The Rochefort villa wasnât as grand as their main estate, but it had its charms. High-stone fences ran along the edge, keeping the outside world out.
Etched into the main iron gates was the family crest: a raven, its wings spread wide and facing forward with a shield in the center of its chest.
Celine's late grandmother had always said that the bird was watching over Rochefort's family, alerting them of trouble, or guiding them towards good fortune.
Funny, though â if that was true, the bird must have been slacking off for the past few generations. With so few Rocheforts left, it felt more like the raven was just hanging around, waiting for someone to remind it what the hell it was supposed to be doing.
Sitting on the bed, Celine was propped up by a bunch of pillows. Her fever had come down, but she barely felt better.
Seb, her assistant, stood by her bed. His long silver hair was neatly braided, and his glasses gave him the look of a fairy-tale librarian. He wore a buttoned-up white shirt, black vest, and trousers. The only touch of color was a pink handkerchief in his breast pocket.
He was reading and opening her letters. Most were invitations to balls, teas, and parties; others were reports from the duchy, and some were pleas and requests for help. "What do we do with all the gifts and presents? The entrance is full and the guards are refusing them entry,â he asked.
"We open them, of course." Celine got off the bed, slipping her feet into the fluffy slippers. She wrapped herself in a soft blanket. "I love the smell of bribery early in the morning; it always makes my day better," she said, dragging the blanket behind her.
Maya, her maid, quickly lifted the blanket so it wouldn't be dragged on the ground, moving like a little gray mouse trying not to draw any attention. Her straight bangs shadowed her eyes, hiding them like a secret, and she moved so silently that if one werenât looking closely, theyâd swear she wasnât even there.
â...â Patch, her physician, followed her with a chuckle. Tufts of curly, ginger hair stuck out from beneath his bandana, puffing up like sheepâs wool. He slipped a hand into his hide coat, rummaging through its many hidden pockets before pulling out a pair of gloves and putting them on.
Graham, her cook, was the tallest and the biggest of the four. His soft bob cut framed his round face, making his dimples stand out even more, giving him a strangely cheerful look no matter the situation. He fed Celine pieces of fruit on the way to the courtyard, while Seb continued to read the letters and messages.
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The guards were carrying in the large presents, placing them into the courtyard, next to the stone statue of a raven, where the gifts were already piling up. Celine received a variety of things, from jewels to unique paintings and everything in between.
Patch sorted the gifts into piles based on value and rarity, while also checking for any signs of poison.
"No name, no address, and no signature either," Seb said, eyeing the last two chests suspiciously.
One was wrapped in silk with a flower pattern tied together with a golden string, while the other looked like a normal wooden chest, the kind that sailors would use to carry their belongings.
Patch opened the second chest, his eyes shining at the sight. "Whoever sent it, I like their style," he said, lifting a bag, causing whatever was inside to hiss and rattle. He quickly opened the bag to reveal a couple of snakes, "Woah, so beautiful and vibrant."
"Must taste as good as they look," Graham licked his lips, "Snake soup is good for the health, Lady Celine. I could make some for you to try, if you'd like," he offered.
Celine's interest also sparked. "They are alive?" she asked, leaning closer to take a better look.
Patch opened a box next to the bag and revealed a huge spider.
She shuddered in disgust but didn't back away, "Is it alive too?"
"Alive and kicking," Patch said, chuckling, "They are probably hungry and thirsty."
Celine dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Give them the care they need, and if they are edible, add them to the menu," she said.
"Of course, Lady Celine," Patch called over a few guards, instructing them on what and how to feed them.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"Shall we see the rest?" Celine asked, turning to look at the last chest, her mood improving slightly.
Receiving dead, gruesomely mutilated animals used to be a regular occurrence during her academy life.
The anonymous losers would get so desperate they would send her packages with bloodied, headless pigeons, rodents, and etcetera. Instead of searching for the culprits, she would retaliate by infesting the dormitories with living versions of the same. One could find them in their beds, others in their baths, and closets.
They never bothered her again after that.
Seb untied the string and lifted the lid of the last chest, revealing ropes, whips, chains, and shackles, all neatly arranged, almost too elegantly for what they were. He didnât pay them much mind, though, instead picking up the note that rested on top. âMy beloved, I canât wait for our next encounter,â he read, his voice flat.
