Chương 17: XVII. Elias Hawthorne

"This is the guest bedroom, though you are not expected to stay the night unless you wish it, Lady Hart," Ophelia said. Her white hair fell like waterfalls behind her, reaching to her waist. Her jewelry was gold and rubies, and the necklace around her neck shone with the same odd light. But otherwise, she was dressed like Jasmine, though I suspect her frock was made of silk. It shined and had a ruby trim, and the white apron she wore was blemishless. She wore a poke instead of a mobcap, and…

the other maids seemed scared of her? Also, she was Lady Hawthorne, but I don't actually know if noblemen employ their wives to be their head of staff? I don't think I'd hate it, as long as I got to decide what everyone else had to do.

"Lady La Croix – one of the serving-staff will be around with the parfait you had requested. Would you care for any refreshments yourself, Lady Hart?"

"Are you his wife?" I said.

"I didn't know [Vampires] got married." Ophelia's face remained static, and her golden eyes never stopped staring at me. Madeleine was only beginning to cover her face, when Ophelia spoke out.

"Mother has been dead for a long time, Lady Hart. And, before you ask, I am not his biological daughter either. Well, I am now, but not –""Oh, you just share his blood," I finished for her. This was basic Mortian Culture from Albion Bell's Codex of the Deceiver's Elite. Madeleine broke out into laughter, shaking her head. Ophelia stopped mid sentence, and smiled at me. Her eyes didn't blink nor waver. I closed my mouth, and then she continued.

"That would be correct, Lady Hart. I do understand you are fairly new to high society, but it is considered a faux pas to interrupt someone. Now, would you have any other questions, or would you prefer light refreshments before dinner?"

"So wait, if you are his daughter, why are you working as a [Maid]? And why does your necklace look different from your other jewelry?" Madeleine continued to snicker. Ophelia, for her part, didn't change her expression. It was a slight smile, unblinking eyes, and words as soon as I had closed my mouth.

"I am a [Seneschal] Lady Hart," Ophelia said.

"Not a [Maid]. When I am to supercede my father, I will need to manage more than some simple house staff. And the necklace is just a tool for obedience." The necklace seemed to be made of silver, but that would have caused a divine reaction. Her skin was fine, if a bit incredibly pale. The necklace itself seemed like an emerald, and something swirled inside. It had a haunting symphony, one that was filled with Staccato notes made of icicles. They fell around it, like a frozen cage.

It was also very, very expensive-looking.

"He buys your love?" Ophelia snorted this time, and her impeccable face broke. Her eyebrow raised, and her eyes shimmered.

"Love? Our kind have both committed the Sin of the Sky and the Sin of the Traveler. Emotions matter little to domination and control." I tilted my head.

"I'm not talking about Patricide or Filicide, I'm asking about your necklace."

"It's a [Binding Collar], Lady Hart." I leaned into the collar. The Symphony was faint. Ophelia was lithe, but she had some visible muscle. More than me, but I admit that wasn't a hard bar. But that thing looked frail.

"Why don't you break it?" She reached up and touched her neck. A green spark flew from silver and singed her skin. It immediately regenerated, which was curious on its own.

"How?" I glanced at Madeleine, but she was peering at me, laughter stopped. BINDING COLLAR (COMMON) [ILLEGAL] A collar bound with a soul. These devices are common among [Slavers], [Night-Things], and [Indebted Labourers]. Many nations have banned these devices on fundamental grounds, though it may still be used on [NPCs] and [Monsters]. Vendor Price: 100 Gold Pieces [VITAE ANALYSIS] • Soul Type: [Commoner] • Defile Chance: 100% The enchantment felt weak, and it actually was weak..

She must have had a reason to leave it on. So I shrugged, and leaned back.

"I don't want anything."

"Most excellent, Lady Hart. I'll come fetch the pair of you for dinner." Just as she exited, another maid popped by to hand Madeleine her parfait. She dug her spoon into the mixture and twirled it.

"Demoiselle, needless to say, don't just mutter the first thing that comes to your head to Master Elias, will you?"

"I won't, but–" The bedroom was grand, the bed actually had a mattress with curtains! They even had a dresser with mirrors, but I had no interest in staring at reflections.

"... Why are we even here?"

