Finding Camellia

Part 1. Shadow Girl

It was a long wet season in the empire.

After ten consecutive days of torrential downpours, the citizens finally gave up on waiting for the sun and shut themselves inside.

The rain fell indiscriminately over the palace, city, and slums.

In the part of the city known as Louver, a carriage pulled to a stop in a narrow alley. The eaves looming above converged so close together that they appeared to block out the sky.

It was hard to tell night apart from day here. Some claimed that the only reason the city watch even concerned themselves with this area at all was because the postal service still occasionally passed through to deliver letters. Ordinary people avoided the slums altogether.

From the make of the carriage and the quality of its horses, it was clear that the passenger within did not share the struggles of those who barely sustained themselves on one gilly a week.

As a robed attendant lowered the footrest and opened the carriage door, a woman's shoe of leather and silk stepped onto the red velvet.

"Lead the way."

Her voice was low and elegant.

A man suddenly emerged from the shadows, ducking subserviently as he bared his yellow teeth. "I-it's this way, my lady."

The woman glanced over him with an icy look as she pulled on a robe.

The alley was filled with garbage, vagrants, and dead animals. It reeked despite the rain.

Overwhelmed by the assault on her senses, the woman's hands, hidden beneath her robes, began to shake. It was to be expected; such a squalid place was ill-suited for a dignified noble.

"My lady," said her guard beside her. "If you're weary, I suggest you wait in the carriage. I will handle these affairs."

"No. I shall attend to this myself."

Anastasia Bale.

She was the wife of Marquis Gilliard Bale. Lord Bale not only was the proprietor of several textile and tobacco factories but also dabbled in the shipbuilding and iron ore industries. Now, one hundred years after the war, House Bale was as wealthy and renowned as House Ihar.

So why did the lady of such an illustrious family find herself in the slums?

The yellow-toothed man served as their guide and led the way. The marchioness's guard seemed more anxious than her; he followed them closely from behind, exposing the sword at his waist in a protective stance.

"I'll have you know, my lady," said the guide. "I went through quite an ordeal to locate the child. I'm curious as to why you wish to find her."

The steel of the guard's sword rang coldly as he slid it out of its sheath. "If you value your life, you'd do well to hold your tongue."

The guide recoiled from the threat of violence and shrank back in fear. "What do you mean? We passed by the Red Nose Pub earlier, and this is Ms. Melburn's oil house. The road looks similar but I assure you, it's different."

Anastasia glared at her guard, who remained alert, as if to reproach him. These arrangements had been quite difficult to make; if the guide changed his mind, she could lose her chance.

Her guard sheathed his sword and thus continued to follow them in respectful silence.

Louver felt like a fortress—a bunker foully brimming with the dregs of society.

Visibly shaken, the guide kept stealing nervous glances at his visitors as he led them the rest of the way. Then all at once, an expression of immense relief flooded his face when he pointed to a residence marked by a red ribbon. The houses weren't separate; the whole structure resembled some sort of rampart, and he simply gestured at one of the building's many doors.

"There it is. You have no idea how hard it was for me to find the brat. The woman who calls herself her mother treasures her dearly. If you would be so kind as to spare me ten gillies for my trouble…"

It was the only place in Louver unobscured by eaves. There, sitting in the pouring rain, was the child they had been looking for.

When the look in Lady Bale's eyes seemed to change, her guard tossed a leather pouch onto the ground. The sound of clinking coins echoed through the tunnel-like space.

The guide could not control himself. He dived at the pouch, checked how much was inside, cracked a smile, and bowed his head until it nearly touched the wet ground. Then he began to back away slowly before turning abruptly and breaking into a run.

It was probable that he had been paid more than he anticipated.

"See to it that he is silenced properly. Do you understand?"

The guard gave a resolute nod to the marchioness. "As you command."

Anastasia slipped him a surreptitious look and walked into the rain. Moisture seeped into her shoes, and the awful feeling made her lips tremble.

Crouched in the rain, the child was so focused on something that she didn't realize someone was approaching. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt, and her honey blonde hair reached all the way down to her waist.

Didn't he say she was twelve years old?

The child was smaller than most her age and looked much younger. She wore stitched-together rags and was, at the moment, focused on carving a piece of wood.

Anastasia's frown deepened when she saw the sharp knife in the girl's small hands.

Despite their proximity, however, the child failed to notice anyone else's presence. Anastasia stopped and stood on the sloped road as the rain continued to pour.

"Hello, child."

The little girl dropped her knife, startled, and looked up.

Her eyes caught Anastasia off-guard. They were a brilliant mix of turquoise and emerald—a shade that was all too familiar.

The anger she had tried to bottle up for years immediately began to rise. Invoking all her patience, she forced it back down.

She glanced at the door, then back to the girl. "It's raining. What are you doing out here?"

