“I think I’ve found a loophole for your... issue.”
“You did?” I jumped to my feet, racing over to her, all thoughts of my kidnapper pushed to the side. “What is it?”
Fran looped her arm through mine and drew me out of the garden. “Now don’t get too excited. I need to look up one more thing to be sure. Don’t want to get your hopes up for no reason. It’s almost dinner time, let’s back to your rooms.”
“Blackthorn’s rooms.”
Fran hummed, not arguing with me. “I’m surprised the master showed you this garden.”
I peered over at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
Fran’s eyes slid to me before watching the walls we passed by. “It’s not really my place to say.”
“But...” I prompted, giving her arm an encouraging squeeze.
“But,” she started, her lips pursing as if struggling with what she had to say, “the master has taken more interest in you than he has in anyone in decades.”
I licked my lips, trying to sound nonchalant as I asked, “Has he brought anyone else to the castle before?”
“Not outside of servants, no. At least, not since he locked the castle down.” Her lips twitched on one side. “You’re different. Special.”
I snorted.
Fran brought us to a stop outside of Blackthorn’s bedroom. “You don’t think so?”
I dropped her arm, wrapping my own around my middle. “Not really.” I shrugged. “I just did what any decent person would have done.”
Fran took my hands in hers. “If that were true,” she scoffed, “then someone would have helped the master days before you came along. People are more selfish than you give them credit for. The master knew that and knew he had found someone special when you put yourself at risk to save him.”
My face burned with embarrassment. All this praise and attention made me uncomfortable. I didn’t understand why they were making such a fuss. I’d always felt this overwhelming need to help others. My inability to just let someone suffer was what had gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion. I’d always found it as one of my biggest faults, not something to be proud of certainly.
“What does any of this have to do with the garden?” I deflected, removing my hands from hers as I opened the door to the bedroom.
Thankfully, Blackthorn was nowhere to be found. I didn’t know how I would face him come dinner time after what had just happened. Or with the newfound knowledge of what I would have to do to return to the factory.
A quick glance out the window told me dinner time was soon, so I headed toward the closet, pulling at the strings of my dress as I went.
Fran followed me in, helping me remove my dress without being asked. “That garden belonged to the last mistress.”
I tripped over the material of the dress trying to step out of it. Gripping on to the nearby shelf, I gaped at her. “Last mistress?”
Fran shook out the dress, laying it over the nearby cushioned bench. “The master wasn’t always so secretive, protective. He... I think he misses her or what they could have had and has been looking for someone to prove to him that all is not lost. Even after... well...” Fran smiled sadly at me. “You certainly have proved you’re someone worth trusting at least.”
I winced as she turned her back, pulling a golden gown from its hanger.
Guilt ate at me while I let her help me into the gown, tying up the back. I realized that I wouldn’t only be betraying Blackthorn, but all of them.
I swallowed down the bile that threaten to come up and turned giving her a weak smile. “I don’t know about that. You hardly know me. I could be plotting to kill you all in your sleep.”
Fran looked me over and then threw her head back and laughed. “Sure, mistress, you keep telling yourself that.”
Frowning, I placed my hands on my hips. “I could so.”
Fran waved a hand in front of her face as she sucked in deep breaths. “Mistress, no offense,” she gasped, “but I don’t think you would smack a mosquito if it were biting you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the wall. “I’ve smacked a mosquito before.”
“In any case,” Fran continued, not acknowledging my comment. “I’m glad you are here. He’s much happier than when he was chasing after that witch.”
