Chapter 73: Pain and Porcelain

Chapter 73: Pain and PorcelainAriana remained seated as she watched the lady move toward Leah. She said something Ariana couldn’t quite hear. Her hands moved to the cup, and her eyes widened. It wasn’t like the glass cups they had back home—the ones that felt like carrying a heavy rock. This one was delicate, light... fragile. She lifted it slightly, curious, trying to get a better look. But then—her eyes flew wide open as a sharp, unbearable pain shot through her veins, traveling down into her hands. Her fingers released the cup instantly. It fell, shattering loudly against the floor. Her breathing grew heavy as she stared at the broken pieces in shock. Just like that, the pain vanished. She blinked, her voice barely a whisper in her mind. ’W...what just happened?’ Leah rushed to her, worry thick in her tone. "Queen Ariana, are you okay?" she asked, her face filled with concern as she searched Ariana’s hands for any sign of injury. Ariana nodded, her eyes still fixed on her palm in disbelief. But she managed to compose her expression. Leah hesitated for a second before stepping out in a hurry. Not long after, two maids arrived in haste and began cleaning the mess. Lady Elle watched the Queen with subtle worry, then bowed politely. "Your Grace, if you wish, we could reschedule for tomorrow," she offered, her voice smooth with elegance. Ariana shook her head. She didn’t know what that pain had been, but now it was gone—as if it had never happened. "Very well, then," Lady Elle said with a small nod, stepping toward the table, her gaze briefly scanning the jugs. "I am fluent in sign language, Your Grace. May I have your permission to use it?" Ariana’s eyes widened slightly, then she nodded. This woman was indeed well-trained. Her poise and behavior were... impressive. "There are different kinds of tea. Would you like the green herbal tea?" Lady Elle asked. Ariana’s lips curled slightly in a graceful smile as she signed, "Lady Elle, I would like normal tea. I won’t be taking coffee, though you may use it for demonstration if you wish." The lady gave a brief nod in agreement. "Very well then. We’ll use a tea with less sugar, no salt, and more cocoa and milk. I believe you’ll enjoy it." Ariana nodded, though her brows furrowed slightly in thought. ’Salt? Was that ever even an option for tea? These people really did things that were... questionable...No, Ariana, don’t be judgmental, she scolded herself gently.’ Lady Elle moved her hands to the jug and carefully poured the tea into a delicate cup. "We’re starting from the basics, Your Grace. That’s the most important. Many rush into the advanced stages, wanting to learn quickly, but they fail to realize they’re skipping the common knowledge that’s far more useful." She leaned forward slightly and whispered with a faint smile, "The basics bring more wisdom to the advanced—my little secret." Then, her expression returned to its graceful seriousness. She lifted the teacup in her hand, slightly raising her pinky. "The tip, Your Grace: remember, you’re not meant to drink the tea—you’re meant to taste it. A gentle sip while listening, to avoid puffing your cheeks." Ariana watched closely as the lady brought the cup to her lips with fluid grace. She couldn’t help but wonder if the woman had actually drunk anything at all. Why was it even called a tea gathering if no one actually enjoyed the tea? It’s like saying you’re going to a ball party and instead of dancing, you just sing. Lady Elle continued, "To avoid spillage, there should be only a light nod of the head. This shows you’re listening to the other ladies. And always—" she paused, placing the cup lightly onto a small plate, "—keep a gentle smile on your lips. Even if you miss the conversation, the secret is to keep nodding politely." Ariana listened attentively. "How about you try?" Lady Elle asked softly. She moved to fill another cup gently, pouring tea into it as she said, "You may try now." Ariana carefully reached out and took the fragile cup, mimicking the woman’s movements. She brought it to her lips with grace, took a small sip, and placed it lightly onto the open saucer. Lady Elle’s eyes widened. "Your Grace... if you don’t mind me asking, have you already learned the basics?" Her tone was curious, wondering if someone else had come before her. Ariana signed calmly, "You are the first." Lady Elle’s lips curved into an impressed smile. "I must say, you are a very fast learner." Ariana simply nodded, though deep down, she knew she had only copied the lady’s movements. Still, she appreciated the compliment. The lesson continued. Several minutes passed, and Ariana began to grow bored, yet she managed to maintain her composure, wondering how the royals endured such things daily. "That will be all for today," Lady Elle finally said. "I must say, you did exceptionally well for a starter. I hope we’ll