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[Rough Draft] Chapter 53: The Sting of Parting

 

Gus’s dark ebony eyes blinked in surprise as he took in Ivy’s changed appearance. The timid maid who barely kept up with her appearances had gone, replaced now by a more confident noblewoman, dressed in fine silk and lace, with her hair swept up with barely a strand out of place.

Her cheeks were rosy, not in the natural sort of way when Ivy blushed or flushed with fever, but the color looked good on her. Those gentle eyes that he had seen shed tears on more than one occasion now smiled up at him with a hint of makeup that made their beautiful green color all the more vibrant. Even her lips had gained some color. They weren’t dry, cracked, or bleeding from Ivy’s old habit of chewing on them worriedly.

“I—wow—” Gus stammered out awkwardly as he tried not to stare. “You look—so different.”

“As do you!” Ivy replied which a chuckle as she reached towards the simple black jacket he had chosen to wear for this visit.

‘Perhaps I should have gone for a bit more color?’ Gus mused as he shifted his feet, his gaze drawn by the sunlight that glittered off the emerald broach Ivy wore against her slender neck. An exorbitantly expensive piece of jewelry the maid she had once been would have never dared to touch—let alone look at.

“Your back!” Ivy murmured curiously as her hand lingered against his label. “You’ve recovered from your injury!”

“Ah—yes,” Gus cleared his throat, annoyed at his lack of assertiveness. ‘I came here for a reason. I can’t get distracted like this!’

“What—happened to you, Gus?” Ivy whispered as she pulled her hand back and focused on his face with an expression of remorse and guilt. “After you left Hawthorne—”

“You mean after the Earl tossed me out like a piece of trash?” Gus scoffed sharply, then cleared his throat again as Ivy’s expression crumpled. “Turns out it was a stroke of good fortune for me. I was sent back to the slave pens where a foreigner bought me and set me free.”

Ivy’s brows shot up as her eyes brightened with interest. “A foreigner! The Saints must have been looking after you then, Gus. Oh, I’m so glad!” She dropped her gaze and twisted the edge of her laced sleeve. “The Duchess did try to find you when I told her you were gone, but—”

“Did she?”

Ivy blinked at the sarcasm in Gus’s voice. “Of course, she did! But if you were freed, then your slave papers must have been destroyed—so it makes sense that she couldn’t find anything.”

‘So you still blindly revere her then?’ Gus scowled as Ivy dropped her gaze, turning instead towards the rose bushes that grew on either side of the porch.  “I—was surprised to hear that you came back here—after everything,” Gus added softly, hating the silence and awkward tension.

“It’s different now,” Ivy replied, still avoiding his gaze. “They remodeled much of the building. The servants’ house looks nothing like it did in the past. And now there are children. Children I can help attain a second chance at a better life.”

“She really is determined to never let you go,” Gus muttered darkly under his breath.

“What?” Ivy’s jade eyes swept back to him with a narrowed look. “What did you say?”

Gus moved his lips from side to side as he forced down the accusations burning at the back of his throat. “I said—are you sure this is what you want?”

Ivy frowned as she studied him but shrugged. “It wouldn’t be too far off the mark to say that I’m living my dream now, thanks to the Duchess. I’ve been freed, became a noble—a Viscountess nonetheless—and now I’ve become a teacher—well Matron—but helping children receive an education and a better life all the same.”

“That’s all you want?” Gus murmured doubtfully. “What about marriage and children of your own?”

She stiffened, her gaze returning once more to the rose bushes as she reached for the broach at her throat. “I am grateful enough to have what I have now. Asking for more—would just be greedy.”

“No, it wouldn’t!” Gus stepped forward and took her left wrist gently. He looked down, surprised by hold cold her small hand felt. “No one could ever dare to call you greedy, Ivy!”

She blinked at him, surprised, then pulled her hand away. “That’s nice of you to say, Gus. Have you—found employment somewhere in the Capital—now that you’re free.”

“I have—though the job does require me to travel a bit,” Gus replied hesitantly.

“Really! That’s good.” Ivy beamed with interest. “I think traveling would be a splendid way to learn more about the world and—forget the past.”

“I would enjoy it more if I had someone to share it with.”

Ivy’s small brows furrowed between concern and worry as her jade green eyes studied him. “I—can’t.”

