"Why did he say that?"
"Hm?" Merry snapped her head around, trying her best to appear ignorant. "What did he say?"
"Nulla nobis. My family's quote," Careth said, closing the trapdoor. The wooden panel descended a few inches before the isolated marble flooring slid above it, concealing its existence. Careth brought his hand to his chin and pondered, "Was he giving me a warning? That I still can't trust him even though we've made a deal?"
"Probably," Merry commented, and changed the topic. "So how do you plan to escape? Do you already have a place to go in mind?"
Careth shook his head. "I still can't decide on it. It's either I blend into the town, or I sneak into the neighbouring towns, like Accruxia or Dalphenstern. But if I stay in Hiraeth, there's no doubt I'll be a wanted profile, and I know I'm not capable enough to outrun the police. If I sneak into the neighbours', one slip-up and there could be diplomatic disasters." He leaned against the bookshelf, sighing exasperatedly. "It's like I have no right place to go."
"What about Witherblaire Forest?"
The sound of those words sent Careth springing from his relaxed position, and he turned to Merry with an incredulous expression. "Witherblaire? Are you crazy? How about I just stay here and get slaughtered?"
"But if you go there, all you need to worry about is your safety. Whereas in town or out of town, you have to worry about people turning you in, or stirring up unwanted attention," Merry explained, her composure strangely calm which Careth found bizzare.
"There's monsters in those woods! Not only Sullers, but actual, wild, bloodthirsty beasts!" He exclaimed, feeling as though he was spelling out the alphabet to an adult. "I can't survive a minute in there!"
"But you can't go into town!" It was Merry's turn to raise her voice, and Careth was taken aback. She quickly recovered herself by saying, "Hiraeth may be safe, but everyone knows you. You'll get sent back to the manor faster than surviving in that woodland. Also, the forest is right behind this building, which saves a lot of trouble if you ask me."
Careth was about to argue again, but a memory from geography class flashed through his mind, and he caught himself.
"If I remember correctly, the forest is right between Accruxia and Hiraeth. That means if I can get past it and enter their borders, I stand a chance." He paced around, thinking aloud. "I just have to choose the shortest route to get there. Accruxians are quite lax and careless as well, so if I disguise myself properly, I might blend in with no issues."
Hope shed its light on his face as he smiled with optimism. "I think...I think it can happen."
Merry grinned, internally relieved at the fact that she managed to persuade him. "As long as you survive getting through the forest quick enough, it's possible."
Their discussion was interrupted by faint laughter coming from the door. Careth and Merry stuck their backs to the bookshelf as the library doors creaked open, two female servants wandering in.
"Girl, I'm not gonna search this whole place," complained one with a thick accent. "The young master always shows up with his girlfriend in his room anyway. I don't get why master wants us to check everywhere."
The other hummed in agreement. "Probably because the tea party's near. He wants to make sure they ain't off running anywhere, since, you know..."
They were both quiet for a while, then the first girl resumed being loud. "Ah, poor boy. Either way, I ain't wasting my time here. I'll go tell master they're in the heir's room, and you go save me a seat at dinner. I tell you, Anna's been..."
Only when their chittering voices faded did Careth and Merry breathe. They stumbled back into the light, grasping their pounding hearts.
"I was right," Careth said, his brows knitting in utter disappointment at their betrayal. "They knew all along."
"But they mentioned about a tea party. What's that?" Merry inquired, to which he shrugged.
"I have no clue. But I'll keep it in mind. I should be informed of it soon, seeing that it sounds like an event."
All of a sudden, one of the words the servants gossiped resurfaced in his mind, and he rubbed his nose on purpose to cover his reddening face.
"Let's get going. They're expecting us."
—
Shortly after they returned, Merry had to bid goodbye to Careth. As he sent her off, Careth stayed for a while to admire the setting sun's blessed touch on her golden hair, making Merry radiate ever more beautifully in her wonder. Her teal eyes were those of a precious gem, sparkling lively with joy that was always a beauty to behold in Careth's opinion. Her petite figure was something he found odd, as in his memory Merry had the stamina and strength of an Oom. Nevertheless, it suited her appearance as one of the nobles in town, where running and playing in the field is often a habit frowned upon.
