Newly Wed and Alone (Chyril 23rd late ET)

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie was breathing heavily, burring her head into the lap of the servant for but a flicker, relishing the comfort. Her voice felt like it would never be whole again. Already a youthful disease had damaged her. Rose had no illusions how this would leave her. Damaged beyond repair.

Her eyes fixed on where Kaspar floated, cursing in true mouthie style, revealing his feelings where he might have pretended in the past to have feelings for her. Her heart was cold as she advised Deacon in a painful, hoarse voice, damaged beyond repair "See to my Lord the Baron. Get him out of here. Fetch somebody.. ANYBODY... who can dispatch spirits. The Caesar if he is still here, or .. " Her eyes focused on Deacon "Or Milords girl." After all the brutta had been present at a place where daemons roamed. She would at least know who to call in. This was knowledge hidden in the Citadel.

"Begone," she spat at Kaspari, feeling more daring than ever "Your time is done. Be content with what you had. You will not have it for ever more." It was her personal curse, for him to feel the loss for ever and it came from her heart, uttered with a bad temper. Afterall he sought revenge so she had no cause to pity him any longer.

[Grey Wolf]

It was a croak that emerged from Rosalie's lips at first, only her second try sounding like speech. How much of it was permanent was anybody's guess, the maid reaching into her pocket and pulling a handkerchief, wiping away a bit of blood from milady's throat, where Illish' nails scratched deep into her skin. The servant held her close, almost protectively, following mistress' gaze, but obviously not seeing what she did.

It was even before Rose commanded, that Deacon was moving, rushing to Baron's side, rolling the prone man over and examining the wound upon the back of his skull. "Jane, go fetch me a razor, clean cloth, needle and thread. And some warm water. And do as the lady said. Caesar is gone, but Lucienda might be around. Go, NOW." As the girl gently laid a pillow under Rosalie's head, Deacon looked at her and then at Baron's fingernails. "What happened here? Why would the Baron try to strangle you?"

[Rosalie Marcada]

"No," Rosalie croaked, "Get him out of here first Deacon." Her voice was urgent, like it had been during the rows in the Citadel when she had urged him to take his lordship to safety. She had the insane thought that physical distance would keep Kaspar away from Illish. It was of course a false hope, but nothing is as reassuring as false hope.

Her amber eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, seeing the Aetherial form of Kaspari, or what was once Kaspari and was now just a daemon, a bad spirit, spewing forth dirt, spreading the word of her sins without a word of care, without any semblance of their previous love. Had it all been an illusion or was it love that turned into hatred?

"His Lordship did not strangle me," Rosalie reassured Deacon, and only when speaking those words aloud did she know them to be true "He was possessed by an evil spirit outside the circle of Dominicus. Illish might very well have tried to help me for all I know. It is our enemies doing, old friend, and we must be smarter than them."

Clearing her head she addressed the bodyguard "What would his lordship usually do when affronted by magick? Did he have special protectors. Maybe.. what was her name.. the Duke's wife. We must make sure he cannot be possessed again. After that we can deal with dismissing this.. abomination."

[Grey Wolf]

Much like he had done it before, though this time th baron was not conscious, Deacon scooped Illish up into his arms, like a mother carrying a child. "Milady, I'll be right back. If you need me, just call." The aging bodyguard left, leaving Rosalie alone with Kaspar, who stared at her silently, his eyes literally burning red with hatred, before he made a back flip in mid-air and vanished into the floor just as the maid came back in.

Jame was breathless, her eyes following Rosalie's gaze before coming inside and kneeling beside the bed at the mistress' side. "Milady, Mistress Lucienda refused to come. She......" The girl looked frightened, tears welling in her eyes. "She said you can go..... Oh, milady I can not sya it. Please, she was very rude." She licked her lips, her face pale, honey colored eyes side and moist, though she did not cry just yet. "Deacon said that I should send to Professor Moore, and I did. But, I don't know when he will be here. Jonathan went to fetch him." She reached for Rosalie's neck, tentatively, fingers shaking, pulling back every few inches, advancing towards the wound slowly. "Do you.. Do you want me to clean your wounds? While we wait?"

