Frederique inhaled deeply and exhaled reassuringly, the scent of the seawater doesn’t seem to bother her. She yawned and stretched her arms all the way up, a beautiful way to wake up on-board for an adventurous girl like her. Afterwards, she recomposed herself and walked slowly towards the forecastle of the ship. She closed her eyes, as she got closer to it, she savored the very moment the sea gulls would sing to her. The birds won’t do it upon demand; they do it upon their own free will. She spread her arms wide, allowing the wind to caress her body clothed in a long sleeved white ruffled blouse and a black silky skirt that flowed down to her ankles and tall brown boots. The soft wind gently blew her long side braided amber hair. For her, this feeling was . . . Ecstasy. Until,
“MS. FREDERIQUE!” a loud voice called her. Although it sounds irritating, it still gave her the hint of urgency.
She frowned and faced the voice direction. She catches a glimpse of a rushing figure, a running person. The figure was fast; she can hear the huffing of that person. As it came nearer, she finally realized that it’s the newly hired butler, Rome.
“Milady, I apologize for the interruption.” Said Rome, while wiping the sweat across his forehead with a white towel.
Frederique sighed, “What is it Rome?” she asked.
Rome composed himself. “I bring letters, one for you and one for master Simon.” He replied, handing out two envelopes with different seals, one with the cross swords seal of the Middleford family and one with the serpent seal of the . . . Dalton family.
Frederique gave out a quizzical look and hastily took the letter with the Dalton seal on it. She walked away until Rome called her again. “Miss! The other letter.”
She flushed out of embarrassment; she completely forgot to take notice of the other letter because of her excitement out of the letter addressed to her. She ran to Rome and quickly snatched the letter from his hands and ran back to the cabin, to Simon’s room.
“Dalton?” asked Simon as he took the letter addressed to him.
Frederique sighed out of frustration. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgot about him?!” she replied.
Simon shrugged as he opened his letter. “I’ll try to refresh my memory while reading this one, but before that kindly go outside. I would like to read this letter unaccompanied.” He pleaded.
“Fine, if you say so.” Said Frederique and left the room, leaving Simon alone.
As the door closed, he quickly ripped the envelope and took out the yellow paper from the inside. He unfolded it and read the first letters he saw, “Dear, Master Simon,”
. . . It’s from Sebastian.
Simon sat down and carefully read the letter.
Dear, Master Simon
I have heard that you are on your way to Paris. Indeed, people in this estate never miss news from your quest. I wish you all the best, may the gods from above grant you everything you’ll need for this expedition. Now, I won’t be beating around the bushes, I know where the Isoldes are. And it is for you to know what kind of clues I have given you for your leave. But, I shall give you the whereabouts of the first Isolde you must find.
A useful resource told me that you could find her in Paris, France. In the small, abandoned village of Foucault. You must be wary about the environment and taciturn at all times. Kindly inform Miss Eisenheim about my precautions. Until, you have found Miss Rosienna shall the both of you return to your ordinary selves.
May the best of good luck be with you,
Your humble servant,
After reading it, Simon fell down to his knees. He doesn’t know how to thank Sebastian for all the things he have done for him, even on the verge of forgetting about his own good. “Sebastian . . . Thank you.” He muttered and went back up to his feet.
“Pray, who is the one you wrote for?” asked Amelia, putting her epee back to place. She sat next to Vincent and leaned against the hard wood of her ship, Andromeda.
Vincent sighed and closed his eyes as if he was drifting to sleep. “No one you should know.” He replied.
Amelia frowned and clenched her fist tightly. After a few seconds, she recomposed herself and cleared her throat. “Vincent, you have swore and oath that you will tell everything to me and you stated that you are the kind of man that goes by his rule. So, I wish to know who is that person.” She said.
The raven black haired young lad opened his dull grey eyes and faced Amelia. He gave her a distinct dirty look, “Indeed, I go by my own rules, and those rules are my oaths. I wish I could answer your question but, unfortunately, I have promised that person to never tell anyone about his or her identity before I have signed the contract of our alliance.” He replied.
Amelia pursed her lips and gave Vincent a mocking smirk. “Do you speak as a rule in an alliance?”
