They arrived shortly, holding hands in the huge gardens of the royal family's summer residence located on the outskirts of the city of London.
Looking around Brooke noticed such splendour that she was amazed to find such beauty before her eyes.
Brooklyn was on the other hand a noble of a small island mostly inhabited by fishermen and in her life apart from the huge and beautiful house where she was born, she had never seen anything more sumptuous than that.
She was enormously wrong.
Huge marble fountains enlivened by showy jets of transparent water, the ground covered with small gravel stones, and the huge and magnificent Royal Villa which together with its gardens occupied the large space.
And if this was just a summer residence the young woman dared not imagine how big the real castle of the royal family could be.
Brooke's family had disappeared since that afternoon, she had no longer been able to notice their carriage but it was nothing new for her that her brothers had abandoned her again.
-You were lucky Brooke that I found you still alive- admitted the young duchess with a still saddened look taking both hands of the other in hers -since after the funeral your father and you have been declared missing...- Abigail began to speak looking at the other with her expressive green eyes.
Brooke knew exactly what had happened and knew that her father's body would not be easily found due to the cunning of the rulers of Wales.
-Your older brothers and mother have withdrawn again to the Isle of Man with the desire that to protect you you will be kept here with us- the young woman concluded the explanation reassuring her.
For her sake? Brooklyn must have been too stupid to believe that never in her life had her relatives really thought about her own good: they were afraid, Walter most of all and she was well aware that she would probably never see any of them again.
However the scene gave way to a quick and loving hug from Abigail herself making Brooke herself blush.
Brooke could touch her long hair, it was soft and smelled of fresh lily balm of hers, so good...
-I'm so sorry- Abigail admitted believing that inside the young woman's heart sadness was consuming her -I'm so sorry for what happened to your father- she whispered in her ears.
But on her side, Brooklyn was happy that she no longer had to depend on anyone or be sacrificed for a cause she didn't support at all.
-I have to leave you now...- Lady Abigail lowered her gaze slightly and with it part of her red hair that fell on her back -I really don't have too much time, it was still a pleasure to meet you- she thanked her by so weakly shaking her hand.
Brooke returned with a lively and sincere smile on her face she shook hands with her and with almost innate speed followed with her gaze the young duchess becoming smaller and smaller until she disappeared on the horizon behind the large and heavy doors of the castle.
She was thus left alone in the courtyard, in the midst of so much beauty.
Brooke took a deep breath of the fresh air, on the one hand she was happy to be there, to be able to freely carry out the revenge she so longed for and to have already acquired a new cute friend from the first moment.
A voice drew her attention causing her to open her eyes again.
-Hey you, kid!- the voice came from a point in front of the fountain and sounded like a male voice -are you Brooklyn Stanley? Gilbert's younger brother?-.
The young woman looked at who it was: it was a young man about twenty who sat composedly with his body resting on the marble extremities of the gushing fountain.
The young man had two large dark eyes, a pale face covered with dark freckles, a regular nose, and hair, almost curly, of a light brown colour that went down to his shoulders.
He was dressed in fine clothes and inside his hands he held a stone with scratches of a grey colour and a knife, like those that were often used to cut small shrubs inside the forest, he was sharpening it.
-My name is Francis Hoover- the young man began to speak again jumping down from the fountain, always holding the knife in his hands and aggressively observing the light blue eyes of the other -I would like you to tell me which your purpose is here...-.
Brooke wasn't afraid of him, even though she was smaller than the young man she knew how to fight, Gilbert taught her.
She couldn't stand anyone taking advantage of her, not like that.
-I came this far to avenge my brother's death- Brooklyn answered, quickly placing a hand in her pocket where she was holding the blade and preparing to extract it at the right moment.
-Excuse me- Francis admitted pointing the knife towards her -I'm sorry kid but I just can't allow this as I will be the first to avenge the death of my best friend...-.
Brooke gritted her teeth, she couldn't believe someone else, her competitor and her opponent could try to steal her chance to avenge her brother, she couldn't allow it.
-So why haven't you already done it?- Brooklyn asked trying to instigate and tease her rival more -on the other hand, you have been at court for much longer than me...-.
At those words Francis gritted his teeth.
Not even he could allow anyone else to take his place in revenge for Gilbert and his younger brother Thomas.