He smiled a little at her small polite nod to the coachman; she seemed to be as timid as a mouse, but Careth knew she can also be like a cat, as she always chased him around tirelessly when they played Hide and Run. That one time when he came up with a trick and outsmarted her, Merry had pouted as she complained about him cheating—and honestly, even though he doesn't want to admit it, Careth found that adorable.
But as her carriage got further and further away from the estate, he couldn't help but feel a hole of loneliness opening back up in his chest. A hole that swallowed his warmth and regurgitated the hardened, stoical composure he was trained to present. For the past few years, Careth had wondered; if Merry hadn't been introduced into his life, would he still be able to find the same warmth amidst this cold household?
His monologue was cut short by a familiar ringing of a bell, signalling the re-arrival of Miss Circum—which can also be spelt as his impending doom.
—
"Careth, this is unheard of!"
The elderly lady slapped his workbook onto the table, her nostrils flaring which made her pointed nose even more keen. "I could forgive you for the courtesy lessons earlier, since you were injured, but not finishing your homework when it's due is outrageous! You're not using your shoulder to write, are you?"
Careth pursed his lips. He maintained a straight face, but inside he was fuming. The old woman probably knew what was going to happen to him in a few weeks, and yet she's still pinpointing his errors as though he was going to be the heir in the future.
Miss Circum sat on a nearby chair and took off her spectacles, resting her forehead on her knuckles like a downcast mother. "Is the town's work bombarding you? Honestly, you shouldn't have taken up the responsibility. You're only fif—soon to be fifteen. You should've just left the adult work to adults."
Her words were sour and stinging, and he swallowed that remark bitterly. Though it was tempting to retort, Careth remained silent and continued on with his corrections. He was being extra careful of his every movement, as he was afraid he may seem like he knew something he should not.
"I should tell the Master to let you off some of the town's work. It's not your business anyway—oh, could the girl have been a distraction too?"
Careth resisted the urge to react. Luckily, Miss Circum did not notice anything amiss, and continued rambling on.
"Yes, it is a possibility. I shall also inform the Master of that... maybe cutting down your free time would teach you a good lesson on discipline."
Careth was alarmed. This meant he had lesser time to meet with Rian, which meant lesser time to plan his escape. He tried to reason with her, but before he could utter a word, the tutor stood up from her seat and ambled around the guest room, tapping the temple tips of her spectacles to her chin ominously.
"You will need to do two extra chapters on history, and write an essay on why the literacy bar should be lower. I am also expecting you to catch up on today's missed courtesy classes and perfect your formal dance techniques which we will be focusing on tomorrow. With the reduced workload and breaks, I suppose you have sufficient time to complete all that I have said." Her voice mocked Careth with glee. "It should not be a problem for you, I believe."
There was only one answer to that reply, and it was, "Yes, Miss Circum."
—
The ride back to her home was not always pleasant. Although from afar it may seem as though the carriage was progressing rather smoothly, the first time Merry experienced the tremor, it was so powerful that it left her bones still quivering even after stepping onto flat land. However, as she visited the Willdyers daily, she had adapted well to the turbulence; to her surprise, now it had a rather soporific effect.
She gazed at the manor as it shrunk in view, keeping an eye on the boy at the window. He was looking too, and even though Merry couldn't see his facial expressions, she knew he was dreading to see the carriage go. The hour between six and seven was their only opportunity to see each other, and within that time they promised to cherish each and every second of it. For the hours beyond seven were those of mundane, dull realities they hated to face—and in the case of Merry, her reality was ongoing dilemma.
The carriage slowed to a halt on cobblestone paths, which led the way into the Gensweathe home, a quaint chalet made out of dark oak and surrounded by well-trimmed hedges dotted with daisies. Merry got off the transport and curtseyed to the coachman, who tipped his hat at her. As he pulled away, she entered the compound with heavy steps, like how she always had.
