Bab 3: Children of the wealthy

A carriage entered the town of Crowbury at a steady pace. Four horses pulled the carriage made with fine oak decorated in luxurious gold patterns. The rhythmic humming of the wheels came to a stop a short walk away from the town's fair taking place today.

The coachman jumped from his seat with a stool in hand.

Though he was a lower-class man, he wore a fine white shirt with a clean black coat and trousers . As one of the two coachmen responsible for driving his employer's carriage, he was required to dress decently.

Quickly placing the stool on the ground in front of the carriage door, he opened it with his hand stretched outward to offer support for the person inside.

A young girl stepped onto the stool, and though the hand of the coachman was offered, she chose not to use it. She appeared no older than nine years of age, yet her steps and slight movements carried an obvious disdain. Her pale skin was clean of the usual filth and grime found on children of the lower class, and her long, black hair was braided into an elegant knot crowning the top of her head.

This was his Young Miss, Miss Marceline.

As she took a second step forward, her long, silk dress hindered her leg, and she tripped.

"Young Miss!"

The coachman came to her aid, but before he could catch her, she abruptly regained her footing and stood straight on her feet, behaving as if she had never tripped.

"Don't shout, Briggs. You will bring us unnecessary attention," Marceline spoke in a polite voice while she straightened her dress. "Also…move back. You're standing too close."

Briggs moved two steps behind her, ensuring he was not in her space. He bowed his head, "My apologies, Young Miss."

"It is because I am kind that I forgive you," came the dismissive voice of the young miss.

"You wouldn't have to forgive him if you looked where you're walking."

A young boy, older than the girl by two years, placed a polished shoe onto the stool and alighted the carriage. He wore a thick black coat with ebony fox fur around its neckline. The luster of his silver hair complimented the dark grey clouds in the sky. His eyes revealed annoyance, and the way he carried himself held far more disdain than Marceline.

Marceline was slightly embarrassed by her older brother's words. "It's not my fault! Mrs. Garrette made the front of the dress too long," she blamed the seamstress.

The boy stared at his younger sister, who smiled at him sweetly, and he rolled his eyes. He ordered their coachman, Mr. Briggs, "Park the carriage."

"I will return shortly," Mr. Briggs replied with a bow.

The siblings did not wait for the servant, and they walked towards the town's fair. Marceline's eyes brightened at the sight of the vast number of merchants selling various unique items. Though the siblings were already acquainted with many of the rarer or expensive items, most of the cheaper goods were things they had never seen or tasted, producing a feeling of novelty for the brother and sister pair.

Marceline hastened to check the other stalls, holding her head high while her brother followed after her.

"Vince! Look at that doll!" She pointed her finger at a specific stall. She ran towards the stall, standing amid the other young girls. The ones in front were fairly dressed like her while the rest flocked around the toy shop.

The silver-haired boy's footsteps were firm and more calculated than his sister. Barely interested in the fair, Vincent kept a distance from the people and what they had to offer. If it were not for his sister's insistence, he would not have deigned to step into such a crowded and filthy place.

But it was not just him but also the others who kept a distance from the boy with the striking colour hair and air of high nobility.

"That one! And the one on the right. And the one next to it!" Vincent heard Marceline's excited voice through the loud bustling of the crowd, ordering the stall's merchant to bring the dolls to her.

"Spoilt little brat," Vincent murmured under his breath.

Marceline made the merchant bring every doll out for her, causing him to feel annoyed. If the girl was not dressed in such an expensive-looking silk dress, he would have shooed the little girl away for wasting his time and interfering with his business.

He looked at the boisterous crowd of middle and lower class people around the stall, leaving little room for him to maneuver through.

"Tch," he clicked his tongue in annoyance and decided not to make his way through the concentrated numbers of inferior beings. Hopefully, she would soon be satisfied looking at the dolls and leave.

With his sister busy, Vincent decided to take a walk around the place while steering clear of the crowds where the men, women and children with tattered clothes were concentrated.

His parents had always brought him and his sister to places where people matched them, both in kind and status.

