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Chapter 11 - Marshvale

The carriage moved slowly along the winding dirt road, each bump and jolt reverberating through its wooden frame. Leila's eyelids drooped heavily. The exhaustion from last night was finally catching up with her. She could hardly remember the last time she had a good night's sleep. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the stones was almost soothing, lulling her into a state of half consciousness.

On the other side of the carriage, Jack had closed his eyes, his expression relaxed but it was unclear whether he was truly asleep or merely resting his eyes.

"When will we arrive?" Leila yawned, stretching her arms above her head and not actually expecting an answer.

"Soon," came Jack's short reply.

The word hung in the air, a promise that seemed distant and hazy. Silence fell between them once more...

After a few minutes, Leila broke the silence. "So what is it like in Marshvale?" she asked casually.

They had been on the road for hours, and the monotony of the journey was beginning to get to her.

Jack opened one eye, peering at her with a hint of curiosity. "Peaceful and quiet," he said, his tone measured. "Don't be nervous. You will fit in perfectly well."

In truth, Leila wasn't particularly worried about fitting in. She never quite fitted in anywhere anyway.

"I have a family," Jack began, a warm smile spreading across his face. "A beautiful wife and three children, all girls." His tone was cheerful, filled with pride as he spoke of his loved ones. "The second one is a girl about your age."

As he continued to share stories, Leila could almost picture the scene he was painting, a cozy home filled with laughter and the sweet aroma of dinner wafting through the air. From everything he said, it seemed like they were a small happy perfect family.

Leila paid close attention, making a mental note of Jack's daughters' personalities and preferences.

According to Jack, the eldest, Jane was married and had moved away, though she visited her family from time to time. The middle child, Juliana was around Leila's age, strikingly beautiful and kind, resembling her mother, Helen. The youngest, Elsie, was a lively and mischievous little girl.

But as Leila listened to Jack's idyllic descriptions, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't quite right. His family seemed... too perfect. Too flawless. Too rehearsed.

Her curiosity was piqued, and she found herself wondering if there was more to the story than Jack was letting on. Were there secrets lurking beneath the surface of this seemingly perfect family?

'Maybe it won't be that bad after all,' her lips curled up.

Leila had lost all sense of time as she closed her eyes, surrendering herself to a deep dreamless sleep. The rhythmic clattering of the carriage wheels had lulled her into a peaceful slumber, but that tranquility was abruptly shattered.

With a sudden jolt, the carriage came to a halt causing her to bang her head against the hard wooden wall. Startled, she let out a surprised yelp, the sound echoing in the confined space.

As she rubbed her sore forehead, she glanced over at Jack who was watching her with a teasing smile. "We are here," he announced.

Jack swung open the door of the carriage, and Leila scrambled to follow him. As she stepped down onto the ground, the sight that greeted her was nothing short of breathtaking. Before her stood an enormous mansion, its grandeur towering over her.

The intricate architecture, with its ornate details and expansive gardens, took her breath away. She marveled at the sheer size of the building, its walls adorned with ivy and its windows gleaming like jewels under the late afternoon sun.

"Come on, let's go inside," Jack urged, his voice filled with a sense of eager anticipation. Leila fell in step behind him. The coachman, a sturdy man with a kind smile, stepped forward to assist them, expertly carrying their bags into the mansion as they crossed the threshold.

As they entered, the grand foyer opened up before them, revealing high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and a magnificent chandelier that sparkled like a thousand stars. The air was filled with the faint scent of polished wood and fresh flowers, creating an inviting atmosphere.

At that moment a tall middle-aged man appeared, impeccably dressed in a formal butler uniform. With a swift, graceful bow, he addressed Jack with a respectful tone. "Welcome back, my lord."

However his gaze quickly shifted away, dismissing Leila entirely as if she were merely a shadow in the room.

Elliot the butler, hurried over to assist Jack in removing his coat, his efficiency a testament to years of experience. "Elliot, this is Leila, and she will be staying with us from now on," Jack introduced her. "Leila, this is our butler, Elliot. You can go to him if you need help with anything."

As Elliot placed Jack's coat on the hanger with meticulous care, he finally turned his attention to Leila. His demeanor shifted slightly, but not in a welcoming way. She noticed the way his eyes swept over her, taking in her shabby dress and worn-out shoes. It was a look she was all too familiar with: a blend of disdain and contempt.