"Did you not read the letter, chérie?" I pulled it out of my inventory, and it was still unopened. She snatched it out of my hands, and then sighed.

"They had expressed interest in meeting you after they were sold the [Uncommon] crops. You did not respond to the letter, and the RSVP was for tonight, so Maman responded for you. You were interested in starting a [Cult], non? Also, why do you not read your letters?!"

"Amaril's sake, Maddy, you and Addy both," I said, and collapsed onto the mattress.

"Don't like 'em. And why are we meeting them?"

"To meet your customers. [Mortals] don't buy [Blood Crops], chérie." I nodded, but closed my eyes. It didn't even take a couple of winks before there was a knock on the door, and Lady Hawthorne brought us to the dining hall. Their stained glass chandelier swayed to some phantom wind, red candleflame burning on floating wicks. The glass was red too, which bathed Elias's dining room in this constant, bloody shade.

I could likely grab one if I just stood on the table, but I knew the basics of fine dining not to do that. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. The rectangular table was big enough to seat six people, not including the head and foot. A candelabra held thankfully normal candles, bathing the porcelain in warm orange. Two [Musicians] played the violin, and the loud plunks of the harpsichord added to their somber tones.

Ophelia said I could sit anywhere I liked, save for the head or foot – though I already knew that. I approached the center of the left side, so Madeleine stood opposite me. Her fingers held onto the chair and tapped over the wood. Behind her, the serving staff waited in the gloom. I could recognize some of the faces against the wall, I think in passing. Others seemed incredibly new, though, admittedly, I never met everyone in Old Oakheart, and New Oakheart was much bigger. Jasmine wasn't present.

Oddly though, Ophelia was. I glanced to the foot of the table, and a plate was set out. Though, a wine cup was placed upside down on the plate, and lined with salt. The door opened to steam. A tall man with golden eyes stepped into the room. He wore a puffy dress shirt with a cravat, his broad chest popped out and leading. His dress-coat hung over his shoulders like a cape, which he undid fully and placed at the back of his chair.

"Please, ladies first." I scraped the chair against the floor and it barely moved an inch. The wood was heavy, but outside of the large squeaking, I was successful. I sat down, but Maddy didn't follow. She instead turned to Lord Hawthorne and curtsied, sliding the chair out gently and then waiting for the noble to do the same. Right, there was protocol. There was a plate in front of me, a bowl, and a place underneath the bowl.

Then there was a smaller plate to the top right, three different sized spoons, two knives – one flat and the other sharp – and two forks. They were all made of porcelain, and arranged in some order I could not intuit.

"So, Lady Hart, how do you like Hawthorne Manor?" Lord Elias said. He reached over to his side and picked up one of the two wine glasses. The glass chute was more umbrella-like and curved in on itself, compared to the other one that was basically the same but just a bit wider and no inward curve. He raised it up, and one of the maids moved forward and filled his cup to the brim with red wine. I picked up the fork and spun it against my right hand. I picked up the same cup – I think – and raised it to the sky.

It too was filled, and before I could turn around, whoever served me had already gone.

"It's pretty big," I said. Elias smiled, and said nothing more. The wine was… red. That was the only part of it I could identify. It didn't smell like blood, but it also just smelled like wine. It had a strong scent of grapes, but there was a tart addition, like red currant. It tasted sweet, so maybe I was wrong about my assessment of wine. The alcohol mixed with the strong taste of grape to become this oddly savourly taste, and it was red currants – which gave it a subtle sweetness.

"Demoiselle, pace yourself," Madeleine said. I lowered the empty cup back on the table.

"You like, Lady Hart? It's [Mortian Grapes] mixed with [Red Currant], imported from the Old Country." Elias said, and beckoned with his other hand. Ophelia bowed her head and went to a side door, slipping behind it. Wheels began to spin, and I looked at the empty wine cup.

"It's really nice. I should grow [Grapes] some day."

"If you would like, I could acquire some [Mortian Grape Seeds] for you to grow," Lord Hawthorne said. That smile seemed like the ones all the guilds would make. Here's some [Corn] seeds, oh you probably want [Fertilizer] too. Soon enough, you end up farming to what they give you, rather than what you want to do. I shook my head.

"I'll buy it when I can afford it. Now, Madeleine says you're here to buy my crops?" Lord Elias chuckled, and turned to Madeleine.