The weather had chilled further, and he noted a few peasants far away from the boundaries of the fair, huddled around a fire burning in an oil drum. Homeless, such people would soon die because of the worsening winter and cold that would arrive in the next few days.

His gaze passed a stall that sold hot buns. Though it smelt fresh and delectable, it was not enough to entice him to go and take a bite. His eyes momentarily fell on two upper class families who stood in front of the stall, speaking to the merchant.

As Vincent looked away, his eyes caught a scrawny little thing hovering near the edge of the hot bun stall.

It was a little girl who stood out like a sore thumb compared to the people near the merchant.

She wore a puffy, black coat with multiple sewn patches that he deduced were naively stuffed with some type of cheap wool to protect against the cold and winds. Such a homemade hand-me-down must have been crafted by the poorest of commoners, unable to afford the simplest and cheapest of snowpig leather coats which would have doubled or even tripled her protection from the cold.

Despite the patchwork job, it was not tattered like the other peasant children's clothes. Also, the girl's appearance was too clean and her skin was unordinarily smooth for a commoner, perhaps smoother than his sister's and mother's..

Regardless, one's appearance was never enough to change one's status.

The girl hungrily eyed the buns as if it were the most delicious food she had ever set her sight on. But he knew they were merely regular buns, probably inferior in taste to the ones he would dine on at home.

The little girl reached out for the bun, and Vincent clicked his tongue for the second time in the day.

"Fool," he muttered because someone caught her hand before she could touch a bun.

The merchant, who had been talking and gushing over one of his customers, had caught something moving from the corner of his eye. His eyes narrowed, and he was quick to catch Eve's little wrist.

Eve was not taught to steal, but with the frigid cold and her increasing hunger, the warm food in front of her had made her mouth water. She had not meant to steal it and only reached out impulsively, and now that she was caught, she was petrified.

"You little rat!" the merchant sneered at the little girl, his tone completely different from when he was speaking with his customers, "Did you think you were going to steal it without my knowledge?!"

Little Eve shook her head, "I didn't mean to," came her small voice, "I didn't touch them!"

"But you were going to steal one, weren't you?"

The merchant glared at her in anger.

As if the merchant's glare was not enough, many of the people nearby, turned to watch the little scene play out.

A noble woman stated to her partner, "This is why we need a clear distinction and place to separate people like us from the likes of them. They'll Pounce on any opportunity like a bunch of thieves and criminals."

"Such a young girl, and already picking up such atrocious behavior. She should be reprimanded immediately. Where are her parents?" asked a second person.

"She's probably an orphan," commented another.

"Is she?" inquired a man whose wavy hair was combed to the side, an eerie smile etched on his lips. "She can be of some use then."

Vincent, who stood there quietly, heard the adults that shared his social status speak about the little girl, whilst the merchant held onto the terrified little girl. He knew a few things regarding what happens to the poor abducted by the upper class, especially young children.

Little Eve wanted to get back home, and she would have fled by now if the merchant had not been gripping her hand tight enough to leave a noticeable bruise around her wrist.

"Please forgive me," little Eve apologized and bowed her head obsequiously, "I meant no harm."

"Not so easy, little rat. Who knows what other things you've stolen from here," the merchant looked down at her.

She could hear the crowd around her erupt in whispers, casting looks of judgment and blame.

Some of them agreed to check the girl before sending her away from here.

Little Eve was scared, and she wished her mother was there. She tried hard to pull her hand out of the man's grip, but it was not enough. As she pulled harder, the smug merchant loosened his hold, and she fell onto the cold, snow-covered ground.

The man with the creepy smile and wavy hair stepped forward and stated in a benevolent tone, "I shall take the girl to the magistrate and see if he knows her. Who knows what other sins she has committed?!"

Little Eve's bottom was in pain because of the way she had fallen, but she was too frightened to care. She was worried that if she was taken away, she would be unable to see her mother again.

She wanted to cry, but she stopped herself from doing so. She bit her lip to hold it in.

Her mother had told her never to cry in front of people, no matter the circumstance. Her heart was growing anxious with the increasing number of eyes on her.

But before the man could drag her away, a silver-haired boy appeared in front of her.