Celine's heart fluttered, not in a romantic way, but in a rather sick and twisted way. The content made her feel queasy. It was like the package was a mirror, and whoever sent it, had sent it to reflect a piece of her, at her.
Maya and Patch exchanged glances with Seb and Graham. It was their first time to witness Lady Celine being addressed with a title such as "My beloved", their first time seeing her receive a letter from an admirer, and their first time seeing her so disturbed.
They've only been serving her for the past three months after all.
Lady Celine picked them up when they were only twelve, but instead of serving her right away, they spent ten years living in a military environment as part of Rochefort's army, training to become her most trusted aides.
She thought the discipline, the training, and the experience would make them more reliable, and she wasn't wrong. They became as disciplined as any soldier, and efficient as any butler.
They had survived battles, wars, and death itself, having no qualms about taking a life.
It was also thanks to the four of them that the Duke of Rochefort barely made it back alive five years ago.
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Meanwhile...
Jax rubbed his eyes before looking through his binoculars again. The tree he was hiding in gave him a clear view of the villa and the surrounding area, including the courtyard. 'Who is that goddess wrapped in the blanket?'
Her long hair was loose, falling down her shoulders in a mess of waves. Her features were delicate, almost dollish, but the way she carried herself oozed regalness. One that made her look bigger than the world, and the world beneath her small and petty in comparison.
âLady Celine,â he read the words from one of her servants' lips and choked on air. He almost fell from the tree, his hands tightening around the branch he was sitting on.
Lady Celine?
The "Celine"?
The "She-devil"?
How? When? Why? What?
Jax's mouth hung open. Was it the lack of fine clothes, the simple hairstyle, or her clean face? How was this the same woman who was rumored to be a vile witch with a snake's tongue, a heart made of stone, and a soul that crawled out of the pits of hell?
He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it.
He continued to observe her reaction to his gift, her expressions, and her movements. The way she tilted her head to take a look, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she examined the snakes and the spider; her expression of disgust that lasted a fraction of a second before turning into amusement.
"Give them the care they need, and if they are edible, add them to the menu," he read her lips.
'She wants to eat them?!'
Jax's stomach churned. Alright, now he actually started to believe that she was the same wicked woman he met during the banquet. But, how could a person so gorgeous have such a foul character and strange appetite?
And then it was Lucian's gift turn. Her expression turned blank, the only thing that gave her thoughts away was the way she tightly pressed her lips together and the slight frown between her eyebrows.
It wasn't anger or disgust that she was feeling, it was something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. And then it hit him. It was recognition.
She recognized the owner of the gift, and she recognized the message behind it.
Jax was there when Lucian went through the darkest days of his life. He was there to see him fall apart, and to see him pick himself back up. He was the one who was there to see the worst of his friend's suffering, and to see the best of his achievements.
Lucian had always been secretive. He liked to keep his cards close to his chest, and even closer to his heart.
Most of the time, he would send his people to care for the nobles' gardens, but sometimes, he would take the job on himself for whatever reasons.
Jax gulped. Was there something between Lucian and Lady Celine, a secret they kept from the public?
All Jax knew was that she accused Lucian of stealing and lashed out on him until he collapsed in pain from his wounds. That was it.
There was no way for her to ever have a thing with a commoner much less with a bastard like Lucian, who had no status to his name. Right?
Lucian showed no interest in women either. Even now, he was helping Jax to take revenge for him, not because he cared about her.
That was right.
Maybe she didn't recognize the sender. Maybe she tortured so many poor souls in her lifetime her conscience was finally gnawing at her, and the guilt was eating her alive.
Yeah, that must have been it.
They didn't fit each other at all! There was no way those two had a history. No way.
Jax mentally slapped himself for having such a ridiculous thought that showed pure disrespect toward Lucian â he knew the man, and his tastes were far above anything as low as that. Lucian would never fall for a woman like Celine, he was smarter than that.
After watching Lady Rochefort for a while, Jax noticed that everyone seemed happy to serve her. Even the guards, who usually looked bored, had smiles on their faces as they moved the gifts, and her servants didn't look like they had to fear her.
It was pure respect, and maybe even admiration.
'What spells and mind control is she using on them?' Jax wondered, âAre they forcing themselves to act that way? Are they afraid that they would lose their job or something?â