept being in the wrong, as was most often the case with the temperamental girl, Aubrey was the object of her ire. It would not be such a crime if Aubrey took the fall. Aubrey was quiet, always alone at dinner time, always first to wake and first out of the door. No one would be too hurt.

Box in hand, Carol crept through the dark manor until she reached the familiar door. This would be the most difficult part, but she was certain that Arabella would be fast asleep this late into the night. Carol swallowed anxiously as she nudged the door open and slipped inside. With a careful glance towards the large four-poster bed opposite, she sighed in soft relief at the still figure beneath the sheets and the gentle sound of slow breathing before getting to work, returning each item. It took her only a few minutes to complete the task as quietly as possible; she was used to pocketing such items in silence after all.

Regardless, anxiety continued to gnaw at her mind. Arabella had told her plainly that she suspected Aubrey, yet what if it had only been a diversion? What if Arabella had already whispered her name to the Earl? What if it were written somewhere, just waiting to be read aloud?

Carol's gaze flicked across the room, towards the writing desk. Taking a deep breath, she rushed to it. Deftly, she listened to the quiet click as she opened the false bottom of the drawer, just as she'd discovered a few months ago. With the journal in hand, she rushed to flip open the pages.

"Turn and face me, Carol." Carol only barely held back a startled yell at the sudden voice from behind her, freezing right on the spot. The dreadfully familiar voice continued calmly. "Don't test my patience."

Trembling, Carol obliged, turning slowly on her heel. The journal remained tucked in her knuckle white grip, as her palms grew clammy. Arabella sat, cross-legged at the edge of her bed, chin lifted imperceptibly.

"If I rang this bell right now, how many people would come running?" Arabella spoke languidly, her face bearing a perfectly measured expression. Carol watched with horror as the young girl's fingers toyed with the woven fabric, only one quick tug away from alerting every member of staff in the manor.

Carol's tongue caught in her throat as her mind raced. Her face grew paler as her heart raced and she scrambled for words. With wide brown eyes still glued to the gentle sway of the bell rope in Arabella's hand, Carol breathed out, terrified, heart racing, "S-She made me do this. A-Aubrey did..."

Arabella raised her brow high, "And why is that? Did she know about the search?"

"W...Well..."

"After I explicitly told you that said search was confidential? It sounds as though you're culpable." At that, Carol's face reddened to match her hair as she averted her wide brown eyes to her shoes in panic. Arabella eyed her carefully, letting her gaze flit from the journal in Carol's trembling grip, to the removed false panel, and finally to her dressing table, in which a variety of perfumes had returned. She touched her chin in thought, letting the heavy silence simmer, "So you were the thief after all. My brother will not be pleased to hear this."

Tears sprang forth in Carol's eyes as she dropped to her knees, the journal falling out of her grip, "N-No! That's wrong! Aubrey threatened me to do this!" The girl let out a sob as she continued. "Please, Miss Lockhart, believe me! It's the honest truth..." Carol flinched slightly as she watched Arabella stand and make her way towards her. The tears she had forced out came to an involuntary stop when Arabella stopped before her, the fabric of her white nightgown rustling with the movement. Carol swallowed hard, unable to meet her penetrating gaze. She clearly was not buying the act. "Will... Will you tell the Earl?"

Arabella remained silent for a while before casually tilting her head down at her, "Why should I? Are you the villain?" Carol's jaw slacked as the tears dried up. Arabella let out a sharp sigh. "All you wanted was what you felt you were owed. Clearly, you must be displeased in some way with your role here." She hummed contemplatively. "Perhaps I offended you? Or is it my family that dealt the insult? To steal from a grieving household..." She tilted her head, the smile on her lips deceptively sweet. "You must have been wronged in a rather grievous way. I'm sure other noble houses would be understanding were you to seek better employment."

Carol bit her lip hard. Arabella's smile deepened, as though she had caught the scent of blood in the water.

It was no secret to Arabella that Carol dreamed of better things, and the Lockhart estate was only a rung on the ladder for her. Many servants before her had done the same, moving on to greater houses with the Earl's recommendation in hand. Arabella considered what could have tempted Carol into Cecil's service, enough to help cover up a murder. Cecil was not generous enough to waste a fortune on a maid. And, for Carol to take such a risk, the reward had to be more than coin. Had it been mere intimidation, Carol would have been disposed of long after she testified.

No, Cecil would have offered something else. A position in the palace.

Arabella's chest tightened with something complex. She could not quite hate Carol. The girl was clever, quick to lie, unflinching under scrutiny. Those tears glittering in Carol's eyes were no more real than the ones Arabella herself had once faked as a child. How could she hate someone with the traits she was trying to cultivate herself to take down Cecil?

But there was the problem. Carol's cunning was always turned inward. She looked out for herself before anyone, without fear, without hesitation. If she were to be of any use, that would have to change.

"Carol..." Arabella began, taking Carol's hands into her own and speaking slowly. "There is nothing that nobles love more than their precious belongings. And nothing they despise more than a thief. In Aurumia, such crimes are not treated kindly."

A bead of sweat slipped down Carol's cheek. Arabella's voice, calm and almost reflective, did not falter.

"Our prisons are crueller than those of Nyotari. Rats scour every corner for scraps that do not exist. Every crumb is gone, swallowed down by you, no matter how filthy, just to keep breathing. And when there is nothing left, the rats turn on flesh. They gnaw at you while you lie helpless on stone floors, too weak from hunger to swat them away."

Carol's fingers twitched under Arabella's tightening grip.

"You pray for execution, because that comes faster than the cold, or the disease that spreads like fire through the cells."

For a moment, Arabella's faded eyes seemed almost wistful, though she forced them away as quickly as they appeared into a faded smile.

"...Or so I've heard."

Finally, Arabella released Carol's hand and was met with her stunned silence. "You wouldn't want to find yourself in such a situation now, would you?"

Carol merely gaped stupidly, like a fish at the young girl before her who suddenly seemed more like a jaded adult than a fourteen-year-old child at that moment. Dumbly, she lowered her head in silent dread, "N-No..."

"But can I trust you again?" Arabella lifted her chin as she scrutinised her. "Is that your 'honest truth'?"

"You can trust me, Miss Lockhart!" Carol scrambled to answer through chattering teeth, almost sounding delirious. "I... I won't ever allow such a thing to happen again. I assure you."

Arabella remained silent for yet another long moment as Carol trembled. With a silent, amused huff under her breath, Arabella smiled, "Then, I suppose I must take your word. Getting rid of you so rashly would be such a waste." Arabella offered a hand to the still kneeling Carol, who stared at it apprehensivly before taking it. "If no such incident arises again, I may be able to let this go. If it does... Well, we've covered that extensively by now, haven't we?"

Carol, still dumbfounded by what had just occurred, knew when to submit. After taking deep breaths, she gave a deep curtsey and lowered her head, brows furrowed, "Of course, Miss Lockhart. This will never happen again. I... I apologise sincerely for my impudence..."

Arms crossed, Arabella watched as the girl robotically left the room and shut the door behind her.

Moving back to her desk, she picked up her journal and placed it back where it belonged, making sure to leave the small slip of paper on the cover as she had before, just in case. Her sharp blue eyes then flitted to her jewellery drawer and opened it to find an old emerald brooch. Arbella moved to her bed, crouching to place the brooch underneath, far enough to appear forgotten, not so far as to miss the glimmer of light reflecting off of it. She would see how long it would take for the brooch to disappear, or if it did at all. With that, Arabella slipped beneath the covers.

Soon she would know whether Carol had truly learned her lesson.