Chapter 5: Ribbon-tied

Winifred never had an expression etched on her face. Archiston did not have much to offer her, he was but a fling or an escapade to the pressure whenever Winifred felt pushed against the tide. She was presumptuous that something fatal could have happened to the man from the fact that he went cold like smoke, descending in the air until it was fully gone.

Winifred did not try to sum up conclusions or even bother her feelings, sure, she did felt a pang as if she was hit by a ton of realizations — her failures, her shortcomings and everything else that would have held her and Archiston together, everything which could have made her accountable for their relationship's failure, but those emotions did not linger long. Winifred eventually began telling herself how everything was over.

Despite the fast response to her emotional frustration, Winifred did not really set her grief on a more tremendous fire. Well, he was a fling — although, Winifred did had longing to the man — an attachment. Something she found inevitable to run from. Humans are very capable with emotions unlike other organisms dependable on their instincts, so when Winifred had Archiston with her to keep her company, dopamine would course through her making her feel esteemed. To be constantly provided the lack of her lonesome, Winifred had to have more of Archiston.

Unfortunately, it dwindled down for Archiston was a fun person, too fun that he would provoke Winifred's feelings by giving her different enthusiasms on every other day. Winifred nodded her head, lowering them down, letting her bizarre bergére hat to cover the glimpses of her shock, electric blue eyes.

"What was the autopsy's statement?" she inquired, her head still slightly lowered away from Martina and Coleman's gazes.

Coleman coughed inwardly, clearing his throat, vying to keep himself focused. "Well...his flesh turned to have brutally undergone physical traumas, his throat was swelling harshly, and an excessive amount of opium was found in his system — he seemed to be drugged during the process. The report came in with the statement which said that the body died before getting to the annexe. Regardless of the details, it was ruled that he died due to arsenic poisoning. Speculations tell that he was thrown off the annexe to disguise the reason of his death."

Winifred moved a muscle, holding her head on Coleman's eye level, keeping his gaze company with austerity never leaving her glimpses. "If that was a stunt to conceal and disfigure his cause of death, then the culprit must have been a real klutz to have slovenly killed the victim."

Coleman nodded his head. "I might not be thinking outright if it were true, but I am not relieved to say that you are wrong — which I hoped he was just clumsy and not strongly someone capable of great danger. Or so the part of the victim's disposal seemed cluttered, but I am afraid to tell that he was serious and that it was intended as I believe."

Winifred had her head tilted hearing Coleman's statement further. There it was, the confirmation she needed. If somehow the danger which kept following her was ever the same as what Coleman would state, then it would be something that can cause her grieving. One thing or the other, it will lead to something like that, if ever they were connected, that is. Especially since the provoking phrase the young sire from the Cicilly had just mentioned last night. It had never felt more surreal and horrific like this.

Coleman rubbed his palms against each other, his feet nerved as also his tongue to tell the whole story. Winifred was in grave danger. "Although, this is not about Archiston, Lady."

Winifred's eyes lifted up to the young butler, his tailcoat dazzling from under the small glint of sunlight coming from the sun hiding from the clouds amidst the drizzle. He had a worried expression across his face as a shadow of uneasiness travel beneath the surface of his skin.

Coleman took a step close to Winifred making the soles of his shoes resound against the marble path. He dug deep from under the pockets of his suit revealing a pastel ribbon tie resembling one of which Winifred had worn.

"My Lady," Martina gasped. "That's the ribbon that you lost that day..."

Winifred's brow twitched unevenly. She stared at the ribbon vying to come up with an excuse that it was fully hers — she was still in denial of the fact that her freedom will be supposedly stolen.

"The second day of the third week of last month, Archiston reportedly travelled from Aredona, the city up north to the south city, Irmeo. The travel was a three-day journey during the day of Ilbetha when there was limited passage of crossing those cities. But the testimony brought to light that Archiston arrived at Irmeo three weeks after descending Aredona. There were witnesses which claimed he stayed at Erfurt in an inn nearby your mansion," Coleman expressed.

"Wouldn't that be considered normal since it was the day of Ilbetha?" Martina tapped her shoulders. "Lady, isn't it strange that Ilbetha is a one-day celebration yet it took him three weeks to reach his destination?"

Winifred thought carefully. Perhaps she was indeed right. And why would Archiston stay near her relative mansion when they were over months ago? It couldn't simply be a coincidence. The mansion was fifteen kilometers away from the main plaza where he could have took off faster if he were just there to stay — there were many inns which could have housed him more especially since he was a noble. Winifred clenched her fists, tensed and mightily bothered. She folded her hands, clasping each of her fingers tightly.

"Continue, Coleman," she spake, composed. Her face hid the apprehensiveness which tried to give her away.

"This piece was found inside the inn where he stayed at, correspondent to the same bergére ribbon found wrapped in his hands." Winifred picked up the pastel ribbon from Coleman's rough palms, speculating them wisely. It had become true to her that it was indeed a missing piece from one of her bergére hats.

Winifred shook her head gently, her mind going astray from the normal composure she always acted to be. It was extremely bizarre to find herself tied into a case like this — literally tied.