Twittering birds flocked from one branch to another, as restless as the crowd of nobles waiting at the manor gates. Ladies in dresses with flaunting frills and ruffs swatted their hands to make wind under the sweltering sun, while gentlemen clad in formal suits and ties shuffled their collars for the umpteenth time.
At nine o'clock sharp, the gates groaned as they were pulled apart by the guards, and the nobles swarmed into the estate. Careth watched them from the guest room window, having a desire to puke at their exhilaration. They basically had front row seats to his execution.
Nonetheless, nothing matters now. He was called from outside the room to greet the guests, and with a practiced smile, Careth went to the foyer to welcome the noble townspeople.
Chin up.
Lips stretched.
Corner of the eyes crinkled.
"My, Careth! It's been a while since we last saw you!" gasped a noblewomen's face he did not remember. He bowed and went on with the next.
"You've grown into a fine young man. Happy birthday, boy," complimented a gentlemen with a top hat that obscured most of his face. Careth shook his hand firmly, and alternated his hand-shaking and bowing according to the remaining guests' gender.
After formally greeting the guests, Careth followed the servants to the ballroom. The room was reserved for only weddings and birthdays, but even with the scarcity of its use, the spacious area was still kept spotless. The air was as fresh as the outside, as if every dust that could've tainted the room were cleansed away completely. Maroon curtains hung in front of the glass windows, drew back to allow sunlight to pour in. And above all, the polished chandelier gleamed ever so brightly, with natural rays of light reflecting off the diamonds, creating iridescent shards of light that danced on the ballroom floor.
Careth had to admit its magnificence. The maids did no small feat to prepare this for the tea party. As he made his way down the stairs, he scanned the crowd for a familiar face he saw during the greetings. Golden hair, teal eyes...
He quickened his pace when he saw her. But as Careth was about to make contact, he was yanked away by a force that he recognized all too well.
Sir Felluor dragged his grandson to the rostrum, an elevated platform that allows the viewer to oversee all that is in the ballroom. Careth was placed next to his father, who stood next to his father, completing the currently available Willdyer family line.
Master Willdyer started. "A pleasant morning to all of you. As you all may know, we are gathered here today to celebrate the next heir's fifteenth birthday. We hope sincerely that you will enjoy the festivities for today. Careth, do you have anything to say?"
Although he had none, Careth took the stage anyway, and delivered his words. "As much as it is my birthday, I hope all the guests present will feel as excited as I do. Please enjoy the rest of the day."
The crowd erupted in applause, and as the Willdyers exited from the left, a band took the stage from the right. Strums of stringed instruments and percussions sounded throughout the room lively, weaving in between conversations of the attendees and those who spun on the dance floor.
Careth continued his search for Merry, brushing past shoulders and arms whilst keeping his attire in check. At last, he found her by the curtains, her eyes in a dim as she stared around blankly.
He caught her hand, and Merry's attention turned to him. She gasped softly, as if she didn't expect to see him, and gave him a swift hug although she wanted to hold him longer.
"I'll get you out. I promised you. And I will keep it," she said, but Careth merely smiled.
"Merry, can I have this dance with you?" He extended his hand and lowered his head slightly.
Merry hesitated, before accepting his hand. Careth brought her close to the center, and as they moved to the beat, Merry tried to stir up the pressing subject.
"Careth, you have a plan, don't you? If you don't, I can tell you mine," she said, twirling as Careth lifted her hand up.
"You're not smiling today. Could you smile for me, please?" he asked.
The girl was confused with his odd behaviour. "You're just acting, right? Later before we dine, there's a small break for the servants to set up the tea party. We can use that time to run away."
Again, Careth ignored her suggestion and asked. "Merry, could you smile for me?"
Exasperated, Merry tightened her grip on his shoulders and hand, and they crossed their arms over each other's heads, before resuming to normal steps. "Careth, don't tell me... you've given up?"
He gently nodded as a response. "So for today, can I please see you smile? It's the one thing that makes me feel better about all of this."
Careth dipped her down and she said, "No... how can I smile, when I know what's going to happen to you?" Merry could feel the waterworks gearing up. "Do what I say, Careth. Meet me at your room during the short break."
"I'm afraid I can't do that." He twirled her for the final time, and finished their dance while holding each other's hands. "I've been told this morning that I'm not allowed to leave a room unless I'm accompanied by the grandmaster. No matter how much I try, I know for a fact that I will still not walk out of this alive."
Merry was devastated. Careth brushed a stray tear on her cheeks, saying comfortingly, "But it's all right, Merry. I'm prepared. So let's spend the whole time together, hm? I want to be with you for the rest of the day. And I think that's allowed, right?" He cocked his head towards the group of gossiping noblewomen who had been spying on them like hawks since the beginning.
The girl steadied her emotions and nodded, and Careth led her to the curtains. He was more touchy with her today, resting his head on her shoulder and hugging her arm as they leaned by the glass windows. As much as Merry appreciated his gesture, she was an emotional mess—not knowing whether to be elated or depressed in this situation.