[Rosalie Marcada]

Kaspar the litte ghost disappeared again in a puff of annoyance. She could only hope it was not to chase her husband, though truthfully only she had ever seen Kaspari so he was likely attached to her somehow. Andolin had noticed something, but not informed her of the hows and why's.

The maid interrupted her thoughts. Rosalie's eyes narrowed, her fury finding a clear conduit. It was clear that her 'stepdaughter' was a very rude young woman, who was arrogant enough to think she would get away with insulting her new family member, the lady of the house no less. There was no love lost between them but that didn't mean it was permissible to spew forth dirt and refuse to help family. It was doubly rude and Rose cared not for. It was time to establish her authority as well as get rid of her ire, re-establish a semblance of order.

"No," the Ambassador croaked, waving away the tender maid "That is quite alright." With some difficulty she rose, her legs shaking from the fear that still gripped her limps, her heart having not returned to a normal rate yet. Reaching for her house robe she tied the cord around her waist firmly, as if seeking support from the elegant garment.

From the masterbedroom Rosalie stormed to the bedroom of Lucienda, throwing open the door, sailing in as if she was the Caesari herself. She forced herself into a calm disposition, holding her hands in her lap as she looked down upon the older woman that was now subject to her authority, no better than a sulking, spoiled child. She had deliberately not fixed her appearance, the scratched bloody trails, the blue marks, all very clear and yet she was every inch the merchantprincess of World's Mouth. "Use such words again, even to a mere maid, and I'll personally have you whipped, signora. I shall have civility in this house, and obedience to the family's needs and safety. Do not presume to think it will be otherwise, whether you like it or not I do not care."

[Grey Wolf]

Rose was not alone as she rushed through the house, the maid trailing after the mistress, barely half a step behind. She said nothing, though a few muffles snuffles and whimpers could be heard, Jane knowing this would not end well, but not daring to say anything. They emerged into a room much like the one Rosalie was to share with Illish, albeit a bit smaller, the table replaced by a vanity mirror and a comfortable chair before it. A door upon the far side wall was flung open, revealing a wardrobe filled to overflowing.

A pillow sailed through the air, missing both Rosalie and Jane and landing on the floor in the hallway with a dull thump. There was a shrill, short cry of irritation and Luceida rolled over and jumped out of the bed, naked as the day she was born, striding towards her step-mother with clenched fists. "I was sleeping you know? As in being in my bed and trying to rest. And this little whore barges in and wakes me up. Now, what can be so urgent as to require me to get up at this Gods forsaken hour. And it better be something we need, as opposed to being something for your greedy self."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie's eyes narrowed a fraction of a flicker, the only warning she gave, as she stared up at Lucienda, her small frame posed, considering the woman. Now Rose was blatantly unaware of the politics of magick, of the way the dark sorcerers had been chased, while other mages had been cosseted, causing dark sorcerers to go underground. Yet she could sniff out that which was familiar and a criminal underground was a given. Seeing its evidence was like breathing for the merchant princess. So, she had good reason to assume Lucienda had access to the darkest, most sinful magicks, having seen her at the Divale, which had been the scene of such great misery later on. What she was not aware of was how much Lucienda was part of this group, so much so that even the Caesar-to-be tip toed around her. Ignorant of such things she merely assumed that the foolish girl had associated herself with groups as she was irked in her stepmother trauma.

Rosalie could feel no respect for Lucienda. All she saw as a spoiled brat that had never properly learned the rules of familia and its loyalty upon penalty of death. What a contrast to her husband and her father. There was no hesitation in the merchantprincess. It was imperative that she establish her authority now. Whether Lucienda was the cause of mischief or merely a not so innocent bystander, she would have to submit.

