"My lady, who's Judy?"
"…What?" Time seemed to slow down for Adria.
"Oh, it's just that-" Lucie stared at her own reflection on the floor, not wanting to meet her lady's eyes. "When you fell asleep in the bath last time, you said 'Judy?' and I thought that was a mistake of sorts."
Her hands clenched tightly. "But when I woke you up today, I heard you mumbling 'see you later, Judy' in your sleep, my lady."
Shivers crawled underneath Adria's skin. If Lucie had raised her head, she would have seen just how nervous she looked.
'Calm down, Adria. Just keep quiet. Don't let this get to your head.'
'She doesn't know anything. I wasn't caught. Just Calm down.'
Lucie's emotions calmed down, but it still wasn't enough for her to properly look up. Her mouth remained silent for a moment—waiting for what her lady might say. When no response was heard, she panicked.
"Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to offend you."
"Lucie."
A flinch almost made her jump from her own body. "Yes, my lady?"
"I'm… not sure I follow. You said you heard me mumbling about somebody called Judy?" Adria tilted her head.
"Um, yes, my lady," Lucie said, her eyes finally meeting with Adria's.
"Who's That?"
"Pardon?"
"I've never heard of such a name before." Her heart tightened. "Are you sure you heard me right?"
"Oh. My apologies, my lady," Lucie's eyes looked at the floor once more. "Yes, you're right, maybe I didn't hear it correctly."
"It's fine, Lucie. We should get going now."
"…Yes, my lady."
***
The warmth of sunlight covered the vastness of the Aurielles' garden. Every single blade of grass was dancing at its rhythm as if they were choreographed moves. The birds looked particularly happy that day as they plunged their beaks into the flowers, which were filling the air with such a pleasant smell.
'I think I now understand why they like to have their meals here.'
But one particular flower caught Adria's eye. It was different from all the others in the garden. It was droopy where the others were upright, dull where the others were bright, and its mere presence didn't look welcome in the garden where all the other flowers seemed to fit right in.
Adria bent down to see the flower from closer, her hand patting it on its head before she quickly stood up. 'Hang in there, little one.'
She looked over her shoulder—Lucie stood there carefully watching over her so that she wouldn't fall. A sense of guilt, because of lying to her, seemed to follow Adria around.
'I'm sorry, Lucie.'
"Kath!" a voice she knew all too well shouted excitedly, exhaustion washing over her as soon as he spoke. "What took you so long?"
"Good afternoon, Father. Good afternoon, Mother," she said, swiftly ignoring Charles' question.
"Good afternoon, Katherine," they both said. "You may sit down now."
The table was silent as they all focused on their meals. The singing of birds was the only sound that could be heard in the garden.
"Mother, Father. I've got news," Charles said as he put down his cutlery. "Kath's legs are better now!"
The baron sighed, his eyes still focused on his plate. "And how are you sure of that?"
"I hired a holy physician to check up on her."
"You did what?" the baron flung his head up, his eyes meeting with Charles'.
"I know that what I did was wrong, but I had a hunch that Kath had gotten better."
"And why didn't you tell us about this hunch of yours before hiring a physician behind my back?"
"…I didn't want to give you false hope, Father." his head drooped low.
"…Sigh. What did the physician say exactly?"
A beaming smile surged on Charles' face. "He said that the structure of her legs is much better now."
"But how did that happen?" the baron asked. "We were never able to find a solution for her all this time."
"The physician said it was a miracle. Maybe the goddess of health descended and healed her while she was asleep." Charles laughed.
The baron looked at Adria, a soft smile appearing on his lips. "How are you feeling, Katherine?"
"I'm fine …Father."
"If so, I'm happy," the baron nodded. "This is indeed a day to celebrate."
"Should I ask a servant to bring a bottle of wine, dear?" the baroness said.
"Yes, yes. Tell them to get the best wine we have in the cellar."
'They want to celebrate in the middle of the day? Must be nice being rich.'
"Speaking about celebrations," the baroness added. "Have you thought about your ball, Kath?"
A sigh almost escaped Adria's lips. 'I knew they'd ask me about this.'
"Not yet, Mother," she replied.
"That would be the best time to announce this to high society, would it not?" The baroness nodded in agreement at her own question.
"I'll… think about it, Mother."
"You'll be coming of age in 12 days, though, Kath," Charles said.
'Right, it's in 12 days. So if they still haven't decided it when the date is so close, doesn't that mean that Katherine was also against it?'
"…Can I just not have the ball, Mother?" she said. "We can just have a small party between us to celebrate. How does that sound?"
"Kath…" Clare tried to muster up a reason to reject her daughter's offer, but that quickly died. "Fine. We will do it the way you want it." A hint of resignation and happiness rippled through the baroness' hazel-coloured eyes.
Something akin to guilt tugged on Adria's heartstrings.
'Oh. It was that easy? I expected a bit more resistance.'
'Maybe they won't actually reject what I'm about to ask next, then.'
Adria ran the scenario over and over again in her head—preparing herself for all the possible answers Katherine's parent could give.
"Mother, Father. May I ask one more thing of you?"
"Hmm? What is it, Katherine?" the baron replied.
"Since I can now walk without the need of support and can also walk long distances just fine, can I start going outside the manor?" she said, trying to increase her chances of success by overexplaining the situation.
A brief silence took over before all of the Aurielles on the table shouted, "Go outside?!"