77: One week's time

One week's time

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—

Upon noticing King Maxwell standing in the corridor, watching her, Anastasia quickly offered him a bow without raising her head. Though she didn't look up at him, she could feel his gaze on her, and soon his shoes clicked against the floor as he walked in the direction where she stood. 

"Raise your head. What are you doing here?" King Maxwell demanded of her, while Anastasia's mind raced. 

When Anastasia raised her head to meet the king's eyes briefly before she lowered it again, she felt his intense stare on her. It wasn't the first time his gaze had fallen upon her, as it had happened in the past, but that was when he was only a prince. 

Anastasia raised her hand towards the window and acted as if she was closing it. 

On the other hand, King Maxwell didn't pay attention to her action, as he realised that her eyes were not green, nor was her skin pale like Marianne's. But at the same time, there was something uncanny about this woman's resemblance to his deceased concubine. He questioned her, 

"Did you see someone passing by here?" 

Anastasia's eyebrows furrowed before she shook her head in response. 

King Maxwell's annoyance grew as the maid remained silent, prompting him to demand, "Speak up using your voice." 

"Your Highness!" It was Mr. Gilbert, who had come to assist him after hearing that the king had summoned him. Noticing the mute maid standing before the king, he asked, "Did she do something to offend you, My King?"

"The servant seems to think it is beneath her to speak," King Maxwell remarked, and he opened his mouth, ready to punish her by having her sent to the dungeon, when Mr. Gilbert quickly informed him, 

"She cannot speak. She's a mute." 

King Maxwell stared intently at the mute maid, whose eyes remained cast down, and he noticed her long lashes grazing her upper cheeks as she briefly closed her eyes. His eyes then shifted to look at her lips, tracing a downward path. Before his gaze could venture further below, his blue eyes caught sight of the bruise on her neck. 

"If you have finished your work here, go continue with the other errands, Anna," Mr. Gilbert said, dismissing Anastasia from there to avoid her presence disturbing the king. 

Anastasia was more than happy to oblige, and she quickly offered her bows before walking away from them.

"Is she one of the new additions from Dunkirk's mansion?" King Maxwell asked, looking at Anastasia's back as he realised she was the person he had mistaken for Marianne last night. 

"No, Your Highness," Mr. Gilbert bowed as he answered. "Anna is Princess Emily's maid and has been for quite some time now. She's been here in the palace for years."

Maxwell wondered why he hadn't noticed the maid before. The maid was attractive, and despite their dissimilar appearance, except for their similar hair, he couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity as if he had seen Marianne once again.

From what he knew, Marianne had been brought to the palace alone, as she loved him enough to reveal the truth of her past. However, little did Maxwell know that Marianne's love for Anastasia was greater than her love for him when it came to protecting her younger sister from the palace's intrigues and danger.

He then turned back to look at the empty corridor, wondering if he had imagined things earlier. 

Anastasia's footsteps were quicker than when she had entered these corridors in hopes of seeing her sister. Instead of going to her room, she headed to Princess Emily's quarters, where the princess was taking her afternoon nap. She took a seat on the ground before attempting to drift off to sleep.

After a few minutes, she began to nod off, struggling to keep her head upright when she felt something touch her, startling her awake, and saw Princess Emily sitting in front of her, holding a blanket. 

"Pardon me, I thought you might be cold and thought you could use a blanket," Princess Emily apologised. "Go back to sleep." 

"That's okay," Anastasia responded, straightening her body that had slid against the wall. 

"The couch is much more comfortable than the ground, Anna. You don't have to worry about someone coming in once you lock the door," Princess Emily assured her, leaving the blanket next to Anastasia and walking towards one of the room's windows. 

"I worry Princess Niyasa will find me sitting on the couch and turn my life into hell," Anastasia nervously smiled at the thought of it. She said, "Even whispering outside the palace is a bad idea, with the way the Prince of the Storm Kingdom heard me speak."

