Chapter 17: The order

Seeing Mr. Danver speaking to Beth for more than an hour now, Madeline decided to slip out of the house with dresses in her hand. Walking up to the shop, she saw Mr. Heathcliff, who was taking the measurements of a brunette woman who had come to stitch a dress. She waited until the woman finally left to be noticed by Mr. Heathcliif.

"Good afternoon, Miss Madeline," he greeted with a smile forming on his lips.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Heathcliff," she greeted back with a polite smile, "I came to return the dresses borrowed," she said that she had carried from her home to give it back. The man took the bag and then handed it to his assistant, "You can check for any wear and tear, but there's none," she assured him.

Mr. Heathcliff said, "I believe you. I don't know if I said this, but you looked beautiful last night," he did tell her, but Madeline took his compliment.

"It is because of your dress. They just happen to be pretty."

"I doubt as pretty as the girl who wore and brought out its charm," Mr. Heathcliff responded to her spontaneously, and Madeline's cheeks turned warm.

"You are too kind with your compliments, Mr. Heathcliff," she bowed her head in gratitude.

She wondered how to go about in telling him that she was going to be available as she didn't want to appear to be too forward in front of him. But somewhere she wondered if it was Mr. Heathcliif who she wanted to settle with.

Mr. Heathcliff noticed that she wanted to say something and asked, "Is something the matter?"

Madeline shook her head.

It was him who said, "You said you weren't free on Sunday and I failed to ask you, if you could spare some time on Saturday," Madeline blinked her eyes, "I hope I am not coming to be too pushy," he gave out an awkward laugh that had her smile.

"No. I mean, yes, I can make time on Saturday," Mr. Heathcliff gave her a nod.

"Nice. Okay, then."

Madeline gave him a bow, and he returned it, "Have a good day, Mr. Heathcliff."

"Have a good day, Miss Madeline."

Far away from the villages and towns where the forests were thick with trees, the castle stood tall and proud. A place where the lower beings were not allowed to step in and were to only look from afar, they had finally been invited last night to attend the ball of the Hallow, a celebration which was often called as Halloween by the lower class people.

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Even though no one had dared to break into the castle, guards stood at every end of the corridor. Servants moved to clean the floor, walls and the ballroom spotless.

In the main room, the King sat with his back against the cushioned throne that was fixed on a raised platform. He sat leaning to his left, one elbow resting on the armrest with his hand that was supported by his index finger. A maid sat down at his throne, massaging his leg with his shoe that was placed on her thigh.

"My King, I assure you the rumours you have heard is untrue," a man had sat down on one of his knees with his head bowed, "It must a falsified statement to put me up against you," the man had a mixture of black and grey hair on his head. A square face that had turned old in time that he appeared to look in his fifties. Four men stood behind him, his trusted men,

The man then looked up at the King who was looking at him with, unsmilingly,

"There must be many enemies of yours to spread rumours like that," said Calhoun with a leisure tone and he picked up the glass that another maid was holding in her hand, "How unfortunate that an old man is being seen as a threat, Marcel," he hummed, his eyes looking at the man with amusement in his eyes.

Marcel's eyes hardened by the King's words, but he didn't speak a word. Instead, he smiled to have the King smile back at him,

"I am not going to perform treason. Not against your highness who is smart and intelligent-" said the man who got cut off by Calhoun, who said,

"If you and the others understand it, we shouldn't have a problem," said Calhoun with a smile were his lips pulled wide, as if to mock at the man who kneeled in front of him, "But then it makes me question where the rumours spark from. Don't you question it yourself, Marcel?" he moved his finger around the edge of his glass without taking a sip from it.

"Milord, they are trying to set me up. I will not change the order in the court counting. I have no motive to do it," the older man continued to pledge his loyalty.

Calhoun didn't bother to hide his thoughts, and he said, "Only time would tell of how loyal of the man you are, after all, you have been serving the King for far too long. The previous King. Without any intention, of course, I value a subject as yourself," he smiled before raising his hand to dismiss the man.

When the man left, Theodore who had come to stand next to Calhoun, said,

"We caught the man who was helping Marcel in selling information about the military to the next land. Marcel has not only been trading information to dethrone you but he's trying to win the favour of the other lands to replace you."

Calhoun took a sip from the glass, his voice calm, "I hope you are being hospitable with the man," and in the King's words, it meant courting traitors in the dark dungeon who were tied and twisted, tortured to the point where they wanted to die.

"Yes, milord," answered Theodore, "Just as you would want them to be treated. I also received information about the girl and the man you asked."

"Tell me," ordered Calhoun, a glint of interest in his eyes over the girl he had met.

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