"Aargh!" She screamed in frustration as she pulled her muddy cloak to her chest.
It was hard enough running through the slippery mud-paved roads in the pouring rain without having to straighten her torn dress every two seconds. When she had earlier pushed an enraged Pavia away from her, the girl had managed to tear her dress from the front, exposing half of her breast to the harsh beat of the piercing rain.
The tear wasn't helping to keep the cold out of her system. Her hands and legs were already numb from running in the rain for so long. Eve stopped next to a small cherry tree bereft of leaves, drooping towards a pair of enormous iron gates welded into towering boundary walls.
If she could trust anyone at all in the village, it was him. But the question was, should she trust him again? She thought, her hesitation swaying her resolve as she watched the well-lit two-storeyed mansion through the grills. But the voices of the crowd pursuing her soon caught up to her.
Cursing her luck, she lifted her skirt, putting a leg on the cherry tree as she climbed up its branches one at a time before jumping towards the other side of the gated mansion. Her all was cushioned by a heaped pile of now wet leaves that she knew the servants might have gathered in the morning.
Everything was just as she had remembered, she thought, rubbing the decaying matter off of her dress. She waited until the group of men passed the walls, their irritated grunts and murmurs reaching her on the other side. Eve grit her teeth at their speculations.
She heard one of them say "witch" and another say "monster". She had somehow managed to become a murderer overnight- one who had pulled out her father's beating heart, she thought, a shiver running down her spine. How did she land in such a situation?
"Did you see the way she outran all of us?" A woman asked, the sound cutting through the rain. Eve recognized Mrs Reed's shaky voice. She could picture the middle-aged woman instigating others with her theories, her forehead wrinkling as she did. "That girl is no human!"
"She's a cursed one!" Mr Taylor exclaimed. "Remember when her mother first..."
As the voices trailed off, Eve rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. Her eyes were burning from all the crying and her throat was getting dry. She was overwhelmed with a sense of grief, that refused to come out of her heart, twisting and turning her flesh from inside.
"Get a hold of yourself Eve," She murmured, biting down on the pain.
She had no time to pity herself. She needed to get out of this godforsaken village alive. If the villagers caught her, they were sure to burn her at the stake when the rain subsided. And by the looks of it, it didn't look like it was going to last that long. The rain was her only advantage right now. That and the man that she was going to seek help from, she thought, turning towards the mansion.
Taking a deep breath, Eve slid out of the hedge that ran along the huge cemented walls. She kept her cloak tightly around her frame as followed the garden path. She didn't even spot one servant patrolling the grounds like they usually did at night. Probably because of the rain, she thought, quickening her steps as she came into the light.
Eve stopped right outside a closed patio and looked up. Light streamed out the balcony on the second floor. It seemed like the young lord was still awake. Letting out a sigh of relief, she grabbed onto one of the cherry trees closest to her.
Without wasting another second, she climbed, retracing her steps from all those days she had spent in that very same balcony above, watching the cherry blooms with a young Hugh Tarleton's hand resting against the small of her back, careful to stay away from the prying eyes of the servants.
Eve stepped onto the balcony, putting one leg over the railing at a time. The branch snapped back into its place, the noise subdued under the whistling sound of the whirling wind and the occasional thunderclap. The white lacquered pillars and the tall french doors appeared as if they had been painted fresh.
Apart from a new tea table that had been left out in the rain, everything seemed all too familiar to her, even every swirling pattern in the white marble that covered the floor. Gathering all her courage, she stepped forward laying a hand on the door's handle. She had only slightly opened it when she heard the sound.
"Aaangh!" Cried out a man.
Eve's eyes widened in surprise. What was that sound? She wondered, leaning forward as she peeked through the space between the curtained double doors. Hugh Tarleton was on his knees on the bed fully clothes except for the open button of his pants, his hands gripping a bent man's hips tightly as he thrust forward with a grunt.
She recognized the blonde curls and the muscled body though his face was buried in the sheets. But what shocked her the most was at the other end of the bed. Grace Tarleton smiled, watching the young lord Cavanough grapple for her legs. She let out a small chuckle as he dragged her forward by her ankle, looking as drunk as the men in front of her.
Without any hesitation, she opened her legs wide for him, her skirt riding up her knees as Henry Cavanough settled himself between them, one of his hands reaching up to straddle her chest.
"Yesss!" Grace screamed, throwing her head back in pleasure. "Mhhhm!" She moaned, wrapping her legs tightly over the man's shoulders.
Eve stepped back in horror. So it was true. Everything that Grace had told her was true. She thought, her heart hammering against her chest loudly, making her deaf to the noise of the torrential rain. It felt like her last bridge had crumbled down, raising the dust of regret in its wake. She turned around, grabbing the balcony railing in a hurry.
"Who's there?!" Grace Tarleton called, her shrill voice reaching out to her.
But Eve was already out of the building. She landed on the ground with a soft thump. Lifting her skirt as she readied herself to make the run.
"Eve!" A familiar voice called her from above. Eve looked up. A disheveled Hugh Tarleton stood there, leaning against the railing, his eyes wide in shock as he extended a hand towards her.
"Fuck you," Eve muttered under her breath, glaring at the older Tarleton before she took off towards the boundary walls.
"Wait!" The young lord's voice echoed through the garden as she climbed the wall, looking back one last time at the mansion. "Eve!"
The path out of the village was familiar. The forest towered on either side of the narrow path that led her to god only knows where. The rain slowly died out, leaving the road muddy and full of potholes. As she ran, she felt someone's eyes on her, following her even as she picked up her pace. And hence, she didn't stop.
Eve kept running until her legs were wobbly and she was sure she was far away from the village. She had followed many paths and taken blind turns, hoping that the traveler's markers on the tree trunks would lead her somewhere safe. And so when she found a lone well-lit building by the road, she sighed in relief.
"Emilya's Lodge," She read aloud, narrowing her eyes at the huge board that hung on the mast of the building.
She could hear loud sounds of laughter and cheer from inside. A few horses were tied inside a makeshift tent to the right side of the building and a lone black carriage was parked outside it. She narrowed her eyes at the box.
It looked like no ordinary coach. The edges of the carriage were rimmed with golden intricate leaves and the windows were draped with dark heavy curtains from inside. Above its door was a gold crescent with a long sword thrusting through it- an insignia of some sort.
It was a far cry from the tiny two-seater carriages that she had seen in her village- a privilege only enjoyed by the Tarletons and the Cavanoughs. The edge of her lips turned down into a frown at the names. She climbed the steps to the lodge, her eyes still glued to the lone carriage by the building.
As she pushed opened the door to the place, the wood creaked, setting in a sudden eerie silence in the room.