My father stopped again and nodded his head towards me to indicate he had something else to say.
"We've interrogated the kitchen staff and some of the other maids already. She had worked with the head chef to buy the ingredients for your part of the manor from a vendor of lower quality goods and then they embezzled the funds. The maids had said that much of your jewelry had gone missing and a few of them knew that Lizabeth had been taking and reselling them. Those that found out were eventually bribed so they wouldn't speak about it. She never touched your dresses, probably because it would be harder to hide their disappearance. She's been interrogated on her reasons for why but she's demanded that she speak to me or you, insisting she won't say anything to anyone else."
"If she simply bought lower quality goods then why were my meals so simple and tiny? And didn't the maids have smaller meals as well?"
"… She hasn't told us why but all of your meals were specifically arranged by her until the day you collapsed from it. The other maids of the north wing had less food and it wasn't as good but it also wasn't bad enough for any of them to complain. They were of the belief that it was simply because the budget to the north wing of the manor had been reduced thanks to your… status… and treatment within the family."
He seemed almost apologetic with his words. Once again father, too little, too late.
"This is all we've uncovered so far so you'll be learning the remainder of it with us."
He waves his hand to indicate that it's time we continue on. I don't want to hesitate any longer either. The sooner I can get this over with, the sooner I'll be able to process my emotions and eventually move on.
We found ourselves standing in front of one of the cells at the very back of this floor. The conditions in it were worse than many of the others, with iron shackles and chains attached to the back wall, barely enough room to lay out when you curl up, and a small bucket situated in the corner for… purposes. I didn't want to think too hard on it.
Lizabeth herself was in a state of disarray. Her hair was a tangled mess and her clothes were dirty with sweat, grime, and a bit of blood. It appears as if she's had to suffer through some of the same treatment as I did.
"Lizabeth I've come at your insistence. Will you speak to me about the truth of my daughter's treatment?"
There was an obvious look of contempt on her face as she glared at my father.
"There was a time when I loved you as a woman loves a man. I found your stoic nature and steadfastness appealing, wanting to see if your expressions would change in bed."
I'm already starting to regret coming here. This isn't what I expected, nor wanted, to hear.
"That's not why I'm here Lizabeth. I asked you for the reasons behind my daughter's treatment."
"This is part of it, oh great Duke Arkesh. I had loved you in the past but when you married the Lady of House Brighton I slowly gave up on that love. I thought it was futile to try to rise above my station to catch your attention. It was difficult to do, being so close to you all the time as a servant that was well respected, but eventually I managed it. That was until Marisilea was born of course."
"So her mistreatment was because you loved me? That's a twisted purpose."
"No, not at all. You asked about her treatment, not any mistreatment. I didn't mistreat her and I do actually love the young lady of course. I'm not such a cruel monster as to think taking out my disappointment in losing your love on her was worthwhile. When I noticed that you and your wife were at odds over her birth I thought I had an opportunity to place myself favorably in your eyes while caring for the girl. I mentioned how I worked hard for her and tried to appeal to your concern about her well-being by placing my concern for her to the forefront. I saw how you struggled with your role as a father and her position as a firstborn daughter. I'm no fool."
"You had hope I'd eventually see your value and grow to love you because you cared for my daughter?"
She let out a dry chuckle at his words, stepping back and looking a bit forlorn.
"Maybe I was a fool. I should have recognized that duty and the Duchy would be more important to you than your own family. Your relationships with your wife and daughter were a good indication of how you'd act when given a choice."
She had one thing right at least. I can't say I disagree with her on this. I avoided looking at my father after her words because I didn't want to see any regret in his expression. The less I sympathize with him the easier I could move on I think.
Seeing my father hesitating to answer she decided to press forward.
"I wanted to show you that I could care for your daughter just as well as Elaina. I believed that you would see that I deserved your care and affection just as much as her and I hoped that maybe I could earn a little love from Marisilea as well. She was a cute child and we shared a similar fate. Relegated to a little used part of the manor and ignored. Well, I wasn't completely ignored. But I deserved that attention while she was only a child still."
"Marisilea does love you."
"Does she know where I am? Has she asked about me?"
She seemed impatient, suddenly grabbing the bars of her cell and looking at my father with a fanaticism I've not seen before.
"She came to me this morning to inquire about your whereabouts. She was distraught that I had 'reassigned' you to another location."
She spit on the ground as he finished his sentence.
"If all she did was come to your office to ask about me then she doesn't care about me. Not really."
Is this what she thinks of me? I loved her like a mother. I thought I did.
