The Horrid Secrets of the Ambrillia’s Mansion

Cautiously, I close the door behind me. Glancing left and right, I make sure that Ambrillia didn’t change her mind on a whim. Long orange carpets with fine embroidery, vases of flowers placed on either side on top of pillars and, more importantly, nobody in sight.

    The corridors seem safe enough…

    I sigh.

    With her departure, I’m left alone in this den of goodness. As much as I’m concerned by the nasty influence this place may have on me, I can’t exactly deflect saluting the nobles hosting me against my will and, possibly, against theirs as well. For, upon witnessing Ambrillia’s reaction, I doubt that she ever cared to obtain their approval.

    Are they as evilly good as their daughter?

    They’re most probably ruminating on her decision, or are they too fearful of having the evil Duke within their walls to consider it?

“This might be a perfect opportunity to replenish my evilness. For, if even my beloved Ambrillia values this side of me, it would be a shame to let a lack of practice tarnish the reputation of the most evil noble in the whole kingdom of Emphrellaig.”

    Briefly, my mind drifts to the revolting rumours circulating in Oneixium. If the other villains don’t doubt me any more, I received a concerning report from Keillweist. He informed me that a bunch of commoners are organising secret meetings to praise my… k*ndness… and relationship with the Marquessa Ambrillia.

    I repress a shiver at the thought, chasing it away.

“Terrible mistake of hers to allow me to greet her parents in her absence. I’m going to get them on my bad side.”

    With a smirk, I proceed to sully the mansion with my presence, crossing its corridors. It doesn’t take me long after going downstairs to notice a maid with a silver tray. The poor thing can’t help but jolt at my approach, barely achieving to keep intact the teapot dangerously swaying on her tray. A natural reaction to my grim aura.

    I chuckle.

“You. You’re bringing that to your masters, I guess. Inform them that I’m coming to greet them.”

    As she nods and flees in the opposite direction, I pause briefly. Like a predator offering some respite to its prey, only for the pleasure of extending the chase.

    Only after a while do I follow her trail with a steady pace.

    Without much surprise, I catch sight of the maid’s figure standing near a low table where she placed her masters’ cups, now pouring down a steaming cinnamon-coloured liquid.

“Well, well, we finally have the occasion to get introduced.” I utter, rounding the low table to face the figures sitting in the opposite chairs. “Marquis, Marquessa Ambrillia.”

    Both raise their heads to me. While the marquis has short hair the colour of his daughter’s and a well-cut moustache, the marquessa has mid-long blond locks.

    Both have the same peaceful expressions. The kind of peaceful ones one should only have after having consumed litres of calming tea.

“Duke Luphor.” The marquis replies. “Please, have a sit. Nuhuhh.”

    A bit unsettled, I decide after a brief while to comply.

“Reina, serve the duke a cup of tea.”

    As the maid complies, I feel grateful for her presence. Her slightly shaking hands reveal that she might be the only sensed person in this mansion.

“We’re glad to meet you.” The Marquis Ambrillia resumes. “Our dear Armi told us you’ve been wounded. Are you feeling better?”

“Ohh, I’m perfectly fine.” I reply, taking hold of the steaming cup. “I can’t say that much for you, I fear.”

    My words seemingly not ringing a bell in their minds, I feel the necessity to elaborate.

“Learning that your dear daughter fell for the evil Duke everyone fears in the whole kingdom must have been hard to admit. She even entangled you in her shenanigans, bringing to your mansion the evil heir of the Luphor family.”

“Nuhuhh.”

“Nuhuhh.”

    They both chuckle.

    Did they drug themselves in a hope to forget the crime they’re committing by allowing a villain to stay in their estate?

“Armillia always had a strong and independent will.” The Marquessa Ambrillia utters as I give up on common sense to sip tea. “At only a few years old, she always managed to escape the maids’ monitoring. She could make them run for hours.”

“Do you remember that time she almost entered the forest?” The marquis chimes in.

“Didn’t it happen a couple of times? She also hid in the garden.”

“She did.”

“Nuhuhh.”
“Nuhuhh.”

“Near the forest, filled with monsters?” I mutter with a deadpan expression. “How old…”

“About four years.” The marquessa answers with her peaceful expression.

“…”

    Crack.

    The porcelain handle holds back the urge to shatter in my grasp.

“With Blathnat’s protection, nothing ever happened to her.” The marquis adds.

    Was this woman always gifted with the intent to indulge in her whims without caring for people’s sanity? Are her parents the result of years of torture by the frail hands of this terrifying creature in angel’s disguise?

    Now I can’t help but imagine her tiny self, adventuring wherever her unsafe thoughts guided her…

    I don’t need more reasons to fall for her.

“That’s nice to see that Armillia found herself such a handsome fiancé.” Ambrillia’s mother notes.

    To my grand surprise, I am not the most affected by these words as the marquis’s peaceful expression shatters, replaced by one of great concern.

“Handsome?..” He turns teary, wobbly eyes at his spouse, who simply ignores him. “You find him handsome…”

༻❦︎༺

    Wandering through the vast mansion, I decide to explore this place for a bit before I return to my assigned room. Yearning to lose myself in threat letters writing, I resist the urge to take advantage of Ambrillia’s absence to escape Ambrosia.