"Stop right there," Vincent ordered as he stepped forward.

The wavy-haired man was annoyed that someone had stopped him, but when he turned around, his displeasure turned into surprise, "Young master Moriarty, what a pleasant surprise! Are you here with your parents?" inquired the man, looking past the boy with an ingratiating smile.

"Who are you?" Vincent questioned bluntly, and the smile on the man's face fell.

The man cleared his throat, fixing the fallen expression on his face, "Young master, I am Declan Halston. We met at Lady Georgiana Winston's manor."

"I don't remember you," responded the boy, and though young, it was obvious that the boy disdained the man as if he were mud beneath his shoes. "If you could step away from my servant now."

"Your servant?" Declan examined Eve with a hint of doubt in his eyes.

"Yes. Move," came the direct command, and though Declan disliked Vincent's attitude, he stepped away because of the young boy's family name.

To everyone's surprise, the boy had offered his hand to her.

The man named Declan huffed and asked, "You aren't planning to pick her up, are you? A young man of your status, shouldn't—"

Ignoring the noble, the boy turned to look at the merchant and stated, "You have damaged what belongs to the Moriarty family. Would you like to pay it with an apology or would you like to be reprimanded for it by losing your business?"

"My apologies, Mr. Moriarty," the merchant bowed his head, "but I did catch her stealing my—"

"She didn't lay a finger on it. Aren't you assuming the worst?" Vincent shut down his accusation, and the merchant murmured an apology.

The spectators of the town, who were looking at the scene, lost interest as quickly as they had gained it and returned to what they were doing before.

"Are you planning to sit there all day?" This time, his question was directed at the girl.

It was the first time little Eve had seen someone with silver hair. His clothes looked warm and cozy, and he wore a subtle frown on his face.

Her mother had told her, 'Stay away from the fancy-looking ones as they might steal you away from me.'

And while she was busy looking at his nice clothes and shiny shoes, the silver-haired boy glared at her.

Here he was, the young master of the illustrious Moriarty family, offering his hand to help her up, a hand he would never offer to others, and this ungrateful girl did not make an effort to reach for it.

When she saw his eyes narrow, little Eve sensed danger and quickly reached for his hand.

The people around them slowly dispersed, leaving the two young children on their own.

Little Eve felt her hand being pulled up, and she quickly stood on her feet.

"Follow me," came the curt words of the silver-haired boy. He did not give her time to answer, especially after he had proclaimed that she was a house servant.

He shifted his hand to her wrist and dragged her away from the stall and other onlookers.

The boy held onto the same area the merchant had grasped before and bruised her. She winced in pain from the boy's grip.

Eve did not know if she was in trouble again, so she tugged her hand back to no avail. She felt the chain of events continued to pressure her one after the other and that she would certainly never see her mother again.

Though the boy did not let go of her hand, he did stop walking.

When he looked at her, he noticed her eyes were moist, and a single teardrop escaped from one of her blue eyes. The tear slid down her cheek, and his eyes widened in surprise when he noticed the tear turn into something solid.

"Vince!" He heard his sister call him, distracting him for a moment.

But before he knew it, the little girl bit right into his hand, and he flinched away from her!

"Ouch!"

With the boy releasing her hand, Eve ran away from there as fast as her little feet could take her in the direction of home, not looking for even a moment.

The boy was taken aback by the tear more than the bite he had just received.

His eyes fell on the snowy ground, and there, at his feet, laid a smooth and shiny pearl. He picked it up in his hand, and before his sister could see it, he slipped it into his pocket.

"Who was that?" asked Marceline, her eyes following the girl who obviously belonged to a lower class.

"Did she harm you, Master Vincent?" the coachman accompanying Marceline asked full of concern.

"It was no one," replied the boy.

Remembering he had held the hand of a person who was beneath him, he grew annoyed. He ordered the coachman, "Bring the carriage to the front. I am going home."

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KIRIM HADIAH

Bab 4: Obligations

Music Recommendation: Snow- Ben Frost

Little Eve held her hand close to her chest while her little feet tried to get away from the fair and the scary townsfolk.

