"That is ridiculous. I would not listen to any more yarn, take me to him," Isadora's eyes bulged as she took her time to examine each word she had spoken of. She did not imply to make it so loud and rude.
Elvis on the other hand wasn't ready to take heed to whatever she wanted, "His lordship is not in his right state of mind today and has warned us not to take anyone to him."
By the mention of that Isadora straightened her full curly long hair so that it looked like it was sifted to the back preventing any strand from hanging on her face, she cleared her voice with a little curve on her lips, "His lordship dwells on the floor above this, and no one is allowed in there, yes?"
Something collided hard with Elvis as he tried to foretell whatever the princess had in mind, but he remained quiet wanting to hear should there be more she would love to say.
"I am not sleepy right now and I would go into the three rooms that he mayhaps is, condemn Edward for my knowledge," she said, not taking a glance at him as her eyes darted up and down the walls, calculating how many minutes it remained for the three candles not far from where she was to burn down. She had always been afraid of the dark. Back in the palace, lights were always made to be put on in her chamber even while she sleeps.
"You would not," said Elvis in a warning tone, "no unauthorised person is allowed to go in there without permission."
"Then take me to him, I would not mind should I spend the whole night looking for the way to his exact cubicle to seek his approval, because I know so well that the little girl shall be hung should I delay any further," said Isadora.
Isadora stood quietly, staring at him and trying to examine his reaction, trying to calculate how long it would take for him to think of what to do and reply to her. It took exactly thirty seconds before he replied, "If it is true you insist but you shall take the censure."
"Would gladly," said Isadora as she put on a fake smile which Elvis apparently could understand and note as being sarcastic.
Elvis slowly closed his chamber's door and led the way.
The dual passed through the corridor in which the little and Cole had passed the other time before taking a left turn.
There were a few opened doors on the right-hand side of the corridors, the inner was dark and they looked like they were shortcuts to another side of the castle.
Despite the pain that was throbbing beneath her toes, Isadora kept walking, but after a while of getting fed up walking, she slowed down her pace and stopped abruptly, her hands holding firmly at her laps as she bent forward, "This is heading nowhere to the upper floor, is it?" Her eyes looked tired as though they would fall if she didn't blink in a splitting second right now, but she took the opportunity of Elvis' silence to blink a couple of times, "Do not tell me you are playing games with me, if you plan to tire me o-"
Elvis cut her short, darkly, "You do not mean to be outspoken out there when you are this weak, do you?"
"And do not play games with me. There," she pointed to a burning flame coming from a small corner where there were two small chairs, "There..." she continued grimly, "We sit. " When she was sure that he wouldn't want to agree to her again, she gave a stupid grin, "Do not insist, please."
Not giving a glance at her, Elvis kept on walking which made Isadora frown as she glared at his back before looking at the two chairs and the burning firewoods. There was something she saw that she wanted to inspect, but as soon as it dawned on her that she might be the only one walking alone in the dark and cold corridor, she forgot whatever it was and walked carelessly to catch up with him.
After a few seconds, they were heading up to the upper room. As they passed the stairs, a lady who looked like she was about three years older than Isadora passed through them heading downwards.
The lady was in a long blue dress that had a beautiful tight corset on her waist. Her face was pudgy as that of a small ball while her enlarged eyes held that of disgust or boredom, mayhaps the both as she grunted.
For some time, the image of her flowery eyes fluttered on Isadora's face, she was wondering why she looked so young and exquisite. She was even bequeathed with the perfect body every maiden would grow green eyes for and every gent would swoon over. She thought for a moment should the maiden be younger than her but someone as busty and round as her couldn't be of the same age she was.
They had gotten to a door before Isadora jotted out of her reverie, forcing herself not to utter the words she wanted to but it flew out of her mouth unexpectedly, "And she, the maiden we came across, who is she?"
"Used to be his lordship's favourite."
"Of course," she breathed out as the door opened.
Elvis led her to the room and Isadora followed. Her gaze drove through the chamber at once only to be caught off guard. There was no light. No candlelight. Nothing to be considered bright. The room appeared colder than the corridors they trotted past. But there was something refreshing and warming. The thick scent of flowers rubbed down her nose as she breathed in. She loved the flowers but had never taken interest in knowing them so she couldn't tell what kind of flowers she had perceived.
They walked slowly into the room as Isadora tightened the space between Elvis and her, scared that something might go wrong or she might stumble and fall in the process of walking to wherever she had no idea. At the moment, it was only wise to stick to him and swallow every curiosity in her.
The room couldn't be a man's room. Never had he heard of any man having pleasure with the so-called scent of flowers or even growing them, lest, having them beautifying the room's atmosphere.
She was dying to see those flowers. Dying to know if she could save the little girl. Dying to get into her chamber and secretly treat her wound. Not like she could medically do so, but there were procedures Oswald had thought her. How much she missed him.
"My Lord, Lady Maxwell demand your approval on adopting the young witch slave," said Elvis, his voice a bit shaky.
As if the loads on her chest had suddenly disappeared, Isadora found the need to confirm, "Yes, my Lord." She hesitated, "I want to save the poor girl from being slain, should there be anything I can do to prevent that, I shall be honoured to do so if it is not beyond my control."
"The lady talks too much, I never would have known." Isadora's eyes widened. She never thought the person or the man she was legally sold to or perhaps as they rumoured, married to was so close to her. His voice was too young, and he couldn't...he just couldn't be the person her father had talked about. He couldn't be the old man her father had joked about or pretended to tell tales about.
Did she talk too much? Or didn't she put some etiquette in? She wouldn't be too amazed at that though as she never passed the etiquette tests.
"I... I am sorry. I ..."
"Do serve the other mistresses for a week," she heard him say.
"What?!" Her eyes beamed with disgust. The most annoying one she could ever pull out involuntarily, "did I hear you say?"
"The lady must have troubled you to make you disregard my rules, Elvis." She heard the voice say again, talking to Elvis as if she wasn't even among.
"But...wait...that is disrespectful! Wait...why would you say that, my Lord? I...I am a princess."
"A disowned princess," the voice addressed. It was cold and sinister. "The first who did not meet the requirement on the very first day."
What?!
Isadora couldn't believe what he was saying but before she could say anything anymore, Elvis had already held her arms and pulled her slowly out of the room that she could barely know when.
"That is not right. Some slaves and servants could do that, yes? Elvis?" Her fists boiling, "Why me?"