Rosalie's hand moved with lightening speed, clawing in the long luscious curls of the taller woman, and pulling her down by hair, arching her back, so that her head was slightly below Rosalie's, who leaned over the girl and in a low, throaty voice that croaked even more than ever she told her "Listen carefully, for I will say this only once. When I send for you, you come running no matter the time of day, nor will you give in to your crude nature by calling anybody I send a whore, you little brutta. I am the mater familias now, and I will decide what is important or not to the familia. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you get married and start your own, pronto."

Rosalie took a deep breath but did not let go of the woman "I have no time for you and your brothers petty worries over your inheritance. Your father was possessed today by an evil spirit. I nearly had to kill him to get the spirit to leave his body, as he tried to throttle me. Your father and his young bride dead, a tragic incident during their wedding night. Now who would have gained from that, mmm? And who has been seen associating with the dark rabble in the Divale before the Major Domus closed it down? I have seen with my own eyes what wickedness that place bred. I don't care how you do it Lucienda, but you will make sure that the spirit is dismissed, and you will do it now, or whipping is the least of your problems. I will not allow you to endanger my Lord Marcada."

[Grey Wolf]

Lucienda had expected a slap and her arms went forward to shield her face, Rosalie's move catching her by surprise. The merchant princess found it easy enough to pull her step-daughter a bit bellow her own level, the girl's eyes flaring, her face a grimace of pain, hand clutching Rosalie' wrist. She stopped struggling after a flicker or two, when it became obvious that doing thus hurt even more.

Lucienda bent awkwardly to her left, her smooth skin showing a few folds at her side as he tilted her head till it was almost horizontal, trying to alleviate the pain as much as possible. "Evil spirit?" She nearly spat the word, quickly catching herself and continuing in a more mellow tone, not wishing to lose a handful of her lustrous black hair. "Why did you wake me then? I am not a mage. You should send for one of the University of Magic's geeks and have him banish the spirit. Or a priest. Now, let go of my hair." He grimace softened into an almost pleading look. "Please? You are hurting me."

[Rosalie Marcada]

A feral smile played on Rosalie's lips as Lucienda assumed a submissive position, pleading she knew nothing of it. A lie. Of course Rose knew that likely this was but a way to get out of this situation; it would take at least one other confrontation with its consequences, possibly running to her father to complain, before the girl would learn it was useless to try and intimidate her much younger stepmother. "Whether or not you know how to do it is not my problem any longer. You choose to associate yourself with such inappropriate company, now see if they can help you." Not that Rosalie would trust that she'd obey; mages of the UoM had already been send for. However it would be amusing to see Lucienda try, humiliated and grumbling.

Holding on a little longer, just to ensure the message sank in, Rosalie let go, after a final pull that usually let a woman splattered on the ground. She looked down upon Lucienda "I trust we understand each other,"she told the woman with something of indifference that was belied by the drama displayed in her neck "You will not get rid of me that easily."

[Grey Wolf]

Lucienda crumpled upon the floor, for a flicker forgetting herself and hissing at her evil step-mother, drawing upon Aetheric strands, gathering tendrils of power to her fingertips. Her nails turned black, growing to twice their original size. It would have been so easy to tear a bloody swath of destruction through the slut's stomach, her envenomed claws tearing through soft tissue, from groin to neck. She held her rage in check, the nails reverting to their original shape, sighing and slumping down. "What do you want me to do, mother.' The last word held just the faintest edge of sarcasm in it, but only just noticeable. "Maybe if you told me what happened I could help. I know so very little of magic." As she spoke, the girl picked herself up from the floor, stepping out of Rosalie's reach. "You said my father has been possessed? How, and by whom?"

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie arched an eyebrow as Lucienda's black nails extended and then withdrew again. While she was unaware of the whole Athearial business, that was a clear sign something was off. So I was right. Sometimes it just pays to go for gutinstinct, even if you are irritated. "Very little magick indeed,"Rosalie croaked with the same barely noticeable sarcasm. You are not fooling me, girl. Oh, how you want to kill me. Yet something is stopping you. Interesting that.