The girl's lips twitched slightly as she removed the fabric covering her ears and tied it around her waist. "Mother is still working. Who are you?"

Working?

Anastasia smirked. Through thick curtains came the sounds of a woman moaning and a man cursing.

Beautiful Camellia. A flower in a whorehouse.

A sparkling gemstone born in a brothel.

That was what the people of the slums called her.

Some years ago, a woman of remarkable beauty who was heavy with child was said to have arrived in Louver seeking refuge. She had no place to go, so she slept among the homeless and went from door to door begging for morsels of bread. She lived in a constant state of fear, almost as if she were being pursued. Then one day she gave birth on the streets.

Anastasia had heard that it was a rainy day like today, and that the woman gave birth to an angel with emerald eyes next to the reeking corpse of a dog.

For a while she struggled to nurse her child because she was unable to feed herself, so people took pity on her and gave her food and clothing. Through all her woes, the woman never took anything for granted and cared deeply for her daughter.

But to raise a child on the streets, one has to put one's whole life on the line.

The season of plenty came to pass, and winter arrived with a vengeance. When the child came down with a terrible fever from the cold, the woman was left with no choice but to offer her body to the village doctor.

Very few men could refuse a woman so beautiful, even one with a child. As it so happened, she was also a widow. The doctor agreed to save the daughter in exchange for having his way with her mother.

That had been exactly twelve years ago.

"You must be Lia. Correct?"

The child nodded innocently in reply to the marchioness's kind voice. "Do you know me?"

"I do. Your mother… I've heard that she's very ill. That's why I'm here."

The child's eyes widened. "Mother? Mother is sick??"

She turned to run inside. On the brink of tears, she was about to knock on the door when Anastasia's guard struck her in the back of her slim neck. The child couldn't even muster a scream as she lurched forward helplessly. Thick raindrops pattered upon her tiny figure.

The guard picked up Lia's small, limp body and frowned. "She's light for a twelve-year-old."

Anastasia looked down at Lia and nodded. "Let's go. I don't want this to start a commotion. Get some men to clean things up here."

She paused mid-step and turned her head, glaring coldly at the building where a woman's moaning could still be heard through the rain. A thin smile formed across her face as she sighed.

"What do you think would happen if there were a fire on a rainy day?"

The ominous words, though elegantly spoken, riddled the guard with goosebumps.

"I jest," said the marchioness. "I just want her to be safe, that's all. Let's go."

Their shadows melted into the darkness. Around them, windows began to open along the quiet street. The residents had been hiding, sensing something wicked was afoot. Now they looked around at each other as though nothing had happened, gradually and silently locking their windows again.

The raindrops thickened, and it seemed that the torrent would start once more.

It felt as though the nighttime was deepening throughout the empire.

***

"Wake up, child."

Pleasant aromas, a soft surface... both sensations she had never felt before. Was this heaven? If it was a dream, she didn't want to wake up.

But someone shook her awake, and her eyes flew open.

"Ahhh!"

Scared senseless, Lia woke up screaming. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked around. She had no idea where she was.

The nicest place she had ever seen in the past ten years was the attic of Louver's fabric seller, Miss Lauren. There had been a cute dog named Polly and a variety of beautifully colored textiles. When Lia had seen them fluttering in the wind, it had made her feel like she was in a palace fit for a princess. She used to love visiting just to behold that wonderful sight.

This place, however, was nothing like Miss Lauren's attic. The sheer decadence of the room was beyond her wildest imagination. There was a bed ten times bigger than Lia herself and a window that stretched from floor to ceiling. She couldn't contain her amazement at all the beautiful books stacked on top of the luxurious carpet, as well as the huge, cozy fireplace.

"Am I in heaven?"

The woman who had stirred Lia awake put down the tray she was holding and smiled at her naïve inquiry. "You must be hungry. You should eat something before we get you washed up. That smell… hmmm… no, it certainly won't do."

Lia's mouth watered at the sight of the soup in front of her, but she couldn't bring herself to eat. Despite the slew of questions she had regarding her own whereabouts, she was still foremostly concerned about her mother.

Did I fall asleep in the street while talking to that beautiful lady?

"Why aren't you eating?" asked the woman as Lia sat there blinking. "Aren't you hungry?"

The child shook her head as she clasped her own knees and curled up into a ball.

"Ma'am, where is this place? What about my mother? Where's the pretty lady I met earlier?"

"Why?"

The woman had a hard time finding the words to answer her and hesitated with each response.

Sounds of a commotion came from outside the door before it suddenly swung open. Standing there, glowing like an angel, was a boy with honey blond hair and emerald eyes. He met Lia's face with a radiant smile.

It was the first time she had ever seen someone so beautiful. She hid her dirty hands as the boy walked towards her.

"Hi, Camellia."