Princess Emily nodded understandingly. As the princess, the consequences she would bear would be considerably less severe compared to her maid if the royal family found out she wasn't mute. She said, 

"It's because he has very good ears and eyes. Raylen, I mean. But that is understandable considering how he is the Prince of the Storm Kingdom." 

"Meaning?" Anastasia curiously asked her. 

"While the Blackthorns belong to one of the three powerful demons who have ascended to the realm of the living world, the Storm family belongs to the lineage of another demon, much like the Stalan family," Princess Emily explained to Anastasia, and the maid's mouth fell open at this information. The princess then leaned her back against the windowsill and continued, "This is why a truce was established between the three families, as each of the heirs sought to claim dominion over the other kingdoms. Of course, it would be wrong of me to take sides because each kingdom has had its own fair share of bloodshed and death throughout their histories."

Anastasia had never paid much attention to the political conflicts of the kingdoms; after all, her focus and goal had been very clear.

"But you are right. It is better for you not to speak outside, and I will do the talking from now on," Princess Emily smiled, not wanting to lose her maid. "How about you teach me to sketch?" 

Anastasia nodded, responding with a smile, "Let me go and get the parchments and the charcoal." 

Princess Emily pushed herself up from her position against the windowsill, saying, "You don't have to settle for parchments when there are canvas boards available in the art room. Come," and they stepped out of the room. 

Upon entering the art room, Anastasia noticed a number of boards resting against the walls or supported by wooden stands. They closed the door before walking around to look for and gather up blank panels they could use. 

Anastasia stood in front of one of the sketches, staring at it with her feet frozen. The drawing depicted Marianne, and she looked down at the name to confirm it. 

"This is a lovely one, isn't it?" Princess Emily remarked as she came to stand next to Anastasia to see what she was looking at. "Most of the art here was made by Maxwell and Aiden. This one was drawn by Maxwell a long time ago. Of course, that was before he was betrothed to Lady Evin."

It wasn't just that it was a drawing of Marianne but also the place where it was drawn that caught her attention. It resembled the corridor that she had run to earlier, and in the sketch, her sister stood in front of the window, looking outside. 

"He's very good at it. There are other drawings that he sketched that you will find here. Let me see," Princess Emily murmured before turning around when her shoe hit one of the boards lying on the ground. 

Anastasia quickly bent down and lifted the canvas board to find another woman drawn on it. The image depicted a woman with flowing, wavy hair that framed her face as if she were lying down, while her hands were raised and positioned near the sides of her head. Underneath the portrait, the name "Stella" was inscribed.' 

"Stella?" Anastasia whispered with a frown. 

Princess Emily asked her, "Did you know her?" 

Anastasia quickly shook her head and asked, "Who was she?" 

"A former concubine, who is now dead," Princess Emily said, her lips setting into a thin line as if deep in thought. She awkwardly added, "Now that I think about it, there are a lot of dead people in here… I mean, within the art."

So the man wasn't lying, Anastasia thought to herself. But was it the same person? She heard Princess Emily say, "She was a pretty woman. I can still recall it vividly because of how suddenly things turned bad, and no one dared ever to repeat such an action again."

Curious, Anastasia asked her, "What happened?" 

"Stella was going to become my father's exclusive concubine, the fifth woman in King William's court," Princess Emily said with a serious expression, "But Maxwell developed a fondness for her, and they engaged in an intimate relationship. When the truth came to light, my father was furious that the woman betrayed him by sleeping with his son, and she was hanged to death for her transgression. No one is allowed to touch what the King has chosen for himself."

It looked like any woman who fell for King Maxwell always died, Anastasia thought. She asked, 

"But it wasn't her fault, was it?" 

"It was both of their faults," Princess Emily stated before continuing, "Brother Maxwell and Stella were aware of Father's intentions. They also knew the potential consequences that could arise due to their actions. But then, it is also my father's fault. When you are the king, your word is absolute, and no one else's matters."