"Well, daughter, I suggest you go and see if your father is alright. He was possessed by the soul of a dead person, a spirit.. a very evil spirit, who wished me dead and took control of Illish to accomplish it," Rosalie instructed Lucienda shortly, not planning on telling more about her connection with Kaspar "I don't know how, that is up to you to find out. All I know is that I nearly poked Illish's eyes out before he let go of the bod again, so he's not looking much better than me. The name of the ghost is Kaspari Verducci." Briefly she looked at Lucienda to see if the girl smirked or gave a sign of recognition, but really it didn't matter. Her instincts told her the girl was involved.

She turned and with a nod at the maid sailed from the room again, leaving Lucienda behind while the Baroness held her head up high. Back in her bedroom she allowed the girl to sooth her wounds, while she instructed "Is the mage from the university there yet? How is my lord Illish?" Only then did Rose relax somewhat, under the administrations of the girl. It was then that the realization came that not only had she just escaped a ghost, but her stepdaughter possessed some very unnatural talents that were a further threat upon her immediate health. If she was anybody but Rosalie LoRusso she would have allowed herself to be afraid. Rosalie Marcada she chided herself, but it didn't sink in yet.

[Grey Wolf]

Lucienda pretended her self-control had not slipped, playing the role of an obedient step-daughter for now, not quite hoping that Rosalie would forget her little mistake, but then again stranger things have happened. Weak-willed had the strange tendency to forget the things they could not explain, to rationalize it in their heads until they were back in their cozy little cocoons once more, where nothing weird could touch them. Are you like that, Mouthie bitch? No, I am not that lucky. You'll just have to die and then all will be fine.

She listened to Rosalie's words, her face almost impassive, the name quite likely unknown to her, as she merely nodded and imperiosuly turned towards Jane. "Fetch me my dressing gown and send someone to my brother. Eisolf should know what happened." As the girl hurried to fetch what was needed, Lucienda moved to the mirror and set about making herself presentable, though she glanced at Rose's reflection in the mirror before donning the gown and leaving the room hurriedly, waiting for her step-mother to move out of the way.

The girl may not have been a professional healer, but she was evr so gently, wiping away the blood and cleaning the wounds with a soft cloth soaked in warm water. She left Rosalie's side for just a few short burns, coming back with a poultice and drew a chair before her. "Mistress, this will hurt a little at first, but Deacon says it will help the wounds heal faster." With careful, almost tentative hands she applied the salve upon every scratch and slowly forming bruise, raising her eyes at Rosalie's question. "Lord Marcada is going to be fine says Deacon. He hurt his head on the bed, but it is not serious. And the mage is not here yet. It'll be almost half a mark before they manage to return."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie was already out of the way, not waiting for the girl to dress. She had seen enough, understood enough. You are out of the circle of Dominicus, bucca, but not outside the circle of your family yet. What to do with you, what to do? The simplest solution would be to cut Lucinda short and deliver her upon authorities on the charge of dark magicks, as illegal here as it was in the Mouth. Yet that would be dishonourable to the family. Her husband would have the final word, if he would believe her.

As she pondered Jane's words Rosalie frowned for a moment. That was taking longer than she thought, but then, rousing people in the middle of gravetide tended to cause delays. "Is my lord Illish awake yet," she asked hesitantly, already rising, intent on checking upon her husband. If he was not awake at least there would be Deacon, a strangely comforting presence.

[Grey Wolf]

By the time Rosalie came to Illish' room, Lucienda was already there, examining her still unconscious father carefully, running her fingers over the wounds upon his eyelids. Though her footsteps were muffled by the thick carpets along the hallway in the master's wing of the house, Rose's stepdaughter turned towards her the moment Madam Ambassador stepped into the door. "He is not possessed any longer. And I can't do much for him. Like I said I know very little of magic. Too many books involved and you learn too slow."