Reaching home, Eve closed and locked the door. Her little heart beating loudly in her chest, she moved towards the window to look outside the house, if someone had followed her. Her blue eyes continued to search before she finally gave up.

Her stomach growled. Hunger had been induced in her since her eyes had fallen on the hot bun, and she softly gulped.

'Meow,' came the sound from the corner of the room.

Little Eve turned alert, trying to find where the sound came from.

'Meow.' A little tabby cat appeared near the table, swishing its tail in the air.

"A cat!" Exclaimed the little girl in delight, quickly forgetting what had taken place in the fair. At her excitement, the cat turned startled and stared at her. "Here, kitty kitty kitty..." she tried to lure it towards her.

The cat didn't look at her, and instead, it jumped on the nearby chair and then on the table. It came near the plate that had Eve's lunch, which her mother had prepared.

"Are you hungry too?" Asked Eve, noticing the cat sniffing the plate that was covered.

She went to the table and moved the lid—a piece of meat, potatoes, and a loaf of bread prepared last evening. The cat was quick to sniff the meat, ready to take a bite, but the little girl placed her finger between the cat and the meat.

"Mama says you have to share food," She tore the meat into two pieces. She offered the cat the meat and watching it eat it. Little Eve stared at it with a smile on her face. "Will you come here everyday?" She asked the cat, who was busy eating.

But the cat was greedy and eyed her hand that held the other half of the meat. It hissed at her, and before she knew it, the cat scratched her hand. This resulted in Eve dropping the meat. Startled, her hand pushed the plate, and it fell to the ground with a clatter.

The cat jumped from the table, quickly snatching the meat from the ground before escaping from the window.

"Wait!" Little Eve called the cat, and her heart sunk in her chest.

All alone again, she picked up the potatoes and the bread from the ground. Putting it back on the plate, she started to eat it.

Far away from the town of Crowbury and Brokengroves, there were other towns that consisted of manors that belonged to the wealthy families. While Skellington town tried to be tolerable to people from the lower status, the wealthy side of the land looked at the middle and lower class folks as bugs and worms that needed to be trampled.

In one of the manors and one of the bed chambers, the lamp-lit dimly, but the fireplace was bright enough to shed light.

A naked woman sat upright on the bed, pulling the covers around her used body. Hearing the rustle of clothes in the room, she turned to notice the man wearing his trousers. He then picked up his shirt.

"My family isn't going to be back until the weekend. You should stay the night," the man let her know, a smirk on his lips. "I will pay you twice the price."

Hearing she would be paid twice the amount, it was alluring. The debt that had been increasing over the last few years, she would be able to repay a little more of it.

But she couldn't take up the man's offer.

Rebecca politely smiled and replied, "Thank you, but I need to be home tonight. My daughter—"

"Yes, your daughter. I keep forgetting you have one," he chuckled, picking up the cigarette case from the table. He took one of the cigars and lit it up, taking a large swig, while watching the beautiful woman. "I don't think I have seen her before. You should bring her around. I would definitely want to get acquainted with her, it will be easier to do business in the future," he said, turning behind to reach for the ashtray.

The smile on the woman's face faltered, and her face turned stiff at the man's words. She was here out of circumstances, and she wished and prayed for her daughter to not have the same fate as her.

With careful words, she replied, "I wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation, Sire. If people were to see her here."

"You do not have to worry about it. She can come through the backdoor like you do," stated the man. "Don't tell me that you are trying to hide her because she is more beautiful than you," he looked straight at her, and Rebecca felt sweat form on her back.

Though Rebecca made money by selling her body to make a living, she had tried to keep the dirty claws of these vultures away from her precious daughter.

The man walked towards where she was sitting, leaning forward to come face to face with her. He said, "It will be a while again when I am free from work, and my family members are not home. How about this, I will pay you thrice for two days," he raised his fingers to emphasize his words.

Rebecca's eyes slightly widened, as she had never been offered this amount of money before. More money meant the debt collector wouldn't harass her or her daughter. And maybe she could even spend some time with Eve.