Though Princess Emily didn't speak further on the subject, Anastasia could tell these customs didn't sit well with the princess, but she had to follow them as it was how Versailles had functioned for centuries. 

"I am sorry, Princess Emily," Anastasia apologised with a bow. 

"Don't be. You didn't do anything," Princess Emily sighed, her gaze returning to the depictions of the deceased concubines on the canvas boards. She said, "I wish to be angry about these actions, but then I realise that without these events unfolding the way they did, I wouldn't have the family I have now. I would have missed out on the presence of my siblings," she smiled at the end. "Let us look for a blank canvas."

Anastasia nodded in agreement and turned back to look at her sister's sketch, which looked serene. As they continued looking around, she came across some sketches portraying men and women drawn naked, prompting her to quickly place them face down before moving to the next piece. 

Contemplating how to broach the subject and confirm whether the deceased woman was indeed Gabriel's sister, Anastasia finally stumbled upon a blank canvas. As she picked up some finely-chiselled charcoal, she asked, 

"Princess, if I may speak," Anastasia began, gaining Princess Emily's attention, "I noticed that Lady Sophia is the only one with lighter hair, and all the rest of the women here have dark hair…" Even though it was a question, she left it open-ended. 

"Hm, I never took a note of it, but yes, you are right," Princess Emily nodded, and as they walked out of the room, Anastasia carried the canvas in her arms while keeping her lips sealed. The princess said, "Now that I think about it, I believe she hailed from somewhere on your side of the country. Hawkshead, was it?" 

Anastasia almost lost her grip on the canvas before she adjusted her hold carefully. Princess Emily asked her, "Is it heavy?" To this, she shook her head. 

Once her time with the princess came to an end, as evening approached, Anastasia searched for Gabriel within the palace. She looked for him in the servants' quarters and the back of the kitchen, then ventured to the stables, as well as the garden. 

Stepping back inside the palace, Anastasia met Theresa, and she asked, 'Do you know where Gabriel is?'0

"Who is Gabriel?" Theresa questioned her back. 

'The new man who was brought in from Lord Dunkirk's mansion. Brown hair, grey eyes,' Anastasia moved her hands in haste. 

"Oh, he must be fixing the window. At least, that is what I heard Mr. Gilbert order him to do earlier. Anna? Where are you taking me?" Theresa asked, startled when Anastasia pulled her by her hand. 

"Take me to where he is. I need to ask you to ask him something," Anastasia whispered hurriedly to the older woman as they walked. 

When they finally reached the room where Gabriel was striking a nail with a hammer, Anastasia signed to Theresa, 'Ask him where he is from.'

Theresa nodded, and she cleared her throat, "Gabriel?" 

"Yes?" The young man turned to look at Theresa, and his eyes then fell on Anastasia, who stood behind the older woman. 

Theresa asked, "Are you from Hawkshead?" 

The question took Gabriel aback, and he frowned with a guarded expression, "Yes, why do you ask?" 

Anastasia let out the breath she had been holding, feeling a mild wave of happiness form in her mind. He was from Hawkshead, from the same village as she was! When Theresa turned to look at her with surprise, Anastasia moved her hands once again, 

'Ask him if he knows my family.'

Theresa turned back to look at Gabriel and asked, "Do you know the Flores family?" 

"Hugh and Margaret Flores?" Gabriel asked. As if in realisation, his eyes fell back on the maid who stared at him before he said, "You are one of their daughters." 

Anastasia couldn't believe that someone apart from her in this palace was from Hawkshead. She was left speechless, hope glimmering in front of her. 

Theresa, looking equally taken aback by this information, seeking confirmation, asked the man, "Where is Hawkshead located?" 

"Drumfell," Anastasia and Gabriel said at the same time. 

This time, it was Gabriel's turn to feel astonished, and he said, "You can speak… you aren't a mute?" It was because she hadn't said one word— not even last night. 

"I am not," Anastasia replied while staring at him. 