"She was in tears Lizabeth."
"Tears? Over me? She strived for your love, broke her body for it, but my affection was never enough for her. I raised her like my own daughter, and what does she want? You, Elaina, and recognition for being a Mage. She's ungrateful for all the effort I put into her upbringing. I deserve more than just a few tears."
"She praised you constantly to the other servants and you were the first person she looked for when she woke up this morning."
"So? I lived in this manor with her, forgotten about by the world. I raised her daily and ensured she was happy. I changed her diapers while you and Elaina fought about why you can't love the girl. I gave up on love with a man and decided that if I can't have that then at a minimum I deserved the love of a daughter. The least she could do was come down here herself and demand my release. If she can't convince you of that, then she should spend her time in the cell with me, someone who actually loves her."
"She is still my daughter Lizabeth. She will eventually be given a position fitting of her status. Punishing her the way you did isn't how one should show their love either."
"And your method is better? Her punishments were done to help her. Do you think she would be as smart as she is if not for me? As strong-willed? As tough and 'impassive' like you want her to be? NO! Everything that she is she owes to me. I taught her manners. I taught her dance and etiquette. I taught her history, mathematics, language, and more. She owes EVERYTHING to me! And I'm the only one that has showed her love!"
I… I don't want to believe her but what she says hurts me and rings true at the same time. Isn't who I am all thanks to her? She did show me kindness and cared for me for years without hurting me. Was it true that even her punishments were done out of love?
"What about all the jewelry and money you took from the house? From Marisilea? Is that another way to show your love?"
"Is it wrong for me to want to eat better, live better, and have something that could make me happy? She had no reason or place she could use that jewelry and I was owed something more for being ignored with her. I couldn't earn your love, I couldn't earn Marisilea's love, so what's wrong about getting a few trinkets and coins?"
"You starved her. You used the food to fill your pockets while my daughter nearly starved to death."
"Do you think I wanted her to die? I kept trying to tell you about it so you'd come to see us both. Besides, it would have benefited you if she did pass on. You could write off your firstborn daughter's death as a tragedy and blame it on her willfulness. You'd earn the sympathy of the nobles at court while ridding yourself of someone you viewed as a curse. You didn't care then so why do you care now?"
"Did… did you do it to get my attention?"
"I did it for both my sake and Marisilea's. I thought that if she was starved, both for food and affection, maybe you'd start paying more attention to both of us. Even then you proved how foolish I was to think you cared."
I can't listen to this anymore. I'm torn between her words containing a truth I've known about for years and my anger at the methods she used to achieve what she wanted. I tapped Sir Perrin on the shoulder to indicate that I needed to go.
He turned to my father and passed the same gesture on.
"I'll return soon Lizabeth as I still need to decide your punishment."
As we turned to leave I heard her call out.
"Is that you m'lady? Did you come here to see me?"
There was a strain in her voice that I've not heard before. I don't want to listen to her. It hurt so much but I kept walking as fast as I could. Her shouts followed me down the pathways.
"I know that's you! I loved you and raised you, do you think I couldn't tell! Please come back and have them release me! If you can't do that much, then you could come and stay with me here! I loved you! I love you now more than anyone else here and I don't deserve this!"
My throat finally broke free of the efforts I was exhausting in keeping my sobs contained. I started to run through the prison as quickly as I could, bouncing off the corners and struggling to keep my bearings as the tears continued to make my vision hazy.
Perhaps this is what I truly deserve, being a firstborn daughter. Maybe the curse is meant for the daughter herself and not the family as a whole.
I don't know when I came out of the dungeons but I finally collapsed in a hallway of the manor, tearing at the straps of the leather cuirass on my chest so I could remove it and pull in deeper breaths. Everything felt like it was constricting around my chest and neck. I pounded my fists into the hard, carpet covered, wooden floor until they hurt. When that wasn't enough I pushed my head down onto the carpet hoping to bury it deep enough to avoid looking at the world around me.
Exhausted and unwilling to move, I laid there curled up into a ball with my head pressed into the carpet and staring at my knees.
At some point a pair of arms wrapped around me as I lay there, holding me and stroking my back. There was a lullaby sung by a feminine voice. A song that sounded familiar to me but from a memory too old to be clear.
Gathering my courage I turned my head to see my mother sitting on the floor next to me, tears in her own eyes.
"I'm sorry Mari. I'm sorry."
"No mother. I don't want to hear that; I don't want you to say that. You don't get to say that now."
I wanted to push her away. I wanted her to stay and comfort me. But do I deserve it?