It was just two days, and she would have to worry less about being far away from her daughter. What could go wrong in those two days? She asked herself.

"Okay," replied the woman.

The man looked extremely pleased, knowing exactly how to twist people from the lower class. All he had to do was offer money, and they would do anything. He internally smirked at it.

Rebecca wore her clothes and was returned to the spot where she had been picked up this morning in the carriage. The sky had turned dark, the weather colder than the morning, almost as if she would have frostbite if it weren't for the shawl wrapped around her shoulders. But that didn't stop her from shivering.

With the time of Winter here, most of the streets looked deserted, with not many outside.

Somewhere, she was glad. Glad that the weather was harsh enough to send the people to their houses, reducing the eyes and the gossip from the people who lived here. But when she reached her home, she hoped for the weather to show mercy on her daughter, who was curled in a blanket on the floor.

Closing the door, the woman made her way to where Eve laid. Bending down, she gently caressed the little girl's head.

Eve woke up, her blue eyes opening to see her mother.

"Mama, you are back," came the muddled voice of the little girl.

Eve didn't know when she fell asleep, only that she had started to feel terribly cold and had ended up crawling into the blanket. Happy to see her mother, she got out of the blanket and wrapped her small hands around her mother's neck.

Rebecca might have lost respect in front of society, but having Eve next to her, she forgot the despair and the way society looked at her as nothing more than someone who sold her body. She hugged her daughter, patting the back of Eve's head. Feeling her daughter cling to her more than usual, she asked,

"Were you alright today, Eve?"

"Mm," answered the little girl, burying her head in the crook of her mother's neck.

"I brought you some things that you might like," said Rebecca, pulling away from her daughter. But when she took a look at Eve's face, the little one was fast asleep in her arms.

The woman laid her daughter back on the mat and then lay next to her. Pulling the blanket over them, she covered them. Little Eve was quick to snuggle into her mother's arms and fall sound asleep with her mother softly humming something.

Eve had lost her father before her father had the opportunity to hold her in his arms. He was a handsome and kind man who had brought Rebecca to the shore. He loved her very much, and she loved him back. She doubted she could love anyone the way she loved him.

But one day, he was killed brutally. Rebecca had witnessed her lover being killed by men. She remembered the day well as if it had happened a few minutes ago. She stood behind the tall barrel, covering her mouth with her hands to not let the sobs escape and be heard by the other humans.

She looked at Eve's sleeping face, where her lips were slightly parted and her expression filled with innocence. Rebecca knew that her daughter was different. Special like her father.

She had taken a lot of care when raising Eve, making sure people didn't find out what or who she truly was. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips gently on top of her daughter's head.

"I hope you have good dreams, my child. Grow up wise, move up in status, and live a comfortable life. A respectful one. But most importantly," she whispered to Eve. "Be happy."

When it was morning, Eve was bathed and dressed, and so was her mother, who had packed their clothes for the two-day stay. Stepping out of the house, the woman locked the door.

One of their neighbours, who caught sight of the bag in Rebecca's hand, commented, "Good riddance. It looks like the shame is moving away from near our house."

Rebecca bowed slightly to greet the woman, who looked appalled that she had grown a thick skin. The woman turned her face and got back inside her house.

"Mama?" Eve called her mother. "Are we going for a picnic?"

Noticing her mother stretching her hand towards her, the little girl was quick to hold it. Her mother said, "We are going to a manor today, and we'll be staying there for two days. Your mama has work."

"In the manor?" Asked Eve, her big blue eyes staring at her mother while they began to walk.

"Yes, my dearest. And once my work is done, let us go out. Just us," promised her mother, and Eve looked happy at her mother's words. "Okay?"

Eve eagerly nodded.

"Now remember, do not step out of the room. Stay away from trouble and wait for me to come and get you. We do not want to cause any trouble to anyone, do we?" Her mother's voice was gentle as she spoke to her.

"No," came the small voice of Eve.

Before they could reach the end of the road, a carriage with two horses appeared and halted for them. Rebecca squeezed her daughter's little hand, offering her a smile to assure her that she would be with her.

But only fate knew what was in store for them and the danger they were walking into.

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