- - -
An old man sat in his mansion, thinking about life.
He had done well. One of his daughters may be dead, but the other was happily married to a baron, and his granddaughter would be the next baroness. Yes, he'd made sure of that. His family would finally be noble, thanks to his hard work and powerful friends.
"Bring me some tea, please."
His maid, a middle-aged woman, had been with him for a decade and a half, but he could never remember her name. Still, she was efficient, quickly going and coming back with a cup of tea. He took a sip and continued his musing.
He had made many enemies and ruined countless lives to get here. Many wanted him dead, and they did come close. He lived life on the edge, and it paid off. He was satisfied.
Why was he thinking about such things? Did he, perhaps, instinctively know? By the time he realized, it was too late.
His chest throbbed in pain, and the last thing he saw was the woman whose name he did not know. The cup fell from his hand, shattering, and the world faded.
- - -
"My lady, Ratched is dead."
I smiled, slowly drumming a finger on the desk. In my dimly lit room, I couldn't see Mikhail's features, but he could likely sense my excitement.
"Excellent. How?"
"A heart attack, it seems. A maid last saw him when she brought him tea and he told her to leave him for a while. The same maid found him dead after a few hours."
"Anything suspicious? The maid, the tea?'
"The maid began working for him shortly after Lady Catherine's accident, and she washed out the teacup. Her excuse was that it had clearly been a natural death."
There were drugs that could've induced the heart attack, and the timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. So Baron Bryant had finally decided to strike.
"Take the maid and launch a full investigation in secret, but don't distract any forces. The time has come. Start carrying out the plan."
"Yes, my lady."
I doubted my luck with the maid, but the plan would proceed. With the first moment Catherine emerged from whatever dirthole she was hiding in, she would be under surveillance, until she was safely out of my way. After nearly a decade of preparations, there was no way she could win. Ah, I almost pitied her.
It wouldn't be long now.
- - -
Once upon a time, in a lovely little village, there lived a sweet girl named Cat.
She had been in an accident as a baby, and was taken to an orphanage. A kind man adopted her and raised her to be good and compassionate to all, including commoners. Little did they know, she was the lost daughter of a baron, and would be reunited with her father at last when she was fifteen and brought back into high society.
It sounded like a fairytale, but it was what would be told to everyone.
"It's time, Cat. After so many years, everything I've gone through for you…my lady. Make me proud, and tell your father how well I've done."
That was what Uncle had said to her this morning, before letting her go outside for the first time in forever. She couldn't stop smiling as she strode along the street, humming. Uncle had told her it was acceptable, to show how energetic she was.
"G-good morning!"
She tried to greet everyone she could. It was somewhat terrifying, to be near so many people, more than she'd ever seen her whole life. But Uncle had told her they would say they knew her, so she might as well try to make that true. Lying was bad, Uncle had made sure she remembered that.
Uncle owned a bookstore, but he never let her into it when there were customers, to protect her. She studied in the flat above, working as hard as she could to not upset Uncle, though it was difficult sometimes when he was upset.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection off of a store's window without recognizing herself and stopped walking for a second. She was dressed in her best clothes, bought for the occasion. Her hair was golden blonde and her eyes were sparkling green, changed only a day ago. She wasn't used to it yet and studied what was apparently her real appearance curiously.
"Ack! I'm so sorry!"
She walked right into someone and fell down. He kept going, and she was glad she didn't bother him. If Uncle knew, he might get in a bad mood again. It was all her fault when he was upset, because she wasn't good enough. Already, she'd made a mistake, even though Uncle had told her repeatedly that vanity was no good to get to where she needed to go.
She was afraid of what would happen when she got back, but the even greater fear of disappointing Uncle made her get up and carry on.
Glancing at the clock tower in the distance, she hurried. She got to the spot Uncle told her to just as the clock began to toll eleven. Right on time.
Like in a play, the people on the street moved to the sides, except for a little boy in the middle, oblivious. A carriage came charging, and the boy looked up, too scared to move. It was going to run him over!
The selfless heroine leapt into the way, standing in front of the boy with her arms spread and blocking the carriage. Her heart was going to jump out of her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut, but she trusted what Uncle had told her. The carriage screeched to a stop.
"What were you thinking?!"
The coachman yelled angrily. The girl panted, heart still pounding. The carriage door opened, and a middle-aged man stepped out. He rushed to her side.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head and swallowed, preparing to perfectly recite her lines.
"N-no, I'm fine. I saw the poor boy standing there and I had to do something. I'm an orphan, and for a while no one looked after me or cared if I died, so he reminded me of myself."
The man blinked and took her hands.
"You look awfully like how my daughter would've… You're an orphan, you say? How?"
"I don't know. The orphanage found me in the woods near Newfield County, about fourteen years ago. They thought I'd been in an accident of sorts, from my injuries."
The man, her father, looked at her, his eyes wide. Then, he hugged her, though rather stiffly.
"Oh, Catherine… my dear daughter… I thought I'd never see you again!"
She awkwardly patted him on the back, feeling no particular emotions but doing her best to look surprised and happy. She would carry out Uncle's instructions, as usual.
"Remember, you have to listen to your father like you would listen to me."
As long as it pleased Uncle. He would be nice, and they would both be happy. He was all she had, and she must do everything in her power to repay his kindness. She may not know exactly what was going on, but she knew Uncle wanted the best for her.
She would do as this unknown father wanted, because it was what Uncle wanted. If she acted her part properly, perhaps they would be proud of her. She'd like that.
So it began.