CHAPTER13: ONE NIGHT, TWO INCIDENTS (2)

A few hours ago, in the quiet of the morning, loud and hurried footsteps echoed throughout the house of the Rowlands in a small town named Yeshre. Stumbling down the stairs, a young woman came into view, struggling to keep her balance. Suddenly, she tripped on the last step, crashing into the wall and shattering a fragile mirror and clock.

As she grasped at the table to steady herself, the woman lost her footing and collapsed, colliding with the breakfast trolley and causing it and its contents to fall to the ground with a loud crash.

"Ouch!" she winced in pain.

Another woman wearing glasses and using a walking stick emerged into the dining room. "Tyrion, is the world ending today?" she asked with a wry smile as a man helped her towards the fallen woman. The young man was her eldest son.

"Can you not be sarcastic in this condition of mine?" The agonizing woman struggled to speak as her murmur could be heard barely.

The older woman scolded her and replied, "Well, you're the one to blame for your condition, Rietta. You should have been more careful."

"I am being careful. I must have lost my glasses in the fall," Henrietta protested, squinting her eyes as she looked around for them. Seeing the mess surrounding her, she felt remorseful and apologized sincerely. "I'm sorry, mother."

Gently settled into her rocking chair by her eldest son, Mrs. Rowand tried to soothe the situation. "That apology should be directed to the person who made an effort to prepare the breakfast this morning," she said with a gentle shrug, looking pointedly at her butler, who was cleaning up the shattered glass.

The guilt and pressure weighed heavily on Henrietta, and she pouted her lips in regret. She turned her head and saw the middle-aged man on the floor, and her heart sank. Although she was the one at fault, another person was clearing up her mess.

She didn't hesitate and apologized formally, "I am very sorry, Mr. Littleton. I know it's all my fault and my careless mistiming. I became a burden on your chest, and it's unforgivable." 

The butler had a calming smile on his face. "It's alright, my lady. These things can happen to the best of us. Moreover, you look stunningly elegant this morning, so I assume you're getting ready for something significant."

"Mr. Littleton, you spoil her too much. You need to give her honest criticism because she's too clumsy," Tyrion scolded the butler. He scanned his sister from head to toe, and a flash of surprise glinted in his eyes. He and his mother exchanged a concerned glance, both noticing that something was not quite right.

Clearing his throat, Tyrion changed the subject and asked, "What's the celebration all about?"

Excitedly, Henrietta looked up at her elder brother and giggled, her earlier remorse forgotten. "I got an invitation to a masquerade party at the duke's estate, isn't it lovely? I'll be the center of attention, mingling with other noble elites and peasants alike, enjoying the drinks and dancing to the melodious music," she exclaimed eagerly, a dimple appearing on one cheek and accentuating her pale features.

"That's fantastic news, Lady Rietta!" the butler exclaimed happily as he finished cleaning up the mess, a towel hung over his arm.

"You are not granted permission!" Mrs. Rowand interrupted sternly, adjusting her glasses rimmed with gold.

"W-What do you mean? Why not?" Rietta cried out in dismay. She leaned forward to smoothen out her authenticated, tailer-fitted indigo gown, frustration etched on her face.

As Mrs. Rowand sipped her morning tea, she calmly responded, "You are too young to mingle with strangers, Rietta."

"Strangers?! Too young?!" Henrietta spluttered in disbelief. "That's absurd. I just turned twenty-one yesterday for goodness' sake!"

"Rietta, you may be an adult on paper, but you act like a child. I am your mother and your responsibility, and your behavior reflects on our family's reputation," Mrs. Rowand replied sternly, feeling a need to speak truthfully with her daughter. She knew that keeping silent would only make things worse.

"What's the point of being a lady if I must stay cooped up at home all day like some damsel in distress waiting for her knight in shining armor? That's what it sounds like you're expecting of me, mother. It's not fair," Henrietta said fiercely, grinding her teeth, and struggling to contain the anger inside her.

"You are being unfair again. When Sienna sought permission to join her friend's birthday party, you very much agreed, but when it was my turn, you are being biased. AGAIN!!" She said calmly, even though she was boiling inside.

"It's not bias, Rietta, it's for your safety," Mrs. Rowand countered, adjusting her glasses again.

Rolling her eyes, Henrietta turned to her elder brother for help. "Tyrion, you work for the duke. Can't you do something?" she implored him, hoping he could offer a solution.

Tyrion, lost in thought, appeared distracted and did not immediately respond to his sister's plea for help.

He remained silent, lost in thought, which infuriated Henrietta even more. Hearing no support from her brother, she slammed her teacup onto the table, unwilling to listen to any more empty platitudes.

"I don't care about this suffocating dress, that stupid party, or you know what- even you all. Your patronizing and unreasonable attitude stifles me." Fuming with indignation, Henrietta glared at her mother and stood up from the table. "Only father understands me. So, go. Just enjoy your tea without me. I'm done here."

With that, the young heiress marched away from the dining room hastily and ran back to her room to contemplate a new plan.

As night descended solemnly, Henrietta implemented her new plan, meticulously fitting her dress into a traveler's bag. She waited until she thought her family had retired for the evening. Then, under the cover of darkness, she scurried out of her house and made her way outside of town.

Once there, Henrietta hopped into the last carriage headed towards the duke's estate. Initially feeling hopeful that her scheme was going to work, her mood soon turned sour, and she clenched her chest tightly with a sudden pang of pain when she laid eyes on the dark, empty road leading toward her destination. Frowning in confusion, she downed her breathing before strange screams and unfamiliar voices echoed inside her head.

The chaos escalating inside her head only amplified her sense of suffocation in the tight quarters of the carriage, and she knew she couldn't bear it much longer. Hastily beckoning the coachman to halt their progress, Henrietta paid him what she could and watched as the carriage slunk away into the black of the night, revealing unfamiliar surroundings around her -- a forbidding road that she didn't recognize.