Blood on the floor… again

Everyone is still sitting at the dinner table, the plates are served one after another, with a fine speed and smoothness, which made Eleanor's guests forget what happened moments ago.

Eleanor uses this moment of peace, where everyone is busy having some small talks, make a strange suggestion.

"Oh dear! Oliver just informed me that it's raining outside, and it's already late, i can't allow myself to let you all out in this terrible weather... Why wouldn't you stay here tonight and leave in the morning when the weather is clearer?"

The guests troubled in a mixture of doubt, worry, anger, and some unexpressed feelings, Sir Fairchild, being clearly at this point, the most clever sharp-eyed one amongst the attendees, takes a quick look at the windows, "it's worse than i though" says Edmund Fairchild hearing and seeing through the wet blurry window, a lightning rod.

Lady Rosalind Worthington, who seemed a little nauseous, excuses to use the water closet, she refuses all the servants' offers to help or show her the way, at the same time, Lady Arabella Pembroke angrily insists that she will leave, Eleanor tried convincing her to stay, but she didn't seem to respond to Eleanor's suggestion.

"Sorry company, a lady has some special 'needs' I just can't go to sleep before doing some certain work, 'noble' things you know" excused Lady Pembroke before giving a sign to her companion-a butler, apparently-that they're leaving.

Eleanor has no choice but to "helplessly" let her leave.

Besides that, all the guests hardly accepted staying for this night, the Baron Stirling was still drugged, perhaps because of the previous incident or the strong wine, however sleeping with this man under the same roof was somewhat dangerous and worrying.

"There are plenty of rooms, the servants will be under your command" Eleanor says before calling "Oliver, can you please get each of our guests a room of the best in the house"

"Yes, m'lady" Oliver's rarely heard voice finally spoke, his voice was cracking, old, but with a deep comforting charm, with a tone slightly higher than the wind blowing against the summer's wheat, slightly lower than a bartender cleaning the bottles in an empty tavern, he was just another piece of art in Eleanor's mansion.

It's remarkable how the nobles have a similar before-bed ritual, yet you can notice a difference between each one of the group's actions.

The Worthington sisters chose to have two nearby rooms, as their request to have one larger room was declined.

Archibald didn't complain about the room that was given to him, he accepted with a smirk on his face and murmured, "not that I'll stay in it anyway"

Reginald Ashcroft didn't seem to react to almost any of the recent incidents, he just seemed a little worried about the Baron Stirling, more or less, some friendly support, who knows, however he asked to keep his room close the Baron's in case he has any signs of a hangover.

The Baron Stirling started to get some of his conscience back, he walked into the room suggested by the servants, and before closing the door, he looked at his friend Lord Ashcroft with a frightened look, as if he's seen death itself. He entered the room with a half-full bottle of wine and closed the door.

Finally Sir Edmund Fairchild examined carefully the whole mansion, picking which room he wanted to sleep in, as if he was picking a fortress to defend himself from an expected attack.

The actions and the eyes were not around him lately, which irritated Theodore, he was still sitting on the same seat since dinner, he silently walked in the mansion's halls, amusing himself with a little game "can I guess where everyone is sleeping"

"The closest room the the front door, with the largest number of windows, must be what Fairchild chose... The scent of strong parfumerie, Penelope is so boyish for this" he stopped "Rosalind, then the room next to it belongs to the protective older sister" he walks for a while then stops "the strong smell of wine, that pig must be here" looks at the adjacent room "then his shadow is here, which leaves..." Theodore notices some wet footprints coming out of another room, "that spoiled playboy is walking around" a small spark of jealousy suddenly incinerates inside Theodore, thinking that he didn't meet Archibald in his way, the only room that remains on the other side is Eleanor's room.

Without a touch of pride, Theodore wanted to go find him, and make whatever reckless things he imagined himself making out of Archibald, but he was interrupted by a shy, seductive voice, he turns behind to see no one but Rosalind Worthington.

"I heard a sound coming from the hall... was it you?"

"No she didn't" Theodore thought "i made a sound as loud as a spider on its web"

The idea that she was looking at the hall for all that time waiting for what may or may not come couldn't leave Theodore's head as he said to her, "yes Lady, i hope i didn't wake you up"

"No no, i couldn't catch sleep, i think a little talking might be helpful" she says as she takes a step back opening the door of her room, as anyone might have imagined, Rosalind-being a noble family's second daughter, having the strongest protective older sister, and perhaps a whole castle to take care of her-was beautiful, her golden long hair and her eyes like Emeralds, in the middle of that face, only matched in stories and fairytales.

If a man were to be invited to her room the way she did to Theodore, they would probably tell stories about it for the rest of their lives, their bloodline would celebrate that day of the year.

However, Theodore's case is different, it's not that he's a man with no taste, or a blind man, he simply has a greater goals, objectively, there is no way you can put this mermaid in the same level as Eleanor.

If Rosalind had an unnaturally golden hair and a breathtaking emerald eyes, Eleanor has a hair darker than coal, well placed small ears, eyes made out of gems, diamonds, pieces of the moon, the moon itself, you'd swear they glow in the dark.

You can feel the attraction of Rosalind's look like a strong rope on your neck, but once you take a look at Eleanor, you're already hers.

Theodore followed Rosalind into her room, keeping his same darkened look, but notices that he's forgetting to compliment her parfume, something that can kill all his chances of getting along with her.

"What can I say! You have a sophisticated taste in parfumerie"

"It doesn't deserve mentioning" she answers, clearly flattered. Then, she sets on the bed and stares and Theodore.

"The bloodline of the Worthington family is a long proud one" he says looking at her ring with the family's sign on it, "to think that not only their swords were beautiful, but they hid a greater beauty."

"My family doesn't hide me, sir—"

"Call me Theodore"

"Theodore, i can choose to give myself to whoever i want whenever i want to"

He gives her the usual smile, "sure, i didn't mean to say they hide you, I'm just thinking..." he almost lost track of what he was saying then said, "don't you think giving away yourself that easily will hurt your sister"

"I'm sure she will understand"

After a long conversation with Rosalind, Theodore left her room, with the usual indifferent look on his face, heading to Eleanor's room.

As he got closer, he heard her voice talking to Archibald Channing as he'd expected, Theodore then watched quietly from the corner as Eleanor and Archibald stood together in front of the door of her room.

"I guess we had enough for today Sir Archibald, we can follow what we started tomorrow"

He takes her hand and kisses her then walks away with a grin on his face, he's excused for that, that's how Theodore's face should have been moments ago.

"You know you can't hide from me, not with that fire coming out of your eyes, Theo"

"What were you doing with that worm?

She makes a playful smile "could you guess?"

"If i hadn't known where he will be by the end of this night, i would take him there myself"

"And where is that?"

"Hel—" interrupted by a scream.

"It's the sound of Stirling!" Theodore says and runs towards the Baron's room, Edmund Fairchild was there giving a disgusted look and covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.

This is the second time the room where the Baron was is covered with blood. That night, before anyone could sleep, the Baron was murdered.