"She's back! She's back!"
Merry was greeted with a blow to the stomach at the door as a midget rammed into her, looking up with wild, mint green eyes. "You're back!"
"Yes, yes, I'm home," Merry grunted, shrugging off her buoyant little sister. "You're awfully energetic today."
"Jacy, is it Mary?" A voice came from inside the kitchen, and a woman's head popped over to look at the siblings. "Just in time for dinner. Come here and let's eat!"
Jacy tugged on her big sister, pulling her towards the kitchen. "Mom made casserole today. It smelled so good even the gatekeepers wanted to try! Come on! I'm hungry!"
Merry laughed. "So that's why you were so excited."
The sisters sat down at the table, with their father and mother across them. Mrs Gensweathe placed the casserole right in the middle, its tantalizing smell ever enticing, and Jacy had already prepared to stab her fork into the dish.
"Now, now, Jacylith, you don't start unless everyone has been seated," Mr Gensweathe said, plucking the fork from her tiny hands. Jacy whined and sat back down impatiently, her eyes fixated on the pot like a hawk.
When Mrs Gensweathe had finally taken her seat, they began to dine. Jacy was quick to finish her portions, as she was a feisty one, and left early to buzz around the house as her form of exercise to digest quickly. Next was Mr Gensweathe, who stayed at the table to read an autobiography he had borrowed from the town library. Mrs Gensweathe used to always be the last one to leave, as she savoured every bite of the meal to indulge in her own cooking. However, since yesterday Merry had been at the table longer than her, and took quite an effort to finish her dinner too.
"Darling, is something wrong?" Her mother asked, which snapped Merry out of her daze.
"Hm? Oh no, mom. I'm just not feeling like eating." She poked at her food playfully, saying, "I've eaten something at Careth's."
Mrs Gensweathe heard the name, and put down her dinner knife slowly. "Actually, Mary, about that boy. Is there anything? Any... improvements?"
When her daughter did not answer, Mrs Gensweathe sighed and glanced at her husband, who casually flipped a page of his leisure read. She said under her breath, "And you're just sitting there, reading?"
The man adjusted his spectacles and replied, "What can we do? Are you going to pray and wish that he was suddenly bestowed with powers? If he's not Blessed, he's not."
"I don't care whether he's Blessed or not," the woman hissed, careful to not let the smaller one overhear. "I care about what happens to us after he dies. We're going to lose everything. This house, this life, and this reputation! Do you want to go back to how we were before?"
Mr Gensweathe did not reply. He closed his book and set it on the table, then looked up at Merry, his stare piercing right through her soul.
"Marylith, how are you and the boy?"
Merry began to sweat as she answered, "Like always."
He nodded. "Keep it that way. Make sure he knows nothing, and keep doing what you're supposed to do. Don't think about anything else and just do your job. I... will find a way to handle this."
Her father stood up and left the dining table, placing his plate in the sink before grabbing his book and proceeding upstairs. Mrs Gensweathe and Merry cleaned up the rest, and she spoke in a low voice to her daughter, "I always say this, but remember to not get attached. Never get attached to the boy. You understand me? Don't do anything that will make our future even worse."
Merry nodded, washing and drying the dishes robotically by her mother. When she was done, she played pirate with Jacy for an hour before the little girl was finally drained of energy. Merry carried her to their shared bedroom, tucking her into bed and kissed her forehead gently. When she could no longer hear footsteps outside the room, she reached under her own bed and propped open a notebook. The notebook was filled with messy, hardly legible writing which would've made Careth say 'I cannot tell if these were written by a person or a chicken.'
But maybe it was right to have such horrible handwriting if one could not figure out what was actually written. It was her goal after all, to keep the information hidden. So if one had been able to decipher the deformed writings, they would understand that it contained the descriptions and explanations of various monsters in Witherblaire Forest, safe spots that would allow them to hide, and possible routes they can take to exit the woodland unscathed.