Theresa looked at the two of them staring at each other, and she said, "I will go outside to stand guard so you both can talk," she stepped outside, leaving Anastasia and Gabriel alone. She addressed Gabriel, asking him, 

"How are my parents? Are they okay?" 

It took Gabriel a moment to shake off the feeling as if he had seen a ghost, and he nodded, 

"Mr. and Mrs. Flores are alive and well, but they miss their daughters. Which one are you?"

"I am their youngest child—"

"Anastasia," Gabriel remembered the name Prince Dante had called her this morning. "Actually, you are no longer the youngest anymore. When I departed, you had a brother of about this height," he indicated with his hand. "Must be around eight in age."

A younger brother, Anastasia smiled at the thought. But her smile fell when Gabriel asked her, "Where is your sister? I remember her, with green eyes, I think." 

Anastasia shook her head and said, "She's no more."

"My condolences," Gabriel murmured. 

Uncertain about the right moment to deliver the news, she said, "Mine too…" For a moment, the man stared at her in question before his face hardened, as if understanding what she said. 

"You found out about her. You know…" Gabriel stated, and Anastasia nodded in silence. He looked defeated, sinking down onto his heels and covering his face with his hands as he tried to gather his emotions. "Damn those fucking royals!" He cursed under his breath, "They fucking killed her! Stole her from us! They steal and use people, doing whatever they want, before throwing them away!" 

Anastasia could relate to Gabriel's pain and emotions that were running through him now because it was something she also carried within herself. After a couple of minutes, the man stood up, the rims of his eyes red. He whispered, 

"I thought when I would find her, the biggest concern would be worrying about how to safely bring her out of the kingdom, persuading her if she were to refuse… I hoped," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who killed her?" 

"King William… but he's dead. I am sorry. I didn't mean to deliver you bad news," Anastasia responded, a sense of sorrow welling up inside her. 

Gabriel was at a loss for words because even if he wanted to take revenge on the person who killed his sister, the person had already been murdered. He sighed heavily and said, "It looks like I have nothing more to do here and can now return to my family."

"To Hawkshead?" Anastasia asked him, and he responded with a nod. 

"I will think about how to break the news to my parents without shattering their hearts," Gabriel uttered, grieving for his dead sister. He said, "I should pack my things and prepare to leave." 

"Tonight?" Anastasia asked, blinking at him as she tried to wrap her mind around his words.

"Yes, there's no point in me staying here, is there?" Gabriel asked, and then noticed the expression on the woman's face. "What?" 

"Take me with you, please!" Anastasia desperately expressed her need to return to her family. "I want to reunite with my parents too, and my brother. I have been wanting to leave for a very long time." 

Gabriel said, "Okay. Then it would be wise for you to pack whatever you need to leave for—" 

"But not tonight," Anastasia interrupted him, which made him frown. She explained to him, "My sister… She was murdered, and I have been waiting for the murderer to be exposed. I need to know…" her voice trailed. 

"You do understand that the probability of anyone being exposed isn't high? What if a year passes and the murderer remains undiscovered?" Gabriel questioned her, trying to make her understand she would only be wasting her time waiting for something that may never happen, and he didn't want to spend any more time in this palace. 

"I know…" Anastasia whispered, her gaze cast to the ground, and she said, "But if I don't wait for a little longer, I will always carry the feeling that I didn't love her enough and let her go too easily. So please, just a few days." 

Even though days had passed since King William's death, there was no news or sign of the murderer. Anastasia, who now worked in the innermost part of the palace, couldn't help but notice the number of guards had increased, especially around King Maxwell's chambers, as a precautionary measure. 

Anastasia knew that finding the murderer was becoming increasingly challenging with every passing day, but she wanted justice for her sister. She loved her sister enough not to give up on her even after her death. Maybe that is why her sister's ghost was lurking in the shadowy corridors of the palace, as it wasn't at peace, she thought. 

Gabriel gave it some thought before responding, "Okay. I will give you a week, Anastasia. After that, I will depart, and you can decide whether to accompany me or remain here." 

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