Roalis 14th, 2718
VIENDA | AFTERNOON
VIENDA | AFTERNOON
Perhaps he was already working? Perhaps he was asleep still? Whatever he was doing, she hoped it was far away.
Taking the stairs, she didn’t even get the chance to turn the door handle before it opened on its own, a wide eyed young passive curtsying and ushering the galdori inside.
“Quickly Miss, you must hurry! Inside, inside quickly!” The blonde blinked, allowing the girl to drag her inside and watching with a slightly increased heart rate as the passive closed the door gently and turned to her better.
“He’s been out looking for you, and Miss he’s ever so angry.” Charity felt a cold wave of fear creep up her spine, adrenaline catching her fluttering heart and sending it racing. Her mouth went dry and her violet eyes shifted to the window.
Did he know?
“I went out after the theatre, to Diaxio’s. He knows I go there some evenings. I fell asleep, it’s happened before. Better to stay with her than wander Vienda like some homeless scrap.” She scoffed, oblivious to the passives slight wince at her choice of words, placing a hand on the galdor’s shoulder and guiding her upstairs.
“Very good Miss, but I’m not the one to tell. He’ll be home soon, very angry. Perhaps a bath could be in order? No gentlemen would ever intrude on a woman in the bath.” Charity moved slowly, nodding as they walked. Even if they weren’t friends, the servant couldn’t bare to watch the captain take his rage out on his petite daughter. It should have been funny, or liberating in some way, but after the first few times the young passive saw it go too long and too far. No one deserved that, not even a galdori.
Hurrying to the bathroom, the passive ran her mistress a bath whilst Charity undressed, her fingers trembling as she worked her way out of the dress. Through the house they both heard it, the sound of a door slamming and raised voices. The pianist jumped, moving to get into the bath as fast as she could, heavy footsteps on the staircase terrifying her.
“Charity Ann D’Arthe!” Damens voice boomed through the locker door, just as Charity sat on the bottom. The passive stared wide eyed as she held a towel for the woman, frozen in fear. The pale creature found her voice, trying to calm her field.
“Yes, sir? I’m here in the bath.” She called out as calmly as she could, the water barely a degree above chilled. They hadn’t had time for hot water, but frankly she couldn’t feel it. Her body was poised, every muscle tense with the urge to flee. Gods, his field all but raged through the door like a bubbling inferno. There was a long silence, before Damen spoke again.
“Open this door. Now.” Charity looked at the passive with shock, shaking her head.
“N-no that’s...I’m not dressed.” She stammered, realising now that he was beyond angry. He was furious. Alioe, he knew. He must know about Rhys.
“Open it, or I will break it down.” Swallowing hard, Charity quickly stood, taking the towel from the passive and wrapping it around herself.
“Just a minute, I’m—“
“OPEN THE CLOCKING DOOR!” He bellowed, the door rattling hard with a loud bang as a balled fist punched into it. Moving with speed, field right with terror, the blonde unlocked it and opened the door as fast as she could. Damen stood in the doorway, eyes glaring into her very soul and hands fisted. His greying hair was slightly dishevelled and a vein bulged in his neck. His breathing was heavy, and his field burning.
“Yes?” She asked from the doorway, dripping water onto the tiled floor as they stood facing each other. He towered over her, though most people did, just looking her over with a slow investigating movement.
“Where the tocks were you all night? I’ve been searching the city for hours. You should have been home before the first houses of the day.” Charity nodded, holding the towel tightly.
“I went out with Xi and a couple of the theatre folk after the performance. It got late, and I assumed you’d prefer I stayed the night in her home than walk Vienda after midnight?” She lied smoothly, knowing in that moment her safety depended on his believing her. For emphasis she grabbed the dress from the frozen passive.
“See father? This is hers. If you don’t believe me, you can ask her.” Captain D’Arthe looked at the dress, before looking back at Charity. He took a couple of deep breaths, before sweeping a hand through his hair to neaten it, and adjusting his Seventen uniform. The greens on her father made the woman want to vomit. Rhys wore them far better.