"Lady La Croix, I had no idea that the [Farmer] you were talking about was just a [Farmer]. I thought you [Mortals] enjoyed being a Prefered Class." I shut my mouth and grit my teeth. Madeleine, however, choked on her wine, her fist smacking against her chest as she began to cough it out.

"Excusez-moi?! Surveille ton langage!"

"What?" Lord Hawthorne said.

"Oh, right, sorry. You've changed the term to what, [Adventurer] now? What are you calling the other ones these days, the Non-Pref-" The door swung open, thankfully interrupting the old prick. Carts were wheeled in, covered in trays. Near the center was Jasmine, and behind her, Mary. Jasmine caught my eyes but didn't smile. She kept her head low after that, and prevented Mary from looking up. The first tray had a roast pig. The entire pig; roasted, skin browned.

The trotters were chopped off for broth likely, or maybe just thrown away? It had an apple in its mouth, and the eyes were plucked off. That likely meant it was stuffed, and the offal ground into mince. The second was fruits and vegetables. The third was eggs and a gamebird, unlikely chicken – possibly quail? Jasmine's plate had custard and cream, and Mary's plate had… chocolate? The maids bowed and quickly left the room, and the servants began to cut. A slice of bread for that singular plate, and my soup bowl…

wait there was soup? They served Elias first of course, but then me and Madeleine. The skin had gravy and the vegetables had salt – Salt! On vegetables!

"I'm not primarily interested in the crops, Lady Hart," Lord Hawthorne said.

"I am interested in it, but are you able to create a [Blight]?"" You want What?" Madeleine dropped the knife onto the pork, and stared at Elias. Blight (Status Effect) An area blessed by the Dead Mother. It is said the [Undead] thrive on these lands, and a [Night-Thing] is empowered. I slipped the pork into my mouth and chewed. It was juicy and moist, and the glaze they had put it on seeped into the meat. Sadly, there wasn't any garlic. The soup was vegetable mixed with peppercorn, and that was hard to do wrong.

An actual [Cook] making it though… this was amazing. I only then realized they had finished talking, and I swallowed loudly.

"Nah. Why would I want to even do that?" Madeleine exhaled, but Elias crossed his arms.

"Nah as in, you are not able to create one, or you do not wish to create one?" I opened my mouth, but… The Symphony is a constant song that plays atop the world. It is the notes that create words which become real. Adrian's was a powerful burst of sunlight, but most others, Elias and Ophelia included, were simple elements that'd be no better than Nana's. Madeleine was stronger, and she wasn't even Symphonic. But the sounds of winter came from the Southern chair, and the upturned glass glimmered in tinges of red.

Us three were in the reflection, but on the side facing the empty chair was growing darkness. Her Symphony was the Winter; the cold, silent moment of the world frozen. The Winter shook her head, and both Madeleine and Elias followed my gaze. Frost formed against the rim, leading downwards into the salt. The Symphony was dead air, and the growing chill extinguished the red flames, leaving not but the candelabra. The orange circle flickered, illuminating Madeleine and Elias, but bending around me…

and the southern plate. The answer seemed clear, but… why was it clear?

"You were already denied this request once. You know no such accommodation will be created without Succession. Do not ask again till what was asked of you is completed." Madeleine pushed her chair away, and Elias dropped his fork. Ophelia's lips moved away from her guarded neutral into a wry smile.

"She speaks Cryptmouth?" Elias tapped his chin.

"So a genuine [Acolyte] of our Dread Mother. Well, Madeleine, I believe we've a new–" This was a sisterhood and a cult, was it not?

"No, Madeleine stays. She's my… fri–member of my cult.," I said. She smiled appreciatively at me, but her eyes were boring into my skull. Elias leaned back into his chair, but picked up his utensils.

"Fine, your terms are acceptable. And if our Dread Mother wants a succession, She will have one. Nonetheless, Lady Hart, how is this? If you wish to be a supplier of Hawthorne Manor, we require a minimum of 200 Product a week." I chewed my cheek and looked at Madeleine. She kept her eyes fixed with mine. I pursed my lips into a thin smile, and nodded.

"Fine, but you have to buy all my crops, not just 200."

"We've to see if you can even hit the minimum quota, Lady Hart."