continue tomorrow, as scheduled." Ariana nodded, holding back the loud exhale of relief threatening to escape her lips. Finally, she whispered to herself. Lady Elle curtsied gracefully. Ariana rose from her seat and returned the gesture. She watched the lady as she walked toward the door, admiring one thing above all else—how she managed to move so elegantly in such a heavy gown. Leah approached with a soft smile. "Lady Ariana, would you like to take a short afternoon nap, or would you prefer some fresh air?" Ariana smiled back. "I’d like some fresh air—before and after the nap," she signed. Leah nodded, bowing respectfully. "As you wish, Queen Ariana." Together, they left the room. Maybe some fresh air would help Ariana clear her head. Meanwhile... Mr. Brentford sat on a torn sofa inside his modest cottage, hair slightly messy as it fell across his face. He flipped to the last page of an old newspaper from yesterday—finally reaching the end—as he tried to make sense of the current affairs. "These vampires really want war now... what’s all this about the Blood Curse Beast?" he muttered with a sigh, continuing to read. Knock! Knock! The sudden knocking on the door interrupted his focus. His gaze shifted toward it as he groaned, "That must be the newspaper man... finally." He stood up, frowning. The delivery man was over three hours late. With a grunt, he undid the padlock and pushed open the creaky wooden door. It scraped slightly against the block beneath it, so he lifted it higher to avoid the snag. Despite his daughter marriage with the king which made him multiple job offers with decent pay, Mr. Brentford had never upgraded his home. People wondered why—surely a royal connection should’ve bought him a better life—but he hadn’t changed a thing. A young man stood at the entrance, arms weighed down by a thick stack of newspapers. "My apologies for arriving late," the man began quickly. "The original delivery man was replaced this morning, and they hadn’t expected us to deliver today, so I’m filling in." Mr. Brentford barely listened. He wasn’t interested in excuses. "Just hand over the papers," he said flatly. The man gave an awkward smile. "I’m really sorry for wasting your time, but what I meant to say is... as an apology, we’re offering a free week of newspaper deliveries—no need to pay for them." Mr. Brentford raised an eyebrow. Newspapers were barely a cent anyway. He gave a small grunt and waved a hand. "Just give it here." The young man quickly handed over the papers as Mr. Brentford took them. Just as he was about to close the door, the man’s foot held it in place. Mr. Brentford’s eyes widened—he hadn’t expected that. "What is it now?" he asked, staring at the man, whose expression had suddenly turned nervous. "Please, may I come in? I would like to give you the ticket," he said softly. Mr. Brentford nodded, waving his hand. He had been standing for so long that he turned away and walked toward the sofa. Just as he did, he felt an arm wrap around his neck from behind tightly. He winced in pain, shocked. "Where is it?" the man’s voice—once calm—now sounded rough the stack of newspapers no longer in his hands. Mr. Brentford’s eyes widened. "Just give it to me, and I’ll leave you alone. I could snap your neck right now, and you’d be dead," the man said, his tone innocent again as he began to squeeze. Mr. Brentford gasped as a cracking sound came from his neck. The innocent look on the man’s face stayed the same as he continued squeezing. Another crack echoed. "M-My r..room please don’t..kill m..me," Mr. Brentford said breathlessly. The man finally let go, and Mr. Brentford collapsed to the floor, his lips parting as he gasped for air. **** Back at the Castle... Ariana and Leah walked silently through the hallway she had enjoyed the fresh air, yet she would be lying if she said she wasn’t still worried. Just as they reached the room door, she halted. Leah, caught off guard by the abrupt stop, wondered if something had happened. Ariana raised her hands and signed, ’Please, could you take me to my husband’s chambers?’ Leah’s eyes widened. "Queen Ariana... no one is allowed in." "He wouldn’t mind if it’s me. How about this—just lead me there, I’ll go inside myself." Her pleading gaze made Leah go still, but she still bowed her head respectfully. "Queen Ariana, the rule is..." she trailed off, unable to finish her words. Ariana’s face twisted into a frown as she turned and began to walk away. She didn’t know why she felt so uneasy—she just wanted to see him. Maybe if she did, she could finally sleep in peace. Her steps led her deeper down the hallway. Leah’s eyes widened again as she called out, "Queen Ariana! Please, not that way!" Ariana’s frown deepened. If they weren’t going to take her to her husband, then she would find him herself. Little did she know, the path she had taken led directly to the underground dungeon.