"You know, I regret something," Careth said as he entwined his fingers with hers. "I've been so focused on getting out of here, I forgot to enjoy my last moments. But now that I know I have nothing to be afraid of anymore, I feel so much at peace, being able to spend time with you."
Merry held back a sob. "Don't say that, please. God, this is all my fault. If I had told you in the first place, we could've stood a chance at—"
He tightened his grip on her hand. "Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who's giving up here, and it's because I'm tired of it." Careth lifted his head to look at her, her tears shining like jewels as it ran down her face. "I don't want to run anymore, Merry. I just want to be with you."
The girl whimpered, and Careth embraced her warmly. Softly, she whispered into his ear, "Marylith. My real name is Marylith."
Careth pulled back in surprise, and his face lit up with pure joy. "Marylith. That's a beautiful name. Then, Marylith Gensweathe, could you devote your entire afternoon to me?"
Merry didn't answer, but instead drew the curtains as their shadows closed in on each other.
—
As the band played their last note, Master Willdyer returned to the rostrum and rang a bell to get the guests' attention.
"Our main event for today has come. The tea party will commence now. Esteemed guests and the Gensweathe family, please proceed to the dining hall on the ground floor. We will meet here again at four o'clock."
Upon hearing his announcement, Careth and Merry returned to the center, and the boy ruffled his tousled hair. "I need to wait for my grandfather. You can go on first."
Merry shook her head and clamped herself onto him. "No. We're going in together. I'm not leaving you for a second."
Careth was touched by her affection. He felt even more at peace, and now not even the menacing figure of Sir Felluor approaching them could disturb his tranquility.
"Let's go, boy. Merry, you best be with your father. Don't want him to look alone, seeing as only both of you came," he said as he placed a hand behind Careth's back.
The heir turned to her, puzzled, and Merry explained her situation. Once he understood, he said in a low voice, "I think you should go with your father. I don't want the nobles to be making gossip about your family."
Reluctant, Merry let go and hurried to her father, who was waiting at the door. Careth watched as the father and daughter went up the stairs that led to the foyer, and was suddenly pushed forward.
"Don't waste time. We have a schedule," his grandfather hissed, and Careth rolled his eyes.
"Shouldn't you be thankful that I'm not running away anymore?"
Sir Felluor bent to his height. "I'm not believing you for a second until I see you buried, alive or dead, under the marigold meadow."
Careth chuckled. "So that's where I'm taken to after death. Interesting. I've been living next to a cemetery this whole time."
He was shoved forwards again, and Careth stopped talking and headed for the dining hall.
The long, vertical dining table had been replaced with smaller circular ones, and the Willdyer family was seated right in the center of the room, in front of the lit mantle. Just like his practice lessons, the same sets of teacups, saucers and tea stands were neatly set up with food and tea already served. Careth took a seat in front of his father, who had been looking down ever since his arrival.
Careth turned around and saw the Gensweathe family seated a few feet away. Merry was looking at him in worry, and Careth flashed her a comforting smile, in hopes that it will ease her concerns.
"I believe we can all start, seeing that everyone is present," Sir Felluor said, and sat at the same table. The room began to buzz with conversations, but even so, Careth could feel the stares of a thousand eyes focusing on him, scrutinizing his every action.
He first stirred his tea, keeping mind to not touch the sides, and took a quiet sip. As he swirled the beverage in his mouth, Careth could feel no difference in taste compared to the tea used in his lessons. He deduced that the tea was not poisoned.
'Grandfather really changed it,' he thought, but was not surprised. Careth continued by eating his sandwiches, scones and pastries, but they all tasted the same, and at this Careth was beginning to feel confused.
He looked to his father, but the man merely busied himself by adding milk to his tea. Sir Felluor was scarfing down his scones, not paying any attention to him.
'Did I... Did I survive the poison?' Careth thought, and for a moment, he wanted to jump and burst with excitement.
"More tea, young master?" A servant asked, holding the teapot and walking towards him. Careth was about to deny when she tripped, spilling the contents inside the teapot onto him, with some drops entering his mouth.
Before Careth could scream due to the scalding tea on him, his chest tightened, and he felt as though someone had placed a cork in his windpipe. Careth collapsed on the floor, his muscles spasming and burning, and he tried to gasp for air, but he was unable to breathe.
Mr. Gensweathe held his daughter's hand and pulled her to leave, but Merry was determined to stay. She cried his name and lunged forward, resulting in her father needing to hug her to himself.
Careth's vision began to blur, and he saw from the corner of his eye, a frantic golden colour moving erratically. He cracked a weak smile, and mouthed her his last words.
'I forgive you.'
The heir stopped moving, and the dining hall went silent. As the crowd watched on, muttering in disbelief and some in disappointment, Sir Felluor called for the new nurse.
She entered the room modestly, kneeling beside Careth's body and checked for a pulse. After a few seconds, she stood back up and faced the room, and Merry would've broke down if her father hadn't already rushed them both out of the room.
"On February eleventh, at a quarter past three, the young master, Careth Willdyer, has died."