Susie sat inside the carriage while her heart thumped feeling that something bad would happen. She kept moving in her place.
"What happened?" Bernat asked, noticing her discomfort.
"Nothing," she shrugged him. "Go and ask if Barbara tracked us?" she said, remembering that Barbara didn't follow them and went to search for something.
Bernat looked from the window. "Barry is Barbara in the carriage?" he asked one of the knights accompanying them.
"No, I do not see the carriage anywhere," Barry responded after a while.
Susie's heart trembled with anxiety. "Where is Aurora? She was in the carriage following us just a moment ago."
"Lady Aurora followed Lady Barbara after a while from our departure."
The earth beneath Susie moved, she held her chest as her breaths hitched. "I know it. Something bad had occurred. I have been feeling this way since our departure," she said hysterically, standing up. "Stop the carriage; I need to go after my daughter."
"Susie, calm down," her husband said as he shook her body. "Nothing will happen to Aurora, so calm down."
"But—"
"No but, I will order our knights to look for them," he said, helping her sit while rubbing her hands with his.
Susie nodded and gazed out of the carriage window. She observed the towering trees that stood along the roadside, their branches swaying in the wind with only a few leaves clung to them. Below, the ground was adorned with a carpet of dried, brown leaves, hinting at the melancholy of autumn. The overall scene outside seemed to exude a sense of somberness and dreariness, making her remember the dangerous events that happened with Aurora, in the last few weeks.
One time, as she was strolling in the garden, a vase fell from the balcony missing her by a few steps. When the maids told her, she nearly fainted. Priscilla, her daughter's personal maid informed her of seeing Barbara on the balcony.
Susie didn't believe her words. However, when Aurora stepped on a broken glass, doubt rose in her mind as the one who broke the cup was Barbara, who said the glass fell from her, then Aurora ran toward her before she could warn her.
Another incident, Susie had witnessed with her eyes. Her daughter fell from the stairs while Barbara stood upstairs watching. It was good that Priscilla had saved Aurora while she took the fall, injuring her head and hand.
Perhaps, she was paranoid and overprotective of her daughter after finding her after years of missing, but three bad incidents involving Aurora while Barbara was at the centre would mean something, wouldn't it?
She couldn't help but remember the Count's words. Perhaps Barbara was feeling neglected and wanted some knowledge. Time went slowly. Susie kept moving her legs, feeling the carriage's small space become smaller.
"Milord, we found Lady Barbara fainted in the forest, but there are no tracks on Lady Aurora's place."
Susie's heart shook, confirming her assumptions earlier. She was to be blamed for not protecting her daughter. 'Aurora!' she murmured, hoping that she was safe as she couldn't lose her like before.
***
"Lady Barbara, drink some water," Conner said, handing her a container.
Barbara took the jug with shaky hands. Her head reviewed the scene before she fainted. "Did you find Aurora?" she asked. Her voice trembled and her lips parched.
"The knights are still searching for the men you described," Conner replied.
Barbara kept sitting. The guilt for being the reason behind Aurora's kidnapping burst making her chest hurt. Her eyes stung as tears formed inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Marquis, Madam."
Hearing a knight calling her parent, she stood up, running to her mother, wanting to throw herself in her embrace, taking all the feelings she went through. "Mother—" she called, stretching her hands, but she was cast aside.
"Where is Aurora? Tell me! What did you do to her?" her mother screamed at her face. Her eyes were filled with hatred.
"I—I," Barbara stuttered, not believing what was going on.
"Is it a plan you did to drag Aurora here? Tell me where you put her," her mother begged, shaking her body.
"Susie, SUSIE, STOP!" her father grabbed her mother who burst into crying.
Barbara turned around and walked away aimlessly, signalling Conner who went after her to stop. She strode deeper into the forest. Her right foot caught on a protruding branch, causing her to stumble and finally collapse to the ground. The impact left her palms and knees stinging, but in the midst of her distress, the pain seemed distant and insignificant. She sank to the ground, her tears flowing, soaking the earth beneath her, leaving a trail of damp soil.
"Why? Why?" she kept repeating with a bitter voice. "Why did they change? I am still their daughter, am I not?"
For eighteen years, she had been a part of their lives. Then, suddenly, they seemed to have forgotten all about their shared experiences and instead accused her of kidnapping their real daughter, whom they had only known for two months.
She initially hoped that the change in her life would eventually fade away once she came to terms with her new circumstances. She keenly observed her mother's unwavering affection, excessive protectiveness, and remarkable kindness towards Aurora, which left her feeling deeply wounded. However, as time passed, she gradually adapted to feeling overlooked and sidelined, and the intensity of her pain diminished considerably. Despite this, her mother's words unexpectedly reopened the emotional wounds in her heart.
Barbara wiped her tears and stood up, deciding to be as far from Aurora as much as she could if Aurora didn't paste to her like a tail. Moreover, she would accept that her position in her parent's hearts had changed. She was no different from any worker in the house.
Hearing a flow of water, she went between the shrubs and the trees, arriving at a hillside, she walked to its border. Looking at the spring beneath her, she thought of her childhood memories.
"I, Barbara Rey--" but upon noticing that she didn't know her identity she stopped. "I Barbara, promise myself not to cry about anyone else," she said, closing her eyes, wiping the tears beaming in the tips of her eyes.
A stepping sound echoed nearly when she turned around...