    Beyond the windows, a huge garden stretches into colourful alleys, numerous enough to shape a flowery maze.

“There must be so many varieties down there. Maybe Ambrillia and I will have the occasion to stroll through this place.” I pause near the window. “She’ll tell me more about the flowers she likes, and I’d collect a few to dry.”

    The unevil thought gives me a shiver.

    A heavy sigh. Not mine.

“Will you cease with the lovey-dovey thoughts?”

    At the sudden voice, I turn to Blathnat, standing a few steps away.

“I- I wasn’t…” I avert my gaze.

“Lies.” The banshee counters. “Look, I never asked for it. But because of my great-great-granddaughter, I became able to spot cheesy thoughts at once.”

    A pause.

“Ambrillia is your-”

“Obviously. She did tell you that she has banshee blood, didn’t she? Why else would I indulge her whims? I even had to accept her fatuous request of bringing her to that evil social event of yours. Despite the rules of my kind not to leave our territory.” She sighs. “You can thank her. Without my intervention, that roaming banshee would have gotten you.”

    As I process the meaning of her words, I can’t help but widen my eyes.

“Do you mean that you were both present during the Night of the Evil Moon?”

    I find it useless to question her regarding the way they intruded into Seighphragh’s place. I guess she simply used her magic to conceal her presence.

“She harassed me to.” Blathnat rolls her eyes with utter annoyance. “Wanting to drink in the sight of her evil Duke at his most evil hours or some nonsense.”

    My braincells are blown by a sudden explosion only hinted at by my reddening ears.

“Is this a nightmare I’m going to awake from? Is this divine punishment? Even without her being here…”

    This is so embarrassing.

    Holding onto the remnants of my sanity, I take the wisest choice I can and hurry to leave Blathnat’s side, regaining the reassuring maze of corridors.

    Only after roaming for a while, calming the beats of my racing heart, do I realise that I don’t recognise any more the way leading to the room I was assigned to.

    Come to think of it, the doors are pretty similar to one another.

“Was it this one?” I glance to one side. “This one?” I glance to the other.

    Futile. I won’t be able to guess without trying.

“I’m not lost, I’m simply exploring.”

    Resigning to my fate, I grab the handle of the closest door, entering the room.

    Inside simple decorations, elegant furnitures, but mostly and before anything else… Heaps of books and parchments. Messily clustered into the most unlikely parts of the room, I’m so deranged by that chaotic disorder that I can’t bring myself to simply leave this room. I can’t simply unsee this.

    And, guided by a morbid curiosity, I step further into this room, more akin to a witch’s den than to a simple bedroom.

“Who’s bedroom would it be, anyway?”

    Approaching one of the heaps of paper, I reach out to grab a book. Half-expecting it to be some research documents about flowers, I open the book.

“It’s handwritten. These curves… It looks like Ambrillia’s handwriting.” I ponder, remembering the invitation card brought by Blathnat.

    Skimming through it for a while, that’s when I understand. Paling.

    After blindfolding him, I brought a strawberry to his lips, running it against them.

“Did you guess what this is?” I asked.

“No… Let me taste it and I’ll tell you.” The Duke Luphor replied.

    Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t in my plans. Instead of complying, I pulled back the juicy fruit.

“You know what happens when you don’t guess it correctly, though…” I purred, leaning in.

    I wasn’t ready for what lay behind that treacherous door.

    With a thud, I slam the book closed.

    It is but a weird tale recounting a romance which never happened between Ambrillia and I. The events were different, the tone horridly dripping with passion.

    And it isn’t just this one book. Horrified, I glance into the books one after the other. They are filled with alternative romances. And these aren’t just fantasist's romances between Ambrillia and me…

    That’s when I understood. The rapid beats of my heart, the reason I had been yearning for his touch. It went beyond mere need. It couldn’t be filled only by the nights shared together. More than my flesh, it was my soul begging for him to be close. It was… love!

    Horrified, I slam the book closed, the noise echoing through the whole room.

“Ohh-Ohh… You weren’t supposed to see this. Not my dark past…”

    With a pale expression, I turn in the direction of the figure which appeared on the threshold. Ambrillia. Bashful.

“How much did you see?”

    I recoil.

   When Blathnat, when the children at the orphanage mentioned the stories Ambrillia read to them, this wasn’t what I expected.

    Not only are these stories she wrote herself, but this goes far beyond innocent romances written by a woman yearning for love.

“W-why did you even write a romance about me and my butler…”

    A thought crosses then my mind… Are these instruments of torture she prepared in case I rejected her? Is it all part of her plan??

“B-But,” Ambrillia averts her gaze, her bent index finger pressed to her lips, “in this fiction he got rejuvenated, so it’s okay…. Maybe.” She trails off in a whisper.

    Unable to repress it any longer, fingers pressed against my head, I succumb to the weight of the psychological attack.

    Letting out a piercing scream.

    Letting it echo through the whole mansion.