“I went to Diaxio’s, you weren’t there. Neither of you were. I went to the theatre, but it was already cleared out. I’d been told there’d been a scuffle in the alleyway, so was concerned. Perhaps, perhaps I’d missed you both between the house and the theatre.” The man reasoned with himself, whilst Charity nodded, offering a small smile.
“See father, you’ve got yourself upset for nothing. Now, I’ll be out soon, if you care to give a lady some privacy?” She reached out a hand to rub his arm gently, every instinct telling her to pull away. The older galdor frowned, glancing down at his daughter, looking over her with an expression that turned her stomach. The blonde drew her hand away, holding the towel tighter and moving gently to shut the door. Damen stopped it with one firm hand, before reaching up to tuck long platinum strands away from her face with an unaccustomed gentleness.
“You look so like your mother Charity, so much like her. You have her hair, and her skin.” His aged fingers brushed her cheek, dropping to the soft cool curve of her shoulder. The young woman felt her stomach turn, seeing something in her father’s eyes that she’d not seen before. He reminded her of Benjamin from the night before, causing her breath to catch in her throat as he roamed the spanse of what skin the towel didn’t cover.
“Giorans are so elegant, and Alioe, she was a creature of light when I met her. So perfect and pristine, untouched.” Gods she couldn’t stand his fingers as they trailed down her collarbone, but she held herself still out of fear and confusion. Her violet eyes almost pleaded with the larger man, her father, as his own Bastian blue ones met hers.
“So much like her, and nothing like me.” He growled, hand suddenly around her throat in a tight grip. Charity cried out, a strangled sound, as Damen pulled her closer to breathe in her ear, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her neck.
“You belong to me, Charity Ann. Don’t ever forget that. Next time you want to galavant the city with Diaxio, you will be home before I start my patrols on the second hour. No later.” Her hands scratched at his paw, breath wheezing and eyes wide. For what seemed like hours, he held her like that, hot breath against her ear as she struggled for air, before throwing her back into the bathroom with force. Charity slipped, her hip and elbow smacking painfully against the porcelain lined tub, scrambling to keep her modesty whilst gasping and coughing for air. Damen looked down at her, lip curling in disgust.
“Nothing like me. Get some clothes on, you look like a whore. We have a meeting at the Belraths Estate this evening for tea. Mrs Belrath wants to introduce us to her cousin. He’s a banker from Hesse, with several friends in the Court so she says. Wear the gold frock I bought from Bastia, oh, and keep your hair out. It’s pretty out.” Tugging on his sleeves, and adjusting his sash, Captain D’Arthe pulled the door closed, leaving as though nothing had happened. Charity leaned against the bath, panting and shaking as the adrenaline coursed through her, unable to move. Her hip and elbow throbbed, and her field quivered. The passive stood still as a statue, her eyes still wide, frightened to move even though the terrifying man was gone.
Slowly, the pianist forced herself to sit up, hand moving to her throat and rubbing the bruises that had already formed there. Of course he told her to wear the gold dress, with its high collared neckline and lace trim, it covered everything perfectly.
“Don’t just stand there, help me.” She said softly, the passive blinking and rushing to help the blonde to her feet, pity in her gaze. Charity shoved her off, tears stinging her eyes and bile rising in her throat.
“Get out.” The pale creature whispered, watching the girl flee the room gratefully. Sitting on the edge of the tub, the shocked woman stared at the wall. Alioe, she wanted to run away. Back to Rhys home, back to his arms. He could make it better, all of it. She could go now, out the window, just get out and keep going and going. Away from her father, away from Vienda, away from Anaxas.
Charity burst into silent tears, holding herself tightly as she cried. The abuse, she knew. The violence, she endured but this...the look in his eyes.
This was new. And this was horrifying.