“No, I prefer to be discreet and taciturn. In fact, may I comment, that this alliance is in form of superiority. I formed this alliance because of my own reasons and I am aware that you’re likewise, but milady the way you view this union is very wrong. Respect my decisions and petitions; if I say no then stop insisting. No one is the master in this alliance, and if someone was, it’ll never be you.” Said Vincent in a calm voice he had trouble maintaining.
Amelia clenched her fists and punched the wall next to Vincent; the vibration it made was strong, very unusual for a lady. “And those a words of man? I even thought that you were a gentleman ought to be! But I was proven wrong.” She replied and stormed out of the room, slamming the wooden door closed.
Vincent returned to his dull, expressionless face and shrugged. “She thought I was a young man ought to be? What does she mean by that?” he wondered aloud.
Frederique walked back and forth outside Simon’s cabin, waiting for the latter to open the door and allow her inside. He’s taking way too long that the young lady became impatient and knocked loudly, “Simon, open the door!” she began to hear the sound of his footsteps muffled by the closed door and she sighed contentedly.
Seconds later, the door opened, revealing Simon whose happiness was barely concealed. Frederique raised her eyebrow at the blonde lad. Simon nodded in understanding and smirked.
“I know where the first Isolde can be located.”
Frederique’s eyes widened. She fought back a gasp and looked at Simon evenly, trying to hide her shock and confusion. “Are you sure, Simon?” she asked. He nodded and offered her the letter. She carefully took it in her hands and read it. Her eyes narrowed as she drew closer to finishing it. When done, she shook her head and gave the letter back to Simon.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry evident in his voice.
“Are you… sure about that?” her voice was quiet, unsure. Simon’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Of course. I wholeheartedly trust Sebastian.”
“But… did he send the same letter to Amelia as well?” when Simon did not reply, she continued. “The question would not really be if he sent the letter to Amelia as well. The truthfulness isn’t as well. Lies and betrayals are to be expected. However the real question is if he did not give Amelia a letter containing the whereabouts of the Isolde. Why would Sebastian give you that crucial information and not Amelia? I—“
“Rome!” Simon called loudly, cutting Frederique off. Moments later, the butler arrived before them. “Tell the captain, we must be in Paris tomorrow.” Rome nodded and hurriedly went to the captain. Frederique opened her mouth to speak but was cut off once more by Simon.
“My dear Frederique, Sebastian has been my tutor for quite some time. And one of the most valuable things he taught me was never miss an opportunity wherein you might learn something.”
Frederique sighed and rubbed her temples. “Whatever you say,” she said to her smirking friend. “If we get in trouble, the blame’s on you.” She smirked back.
Simon laughed, “Then ready a few ships to return to London, I’m not sailing you back home.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is.” Frederique nodded mockingly. “After all those things I have done for you, even telling Christina---”
“Don’t be daft! You can shut it now.” Simon cut her off. Frederique broke free from his grasp and catches her breath. The two, later on, broke into laughter. The good moment could’ve been completed . . . if Amelia was with them.
In a dark, isolated village of Foucault, there lies the tattered remnant of the formerly famous Misanthrope manor. Once breathtakingly beautiful but now, it would give chills down the spine of visitors. But now, no visitors came to visit the fallen family nobles, for there are no friends or relatives dare to visit them.
Inside the manor, in the large, eerie parlor, a young raven-haired lad sat caressing the silvery hair of a youthful and stunning lady. But, despite her handsome face, her eyes were the most distinguishable . . . it showed no life. Her ‘dead’ grey eyes stared at nowhere while the young lad caressed any part of her body for his own pleasure. “I shall do my best to avoid your vital parts.” Said the young lad in a seductive purr.
But he received none from the young lady. She just laid there continuing to stare at nowhere but the demolished violin. The young lad seems to notice where she was staring, so he lifted her chin up to his eye leve. “My dearest, pray stop staring at thatthing. At least lay your eyes on me, just one time.” But yet again, he received no response from her. He tittered and enslaved her in a tight hug. “My precious, you’re mine now. I will never let anyone touch you with their dirty hands, you are perfectly safe with me. Simon and Amelia shall fail without you, once they do, I’ll get Frederique too. No one will take you from me, my Isolde Rosienna.”