"Welcome, Miss," he said reluctantly, his tone cool and distant.

"Where is everyone else?" Jack inquired, his brow furrowing slightly with concern.

Elliot, maintaining his composed demeanor, replied, "Lady Helen has gone out to meet with Lady Bianca and is expected to return shortly. The youngest miss is currently in her room, fast asleep." He spoke, his voice steady and respectful.

"And what about Juliana?" Jack pressed, his tone tinged with a hint of worry.

Elliot's expression remained unchanged, though a flicker of something, perhaps concern crossed his features. "Lady Juliana's whereabouts are currently unknown. She left a few hours ago without disclosing her destination."

Jack let out an almost inaudible sigh, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in his demeanor. He turned to Leila, who was gazing around the opulent foyer, her eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. The intricate details of the mansion captivated her, from the grand staircase spiraling upwards to the exquisite artwork that adorned the walls.

"Elliot will help you carry your bags and show you to your room, where you can freshen up," Jack said, his voice warm yet practical.

"Follow me, Miss Leila," Elliot instructed, his tone professional yet lacking warmth and she obediently obliged.

As they walked, Leila's gaze was drawn to the portraits adorning the walls. Each frame depicted a family of five, all smiles and laughter, exuding a sense of joy and togetherness. It was clear that this was Jack's family.

However, as she moved further along, a different feeling washed over her. Though their smiles remained in place, there was an unmistakable sense of distance in their expressions. The warmth that should have illuminated their faces seemed muted, their joy appearing less vibrant than it first seemed.

Leila felt a slight raise of her eyebrow, her curiosity ignited. Something was amiss within this family, a feeling she couldn't shake off, yet she decided to maintain an air of ignorance, choosing to act as if everything was perfectly normal.

As they walked through the opulent halls, they passed two maids who exchanged glances and whispered conspiratorially, their voices loud enough for her to catch every word. It was clear they wanted her to overhear.

"Look at her clothes so worn and tattered. She's so fortunate that Lady Helen has taken her in, even if she is the daughter of a prostitute," one maid scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain.

"I heard her mother took her own life with a knife because of her. She brings nothing but bad luck," the other replied, shaking her head in disapproval.

News traveled fast, doesn't it? Leila was stunned. Elliot pretended as if he didn't hear anything but the corner of his lips curled up as if mocking her. She scoffed and casted a glance at the maids who didn't expect her to look back, baffled.

They quickly looked down and continued to do what they were doing before. When they were finally out of sight, the two maids looked at each other, seeing the fear dancing in each other's eyes.

What was that?!

Elliot finally stopped by a certain room and pushed the door open. "This is your room."

Without Jack around, he dropped all the pretence, threw her bags onto the floor and stormed out. Leila seemed to have heard him mutter, 'filthy peasant' under his breath but her expression remained unfazed, instead she began to admire the room's interior.

The room was luxurious and spacious. In the center of the room, a plush king-sized bed draped in luxurious linens.

Adjacent to the bed, an elegant set of upholstered armchairs and a cozy settee created a perfect nook for relaxation, while a rich area rug, woven with intricate designs, added warmth to the polished hardwood floor.

On the opposite wall, a writing desk crafted from dark mahogany bore a delicate vase filled with fresh flowers, bringing a touch of nature indoors.

The en-suite bathroom, visible through an elegant archway, was a sanctuary of luxury in itself. A freestanding soaking tub, surrounded by candles, beckoned for leisurely baths.

It was a far cry from her small empty room in Brokley. Picking up her bags, she unpacked her things and methodically arranged her clothes in the closet, folding each piece with care, as if this small act could help her regain some control over her life.

Among her things, she cautiously retrieved a hidden compartment within her clothing, revealing a knife. But this was no ordinary bladet. This knife had been the instrument of her mother's tragic end.

Leila examined the knife closely, her fingers tracing the smooth cold metal. The blade glistened under the dim light, devoid of any remnants of the horror it had witnessed. It was almost beautiful in its starkness, a chilling contrast to the memories it invoked.

After a moment of reflection, she slipped it beneath the pillow of her bed.

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