Gus’s smile jerked and fell as he studied her. “Why not? Didn’t we discuss this? If some day we both attained our freedom—”

“Talking about dreams and living them in reality are two different things,” Ivy interjected firmly. “And that was a long time ago.”

“So what?” Gus drew in a slow breath to calm the anger leaking into his voice. “Why must you stay here with all the unhappy memories I know you still carry. Wouldn’t it be better to leave and start over somewhere new?”

“It’s too late for that,” Ivy whispered so quietly that Gus almost missed her words as a breeze carried the scent of roses and rain across the porch.

“You’re staying because of her, aren’t you? Because she made you a Viscountess?” Gus spat angrily.

“I’m staying because I want to. Because I can do some good here!”

“How can you let her control you like this? You know she’s a witch. The whole Capital knows it now!”

“Because she used her magic to save the Crown Prince and the rest of the royal train from a traitor and an army of mercenaries who attacked us!” Ivy shot back furiously. “Just because Lady Kirsi is a witch doesn’t make her a bad person!”

“She kills people, Ivy! That makes her the definition of a bad person!”

“Lady Kirsi has never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it!”

“Is that so?” Gus countered with a glower as he pressed his trembling fists to his side. “And just how many people has she killed Ivy?”

“Stop!” Ivy’s sharp voice cut through him like a slap as her jade eyes focused on him without an inch of warmth. “You know what her life was like here. You know—what Lincoln did to me, what this family put all three of us through. Maura is a kind, thoughtful, and caring person. Someone who is brave enough to defend herself and those she cares about—even if that means getting her hands dirty.”

‘But she is a witch. Maura is someone even the church fears!’ Gus smothered the protests swelling up behind his clenched teeth, and dropped his gaze. “I—just don’t want to see you hurt anymore, Ivy.”

A soft sigh filled the awkward silence before Ivy stepped past him and continued down the steps of the porch. “I am safe here,” Ivy said quietly.

Gus turned and watched as she stared across the front yard, with its gleaming white stone paved driveway, manicured bushes, lilies, and even a stone fountain.

“I know you suffered because of Sophya, Josiah, Judith and her brother—but that was their sin, not Maura’s. She tried to get you out. It was the Countess and Earl who underestimated how cruel the Turnbells really were.”

“They’re nobles—I expect they just weren’t all that concerned about a promise to a half-blood and some lowly slave,” Gus muttered as he moved down the steps towards her. “I know you think your life is better now because you’re a noble again—”

“It is,” Ivy replied stubbornly and crossed her arms.

“—but these people have a way of holding onto weakness, and anything that makes you lesser than them—look at how they treated Lady Maura. Even now, when she’s a Duchess, they whisper behind her back—talking about her parentage, saying that she framed the Marquess so she could have him killed while ingratiating herself to the crown prince for his favor and protection.”

“Ha!” Ivy snorted. “The Duchess has her own army who were far more efficient at fighting off the Marquess’s soldiers than any of the Royal Knights.”

‘Yes, the Bastiallano knights are certainly a problem. But one I’m sure we’ll overcome given the right opportunity.’

“I still think it would be safer for you if you separated yourself from Maura,” Gus continued determinedly. “Weren’t you the reason the Duchess went after the Marquess to begin with?”

Gus flinched as Ivy whirled towards him, the blush on her cheeks darkening as the rest of her face went pale.

“How—do you know about that?” she whispered hoarsely.

“The people I work for—” Gus explained hesitantly, “—have an interest in the Duchess.”

“The people you work for?” Ivy hissed out tensely. “Who?”

Gus swallowed. “That isn’t—exactly something I should tell you.”

‘Or want to tell you.’

“What? That someone looked into my past and Maura’s?” Ivy spat. Her fingers tightened against her arms as she glared at him. “Tell me what is going on right now, Gus!”

“In truth—” Gus twisted his hands together as he forced himself to meet her gaze. “The foreigner who bought me—was a witch hunter.” Ivy blinked rapidly in response, surprise and confusion clouding her eyes. “Shortly after she freed me and took me in—she die—your Duchess killed her.”

“What?” Ivy sucked in a breath and stared down at the ground.

“I swore to repay that kindness and avenge her.”

“Her? The witch hunter who—bought and freed you.”

“Yes,” Gus replied. “Her name was Tarlay.”

“And your saying—that Mau—Lady Kirsi killed her?”