She pushed herself up and shrugged. "I can't help with waking him up anyhow. Deacon is better at that." A shadow in the corner of the room moved and the aged bodyguard came into view, Lucienda's eyes becoming soft, almost kind for a flicker. Deacon smiled at the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder, whispering. "Go to bed, I'll keep an eye on him with Lady Marcada." There was an edge in the old man's voice, Lucienda nodding almost like a little girl and slipping past Rosalie as Deacon took a seat upon the bed next to the Baron. "He'll be fine. I could wake him up right away, but I think it is better if we leave him for a bit more. It will save him from suffering the worst part of a headache." He managed a small smile. "Luckily the skull is intact. There will be a scar and it'll take a while for his hair to regrow, but otherwise he will be fine. How are you, milady? Want me to look over your wounds?"

[Rosalie Marcada]

Not even arching an eyebrow at the interaction between Lucienda and Deacon, nor trusting the truth of the statements of her stepdaughter, Rosalie simply nodded and watched the girl depart. She sat down at Illish' side, grasping for his hand and finding comfort in holding it. She had nearly killed her own husband, and it was all her fault. In the privacy of the moment she allowed the dark thoughts to grip her for a moment. I'm sorry Illish, so very sorry.

"I'm quite alright, the girl dressed my wounds" Rosalie said with her hoarse voice that right now was even worse. She waved away his assistance, not thinking it important enough. She was lucky she could speak at all, of course. Her throat hurt, little pin needles dancing on it.

Rose looked up at Deacon, realizing how much he formed the core of this little family. He must be aware of all the tensions and yet he was unquestioningly loyal "No, let him sleep. I need to talk to him, but later, when he feels better perhaps." A delay was welcome. She couldn't bare to tell him of his traitorous daughter who almost got him killed. Her emotions were a tempest. She pleaded with the loyal retainer "Deacon.. deacon, do you know what happened here this night? What the real truth is?"

[Grey Wolf]

A frown furrowed deacon's brows as he heard Rosalie speak, his hand beckoning Jane closer to him as he whispered a soft request. "Go make some tea for Lady Marcada. Chamomile will be best. Be sure to cool it in the cellar before you bring it. The biggest pot we have and bring along a cup and a small bowl and a few strips of cloth. Go now." The girl nodded and with a quick glance at the lady ran out through the door, pausing in the frame to glance worriedly at Rose over her shoulder and then disappeared out of sight.

Deacon has been patient and silent until they were alone, save for Illish' prone form next to the pair. "I do not know much about magic, but I know milord. And you to an extent. I am aware that this was not a union of love, but you are both sensible people and it was a good match in the end. Whomever it was the meddled with milord's mind wanted you dead. For what reason I do not know, but you would be wise to think about who would wish you harm. I am here if you need me, though I am getting older and I am not sure how much help against a mage I would be. But....." He smiled and took his hand in his own and gave it a squeeze, much like a loving father or grandparent might. "I have protected the Baron for yahren and I take this as a personal insult. I think a little payback would make me feel better." He smiled for a flicker and then looked into Rosalie's eyes. "What happened tonight. I need to know if I am to help, and I assure you that whatever you tell me remains between us."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie looked up and regarded Deacon. She was in something of a pickle, but as before, she knew that if she did not trust Illish most trusted retainer, who coudl she trust. Except he may protect Lucienda, unwisely.

"You are right Deacon," Rosalie declared calmly, as much as her voice allowed her "There was somebody, or more than somebody, after my death this eve."

Rose licked her lips "Let me say from the start that now I'm married to Illish, it is my country's tradition that I'm considered the mater familias, the woman who holds together the family and protects it like a lioness, pressing to make her husband successful and her children happy." She sighed lightly. It was not very likely she and Illish ever had children and if they did, they would not inherit, at least not to the amount that his children from his first wife did.

"Deacon, if you are honest, who hates me more than anybody else? I mean apart from my own enemies.. from the people you know?" she offered, trying to nudge him to the truth.

"That ghost, or evil spirit if you will, was not there by chance. It was somebody I once knew and who.. hates më." she nearly winced, suppressing the emotion "but I have strong reason to believe he was not there by coincidence.. encouraged as it where by some who did not want to see us married.. and I don't need to think long on who that might be." She arched her eyebrow "Do you?"

She watched Deacon's face, wondering if he already knew about Lucienda or not. Where would his loyalites be?