-Do the whole court a favour...- Francis began to speak after having accepted the offence and lowered the knife -get out of here, you are too small and weak for such a thing, your proof of revenge would be almost useless-.
But at those words of the marquis, Brooklyn did not let herself down, on the contrary a greater pride rose in her promptly bringing her to extract her blade from her pocket.
-If you want me to go away you will first have to defeat me in a duel!- admitted the young woman pointing the sharp but small blade towards Francis -in case I win I will stay at court and undisturbed I will have my revenge...if you lose then you you will pull back completely and accept that you have been defeated by a woman- Brooke proposed now ready and determined to battle.
A woman? Could Francis have heard correctly that a girl was actually hiding under male clothes?
-I am not used to fight against girls...- Francis admitted trying to hit the young woman but being abruptly blocked by the blade that she was holding in her hands -but you will agree to surrender, my knife is much stronger than your blade...it will soon break- Francis tried again to persuade her, while he pressed the blade of his knife further against that of the young woman.
Brooke gritted her teeth, she couldn't do it, she couldn't give up, she couldn't allow it, so in an attempt to push Francis' body away from hers she threw a hard kick with the sole of her foot at the top of his stomach, letting the blade fall on the marquis wrist and thus causing him to slip over the numerous gravels and hit his head.
The girl knew she had broken the rules: in duels it was forbidden to use kicks and punches but she couldn't do otherwise, Francis was right, her knife was too strong and hard compared to her blade.
Francis soon stood up, he checked the sleeve of his white shirt where the knife had fallen.
It was lacerated and fresh and red blood came out of the wound, at the sight of which the young man's pale face paled more leading him to maniacally observe the blue eyes of the opponent almost as if frightened.
Brooke looked into Francis' dark eyes, they were full of terror almost as if that wound had reminded him of something frightening and traumatic.
She felt guilty for what happened and rushed to her help trying to lift the torn sleeve of his white shirt and better analyse the wound.
But as she tried to make such a gesture Francis soon stopped her hand to prevent her from lifting the sleeve of his shirt, as if to hide something.
But Brooke's guilt was even stronger than Francis's fear and so even against the will of the marquis she raised his sleeve, bringing it up to his forearm.
Francis' arms were filled with old scars from wounds and filled with the remnants of red barrels.
-I didn't want anyone to see it- Francis admitted bringing down the sleeve of his long white shirt from his forearm and thus getting back on his feet.
The young man looked away, his cheeks were full of a strange and strong blush, he was embarrassed, it was his secret.
Brooke knew those injuries were not induced by himself, she knew someone had violently beat him and the knowledge of this particular, the young woman was really sorry.
-What happened to you Francis? -she asked continuing to observe the embarrassed face of the young man and thus placing both hands on his shoulders - talk about it, you will immediately feel better - she urged him.
-It was my father- the marquis' eyes filled with wet and cold tears -he doesn't care about me, I'm just an illegitimate son for him, a puppet, with whom he can vent all his anger...- he admitted as the first tears began to fall on his reddened cheeks -he does not accept who I am...who I love...my homosexuality...so he did this to me-.
Brooke felt completely sorry and she knew it was appropriate to give the boy a quick but warm hug.
-I'm so sorry...- Brooklyn admitted hugging him -I wish I could do something for you...-.
-We'll do it, you can help me- Francis was relieved as placing his face on the Brooke's shoulder his tears came to wet her shirt too -now I just feel so stupid and naive for having behaved so rude to you-.
At those words Brooklyn smiled faintly trying to soften the already difficult situation. -I was also wrong, it also happens to me sometimes to unload my problems on those around me ...- she did so immediately ending the hug with the young man and returning to look him in his eyes.
-We both have good reasons- Francis admitted wiping the tears that had fallen from his dark eyes with the palm of his hand -and it is too long that the people endure hunger and malaise, thinking that like our loved ones, every day lives of many commoners end unjustly...- Francis commented: he being an illegitimate child had by now lived and learned several lessons from two completely different realities.
-Continuing to fight will lead us to nothing- Brooklyn commented attentively listening to the motivations of her partner -we should ally ourselves, to avenge the death of those who have been torn away from us and at the same time trying to end all this popular malaise- Brooke commented this time turning her gaze away.
-I know thousands of people willing to follow our cause, to rebel against all this...- Francis admitted returning to look into the light blue eyes of the girl -we just have to find the right people and wait for the right moment of greater weakness to attack-.