“A friend of Tarlay’s witnessed her murder. He took me with him to Zarus—where I offered my services—to Pope Jericho.”

Ivy’s eyes widened to the point Gus was faintly worried they might fall out of her head. She appeared to stop breathing as she stared at him, clearly beyond shocked at the astonishing story he had just revealed to her.

“Ivy,” Gus pressed gently as he moved closer and took hold of her arms gently. “Ivy, while I was sick with the fever—I had a vision. One that the Pope himself confirmed.”

Ivy’s jade-green eyes stared blankly at his jacket lapel, then turned towards the sunlight yard around them.

“Maura’s new name, Kirsi, belongs to an old and ancient witch who is reborn after death into the body of a new ice witch. She always reveals herself by using the same name, and each of her rebirths are marked by an incoming Calamity. The Pope says that’s why a plague has come to Lafeara and that if Krisi is not destroyed—the whole world may burn in ice and fire.”

Slowly her gaze returned to him, and her lips pressed together firmly.

“That’s why I’m asking—no, I’m begging you, Ivy. Leave with me! In my vision—I saw you dead—because of her!”

“Lies,” Ivy whispered numbly.

“Ivy! When have I ever lied to you!”

“The church lies,” Ivy countered dully. “That’s how they’ve maintained their power for so long.”

“But—surely even you find it suspicious. This sickness that Maura is “fighting” against with the help of a foreign prince who is also a witch. How do we know she didn’t cause it herself?” Gus shook his head, then flinched as Ivy tried to pull away.

“Have you forgotten?” Ivy demanded incredulously. “Our Mistress has always been able to predict the future. If you believe everything the Church tells you, then surely you must believe she has the bloodline of the Saints within her too—since only they can predict the future.”

“That is blasphemy, Ivy! A Saint cannot be a witch!”

She tried to pull free from his grasp again, but Gus held on tightly, desperately.

“I know you care for Maura dearly—but look what she has become. Someone who has killed three people that we know of. Lincoln, Tarlay, the Marquess, perhaps even her parents, perhaps even others we don’t know about.”

“Her parents?” Ivy protested furiously. “Maura was in the palace when they died.”

“But she might have had someone else do it for her. The Earl, for example. He was there when both her parents died, and their death’s freed Maura to use the fortune that she saved up under the name Frost!”

“Gus!” Ivy hissed and drew in a trembling breath. “Stop this! If you say one more bad thing about my dear friend—I will never forgive you or speak to you again!”

Gus blinked and stood frozen as Ivy pulled herself firmly from his grasp.

“Now I am grateful and relieved to see that you are well,” Ivy continued coldly as she adjusted her shawl over her shoulder. “But perhaps this is where our relationship ends.”

“What? Why!”

“You have suspected as long as I have that Maura is a witch—and yet you choose to align yourself with the church—to work for people who kill witches just because!”

“Because witches are evil, greedy, and cannot—”

“Do you think Maura chose to be born a witch any more than you chose to be born a slave?!”

Gus flinched beneath the intense anger that coated Ivy’s words and watched silently as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe tears from her cheeks.

“I won’t tell you how to live your life or what choices you should make. We have both lived through plenty of that for far too long,” Ivy whispered harshly. “But if you insist on working for those—murderers—then I think we should say our goodbyes here and now.”

Gus shook his head slowly as he drew in a slow breath and let out a weak laugh. “You’re the one protecting a murderer. You know Maura killed Lincoln!”

“As if you wouldn’t have killed him yourself if given the means,” Ivy retorted, then turned sharply back towards the Manor’s steps. “I think it’s time you left, Witch Hunter.”

“Ivy!” Gus protested as he chased after her. “I only came here to warn you.”

“That Maura will be the death of me?” Ivy laughed scornfully as she turned to face him. “I have already seen death, and let me assure you, Gus. It wears an unforgettable face.”

The look in her jade-green eyes as Ivy turned away and continued up the steps and through the Manor door that shut loudly behind her left Gus frozen in his tracks. When he could finally move, he turned and angrily kicked at one of the flowers planted along the freshly paved road.

‘Maura always did like flowers.’

Gus shook his head and ran a hand through his brown locks as he turned back towards the distant gate.

‘Never mind, as long as we deal with the Calamity Witch before it’s too late—everything will be fine.’