[Grey Wolf]

Not for a moment speaking, Deacon, checked his master's state every couple of flickers, caring for the unconscious man much like a mother might care for her sick child, gently making sure he was not uncomfortable in any way. Rosalie's question caused him to pause in his ministrations, his eyes meeting hers and holding them for a long, silent flicker. "I know what you expect me to say, but I also do not think such a thing is the truth. What happened here tonight was messy and indiscreet. His Lordship's children may not be angels, but they are not so stupid. They want you out, but........ I do not think they would do such a thing in their own house, even if they would consider killing you. Though, had the Baron managed to kill you it would have been perfect for them. You would be dead, and he would be declared insane or condemned of murder. Or at least suspected of such." He paused as if pondering something and then quickly added with a shake of his head. "Even had the milady and milord be able to do such a magickal feat, I do not think they would do it like this. She is not always the most tactful person, but Master Eisolf is her voice of reason. He would not have let her go through, even if she could."

[Rosalie Marcada]

He challenged what she believed and it was interesting. "Then what do you think what happened," Rosalie questioned because she could not resist "I just think it unbelievable that in normal circumstances such an evil.. spirit.. might be able to do such damage. In the Mouth we have inquisitors to stop them and I have to believe that in the Empire similar protections are in place. What failed?"

[Grey Wolf]

Rosalie's question caught Deacon off-guard for a moment, the old retainer of Baron Marcada, frowning for a flicker, his eyebrows knitting. He gave it a ponder, though the frown remained even when he spoke once more. "If you will pardon me form being blunt, milady, you do have quite a number of enemies. Even I know that, though I have not really charge of your security." He shrugged. "Your city gained independence and that is never taken well by the previous ruler or his underlings, since in this case the ruler is dead." He threw a glance her way, pausing as if pondering something. "Then there was Marshall Ranier. Not sure if he would have access to the tools whomever attempted to have you killed used, but I am quite certain he would stoop to such things quite easily." Another pause, a bit longer this time. "It is quite possible the real target was the Baron and not you. He has quite a number of enemies himself. Just because this ghost or whatever it was looked like someone from your past does not mean it was him. Magic has many secrets and I am not very knowledgeable when it comes to it.

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie pondered what Deacon had said and nodded "Very well. I shall consider who else can be to blame though my suspicions regarding my stepdaughter remain. I can however not afford to ignore other possibilities." I need to vanquish them all.

The tired Baroness rose "I shall retire now. The next morning will bring new challenges. Please wake me if his Lordship awakes. If not I shall attend upon him in the morning. Tomorrow I shall take some measures that will hopefully protect all of us a little better."

She stopped at the door, hesitating, then gave Deacon a smile "Thank you. It is a relief to know you are true to the familias. It is a loyalty that I respect, I hope you know that."

[Grey Wolf]

Deacon was on his feet before Rosalie could rise herself, despite being at least twice her age, offering his hand to the weary Baroness and helping her rise. "I'll have Jane spend the night at your side should you need anything. And I'll be just down the hall with the Baron." With a gentle caress he moved a loose curl behind her ear, treating the Madam Ambassador like a father would his little girl. "Jane might be young but she is very loyal. She'll keep you safe." He turned and then paused at the door, Jane visible through it, peeking over the old bodyguard's shoulder. "Thank you, milady. For the compliment." He whispered a few words to the mousy girl before him, Jane nodding quickly and moving to Rose's side, to help her return to bed. She would spend the entire night upon a chair next to it, finally dozing off just before the dawn herself.

[Rosalie Marcada]

The Baroness gave Deacon a nod of understanding. No more words need to be spoken. She followed Jane to her room and allowed the girl to help her into bed, for which she was already appropriately dressed, just shedding the houserobe.

Rosalie was exhausted. While she thought she would never sleep, she nonetheless did, even if fitfull, waking every now and again. Yet like Deacon promised Jane never left her.

OOC: Finito signor!

[Gutter Rat]

Much like both writers involved in this thread, consider this thread throughly skilled.