"Alright," Marquis Praxis said. He hadn't even noticed that not once did Olivia call him father since she had come home from the castle. He never paid much attention to her. He also didn't notice that Olivia had not sought out his wife for help yesterday like she normally would. He had long stopped caring about Olivia as a person. If he could go back in time, he would not have adopted her. He was just lucky his daughter had not been influenced by her.
The convent would be the perfect place to fix Olivia's personality.
"I'll send word to the convent to expect you in a couple of weeks," he said with his face still stiff from anger.
"No!" Came a shriek from the door. Graciella appeared delicately but finely dressed, as she anxiously pushed her way into the room. "You can't!"
She dropped to the floor, kneeling in front of her father, "Please! She's my sister!"
The Marquis melted. His beloved daughter was now begging him on the behalf of this creature. He loved his daughter and wanted to give her everything she ever wanted.
But even in this he had limits. He could not allow Olivia to stay next to Graciella anymore.
He glared at Olivia, and said, "Go to your Room." As Olivia exited, she could hear him say, "Due to Olivia's actions she could no longer stay in this house. I should have sent her away a long time ago. Before she had a chance to ruin your reputation. But I know you love her. So I have kept her here as long as I could. But her actions at the Ball have shown me that Olivia will not learn to be good."
Olivia was suddenly relieved, and she began her trek to her room. She tried to look forlorn, but she was glowing on the inside. She would finally, finally get away from this family. After reading some of the diary left by her predecessor she knew she could not stay in this family.
Olivia closed the door to her room, jumped onto the bed, and squealed into the pillow happily. She did not want to have anyone hear her celebrate. If they were to know she was happy about this plan, then she would likely not have this plan succeed. There was no way she could risk this happening.
Olivia decided to look at the diary, and see if anything had changed due to her actions today.
She opened the diary and saw that nothing had changed. Didn't it change with her actions? How did this thing even work? It was not fair, if it did not show her what changes were being made.
She honestly wondered where the coffee stain even came from. Olivia never had anything to drink, when she was filling out the diary. She couldn't risk any servants seeing it, and delivering it to Graciella. She always made sure she would be alone, completely alone, when she filled out the diary. It was her one secret.
Olivia Suddenly hid the diary under her pillow, there was a knock at her door. She sat up on her bed in a penitent manner and said, come in.
It was the Butler. He didn't enter, but stood at the door. "Miss," said the Butler, "I have come to inform you per orders of the marquis, that you are grounded to your apartment. You are not to leave this apartment for any reason."
"I understand," Olivia said. "And for my meals?" She had asked because she knew that yesterday she had not been served a single meal after coming home from the castle. Not until Agetha brought her something to eat late in the day.
"Your meals will be brought up by me personally. The marquis wants you to have limited contact with everyone in this house until you go to the convent."
"I understand," Olivia said once again.
She knew she could not thank him. It would just breed suspicion, because the nobility did not thank their servants. Plus would she originally even have been happy about this if she was the original? She didn't know. "Is that everything?" Olivia asked as the Butler had not moved from the door.
"No," the Butler grimaced hesitantly, "The marquis has forbidden you from having any contact with Miss Graciela and with Mistress Praxis. You are not to allow anyone into your room, for any reason at all. And as the Marquis has stated, I am to be the only one that you will have contact with in this home, until you are taken to the convent. First it must be determined whether or not you are able to be accepted into the convent. The Marquis said he will revisit this issue, if you are not accepted. Until then, only I will have the key to your rooms."
"Does tat mean...?" Olivia asked "that I am also not to have contact with the Marquis, until my departure?"
"That is correct, Miss Olivia."
This was the first time any servant so far had said Olivia's name. She had not noticed it, until this moment. What is this some way of separating her status? To show her that she was the adopted daughter? She didn't know. Perhaps this was, and that order had come from Graciella. If this was the case, why did the butler state her name?
Perhaps Graciella did not have a hold on the Butler. Even if this was the case, it didn't matter. She was escaping. Even if it was taking a couple of weeks. She was escaping.
"Miss Olivia, I will be bringing up your breakfast within the hour. Once you are done eating your breakfast, please place the dishes next to the door," he said as he pointed to the spot next to the door.
"Olivia didn't know what to say to this, was this a normal request? It sounded odd. 'Am I in isolation? Well, I'm technically under house arrest. The only contact I have is when my meals are brought to me. This is the best jail I have ever seen.' She suddenly felt uncomfortable in her clothes.
"Before my grounding starts, can I have help getting into my day dress?," she asked. "I'll need a maid."
The Butler blushed, "I will send my wife."
Olivia nodded, her heart was pounding as she closed the door. This was better than she could have hoped! Now she would have no interaction with Graciella! She knew she could fool others. But she could not fool Graciella. Graciella would know there was something wrong with her.
She knew the butler's wife was on her way soon. She would have to calm down her excited heart by then. This was it. This was how she would survive until she made it to the convent. Convent. Even the word alone was full of hope.
A while later, there was a knock on the door. "Miss Olivia?" The voice on the other side of the door was a little curt.
"Come in," Olivia called. 'Would it kill the people in this house to treat Olivia with any kindness?' She thought, forgetting for a half second that she was now Olivia.
In walked a middle aged lady with rough hands. Her hair looked like it had been done neatly, but was now at the beginning stages of falling down. She brought a tray in with her delivering food to Olivia. She closed the door behind her, and set up the table. Olivia sat to eat. She then quickly began to change the bedding muttering while she did so, "Don't understand why I can't just send Agetha to come up here and do this. It's not my job. But nooo, she has to have limited contact. She is your daughter not a prisoner!"
Olivia smiled to herself. It was obvious this woman was speaking subconsciously.
"What's this?" She turned to Olivia. "Are you hurt?"
Olivia instinctively reached for the back of her head on the left side.
"Let me see." She went over to Olivia and moved her hair to see if she could find the wound.
"Hmmm... It's not very big. Good. It looks like it just bled a lot because it's a head injury. Were you dizzy?"
Olivia shook her head.
"Ok," she replied to Olivia. "Hold this." Olivia held her head and she felt fingers gently brushing some salve onto her head. The woman sighed and said, "You poor child. Agetha, my daughter, says you are very kind and take care of her. Everyone else says you are responsible for her scars. But I believe my daughter."
'Agetha is her daughter? This woman is the butler's wife, and Agetha's mother. So the Butler is also Agetha's parent? Argh! I wish I inherited some memories! Isn't that how these kind of stories go? I don't know their names, and now I feel too awkward to ask.'
The woman patted her cheek gently, and told her not to worry. Then she showed Olivia some clothing that would be easier to put on and take off herself without assistance. After that she left taking the old bedding with her. The new bedding smelled like it had been near a juniper tree. It was relaxing.
The strange thing was that even though she was under house arrest, she felt free.