Dawn spilled over Velmoria like liquid gold, slipping past lace curtains and dancing upon the polished oak floors of Lady Priscilla's door and the lady who stood before it and rapped her hand in a knock.
"Coming!" Malorie said from the inside, approaching the door with meaningful haste. When she looked over the peephole and saw her Mama standing regally before the door, disappointment washed over her like rain in winter, but she schooled her expression into one of faux smile before she opened the door. "Mama!" She welcomed and embraced the woman in a warm hug. "I was not expecting you."
"Surprise surprise?" Cynthia chuckled. Priscilla came out of the kitchen and the two women met halfway towards the living room.
"Cynthia dear." Priscilla greeted, hugging her friend and leaving an air kiss on both her cheeks.
"Priscilla darling." Cynthia returned
Priscilla led the women to sit. She sat beside Cynthia while Malorie sat on the flowery clothed couch. "how have you been?"
"I have been faring well. Ethan is just being a cad." Cynthia sighed then her gaze drifted to Malorie. "You are disappointed it it not him, are you not?"
Malorie widened her eyes then shook her head immediately. "no, certainly not. I am happy to see you, Mama!"
"I know," Cynthia breathed then stood up and met Malorie on the couch.
"I am preparing breakfast. Have your lovely mother daughter time, I will be back in a jiffy." She winked at the ladies before making her way to the kitchen.
"He has not written back?" Cynthia queried.
Malorie slumped her shoulder with a nod. "he has not. I don't not know if something happened to him. I am worried. It is unlike Lorien to ignore my missive for more than a day. And it's been two now."
Cynthia sighed. She didn't know what she was expecting, bit she knew what her dear Malorie was. She was expecting Lorien to come and take her away from this situation. The young vampire not sending a letter back signified something was wrong. And Malorie did not want to think the worst.
She did not want to think that Lorien had abandoned her. No, it could not happen.
"What do you suggest we do? We only have power to send out letters. And you know Ethan needs not hear that we are sending the father of your unborn baby letters."
Malorie listened to her mama's words. She talked right, but currently, her mind could not different what was right and desperate. "I..." She started fiddling her dress, a telltale sign of her nervousness. "I have an idea."
"I am listening."
"I..." She took a deep breath. Stuttering when she was nervous was not new. It was something she tried hard to get rid of. "I wish to go to the east."
Cynthia showed no reactions at first. Letting Malorie's words sink in before she widened her eyes. "Do not be silly, Malorie!" She admonished.
"I love him Mama! I... I cannot live with the fact that Lorien is not answering my letters." Malorie cried out.
"The young man might be busy, you young lady! The letter might have gotten lost in the way of delivery. Do not throw yourself into danger for a man." Cynthia breathed out, heaving heavily.
"He is not just a man, Mama, he is a man that I love. The father of the child I am going to have." Cynthia did not respond, she let her finish because she knew she had more to say. "I sent three other letters. Are you going to assumethey got lost on the way too?"
"Malorie," Cynthia spoke calmly, reaching out to hold Malorie's hand that kept fiddling with her gown. "think this through. I am your mother and I know what is best for you. Do not go to the east, we do not even know anyone from the east!"
"I know Lorien." Cynthia sighed. She knew at this moment she could not convince Malorie, she needed her to call down. She knew what this was.
Desperation.
It was the same look she had for Ethan that night. Only if she knew what a demon he was, she would not have begged, and she did not want Malorie to follow that road.
"We will talk about this when next I come, Malorie. And you had better be here when next I come." Cynthia warned and Malorie nodded. Although the children were lovely, the one thing they acquired from their father asides their eye colour was hidden stubbornness.
"You brought us fruit " Malorie said, desiring to change the subject, her eyes lingered on the bag of fruits her Mama had brought with her.
"Yes. Clare said apples, pears and oranges are good for the baby's health." Cynthia responded, moving over to the bags. She lifted them up and placed on the middle wooden table.
"That is thoughtful." Priscilla praised, beginning to set the dining table which was a few feet away from the living room. Malorie got up immediately to assist her. "I have been feeding Malorie very fine. Remember I was once a physician." She winked at Cynthia, walking back inside the kitchen.
"Show off." Cynthia rolled her eyes with a small smile. She got up and approached the dining room the same time as Priscilla. "I would have loved to stay for breakfast, but I need to go to the market."
"You go to the market?" Priscilla asked, simply shocked. Her eyes drifted to Malorie but she didn't look shocked, a telling that it was not the first time and it most probably will not be the last. "Why do you go to the market yourself when your husband has maids and servants?"
"My husband, Priscy, I am only his wife." Cynthia sighed.
"But being his wife means you are his grand duchess and have control over his employees." Priscilla argued.
"Do not worry about it, auntie. It is always how it has been. Papa do not like us welding control over his servants." Malorie shrugged then turned to her mother. "I will letter you soon, Mama. Do take care of yourself."
"Take care of yourself as well, sweetie." Cynthia pulled Mal into her for a hug. "I will visit you whenever next I have time."
"Yes." Malorie nodded and walked Cynthia to the gate even though the latter told her not to. Cynthia gave her daughter one last gig before leaving the gate. Malorie watched as her mother climbed into the carriage and watched the the horses dragged the vehicles away. She sighed, knowing what she was about to do next will not gain the support of anyone she has known.
"I am sorry, Mama."