Secrets of the Villainous Empress

Chapter Twenty-Six: Une Nuit en Ville II

The area was dark and spooky. The only light that worked was on the far off corner of the enclosed, poorly fenced Mayflower cemetery.

“I don’t get it. Your first outing in weeks, and you go to the cemetery first??!” Henderson complained as he held his sides, obviously afraid of ghosts…because, why not.

“Just give me a moment.” I pleaded.

The cold night wind blew harshly, forcing the hood of my dark red cloak off, exposing my now golden hair.

Henderson had ‘loaned’ me his enchantment artefact, and by loan, I mean that in the most literal sense. I am paying him by the hour because the device was expensive, and it, like batteries, had a half-life.

His money problems aren’t my fault, right?

I mean, I am almost certain that his commissions pay well, so could it be because we grew up ‘sort of’ poor in List? I mean, I had Sofia and Tea help out with some supplies from the farm, but he had lived a bit of life before I came along. Perhaps that’s where his over-concern on that subject stems?

Still, parents rarely get to walk alongside their children to see the scars they inflicted…perhaps there was a reason for that.

Though my hair was in a ponytail, the wind managed to whip it harshly around my face, and of course, most of it went in my mouth.

-Should I cut it?-

No… I really like Azalea’s hair. It was soft, curly when wet and smooth. Plus, I don’t have to do much horseback riding or foot travel. I reasoned as I approached a well decorated and maintained mausoleum at the heart of the cemetery.

I placed my hand by the door and pressed the hidden brick that activated the secret entrance that only a few knew about.

The ground rattled as the tomb door sank dramatically into the ground.

“I-I am n-not g-going there!!” Henderson fussed.

“Oh, come now, it can't get any scarier than here?” I teased.

“S-seriosly S-simon, I-I-I am n-not!”

“What?” I smiled, amused by his stuttering, “Are you cold? I guarantee it's warmer in there.”

“O-oh y-you th-think that y-you are f-u-unny?” he asked, and as if on cue, a dry branch fell from one of the trees around the fence, causing Henderson to let out an ear-piercing shriek.

Obviously, bursting out laughing was not the correct response, especially as I was somewhat indebted to him.

“F-five minutes! F-five m-minutes, S-Simon! Any l-longer a-and not only wi-l-l I increase the mark-up on the amulet’s r-rent fe-e b-but a-also, I-I will l-e-leave y-you!!” he threatened.

But either way, no matter how brave he sounded as he issued the threat, five was more than enough, especially as I was familiar with the layout of the mausoleum as it was the Rossetta’s.

The first family that I had when I woke up in this world, before the curse, before the Gods and before my loss of wonder.

The stone door that had sunk open, rose in closure as soon as I had stepped into the narrow steps that led deeper into the tomb. Darkness engulfed the space for a few seconds before the crystals on the wall began glowing one by one automatically.

The walls were marble, however unlined, or was it unprocessed? The rocks were uneven, giving it a natural feel as the tomb that held all descendants and ancestors of the Rossetta before its fall five hundred years ago to the Gerrets resembled an unexplored dungeon.

To clarify, not all the Rosetta’s failed, but it was the ‘Brec’ branch of the household that was nobility, and its last member was Hosen Brec Rosetta, a willful pirate who wished to die at sea but instead died of an STI.

He had had no intentions of fighting for the title after his parents had bankrupted the estate with a series of poor choices and had instead gambled it off because, despite my willingness to help, he had no interest in the land. He was a simple man who craved the sea and its adventures.

Although, at first, I was upset with him, I envied him. He was a man who lived life as it was intended, on edge, with nothing but wind slowing you down, the utter embodiment of freedom.

I reached the fifteenth black gate from the entrance stairs then slid the gate slowly to expose a dusty room with four stone coffins. My mother’s, titled Victoria Brec in cursive, my father’s written Spence Brec, Sienna’s, my sister, written Sienna Brec and under her station as they were banked like double beds, lay an empty coffin. The coffin once had my name, but now, it was blank with only the title ‘Brec’ scribbled on the marble lid.

It had been the cause of many rumours as stone coffins were only carved at the birth of a child. Still, since the gods turned back time and erased me from existence, the only thing left behind were forgotten intentions, especially as they had done so from the first war, rather than my birth.

I found it a little amusing as I was certain that my family had forgotten me, yet still, after I had purchased their estate, I realised that they had sealed my room and that nothing was out of place from when I had left to be imprisoned by the gods.

And just as they could not bear to alter the room, I could not bear to use the estate that I had spent my first fortune purchasing.

If anything was haunted, it was that estate. It was littered with terribly precious yet forgotten memories.

“Hi, mama,” I said, my voice unbelievably shakey, “papa,”

“I am the Empress now!” I announced, then smiled to myself, and tears from seemingly nowhere filled my eyes, “Hah! Remember when…remember when I had nowhere to go so, I slept here, in my coffin until I acclimated to the role?”

“Haha! I-!” I choked up.

 The light-hearted anecdote of now owning the central most prestigious building in the continent vanished in my throat.

 “Haaah…!” I bit my lip to ease the pain that pierced my throat bitterly, “I really don’t want to be alive….”

The tears that had welled up in my eyes dripped warmly and inelegantly, followed closely by the nasal congestion that often accompanied sorrow.

“Ah! What am I saying?” I fumbled awkwardly at my confessions to the dead, “I should have brought flowers!!”

“Oh and Tea, I always visit with Tea.” I cleared my throat, then walked to mama and papa’s coffins.

“Hello, Papa,” I greeted, then turned to my mother's coffin above his, “mama.”

“I have good news this time,” I began, “ The gods were reluctant about setting me free, but their decision was overruled by the system. So I think I was right in my theory that the system works independently from the gods past a certain level.”

“Ooh, papa! Guess what! Do you remember how you loved playing the piano?”

“In the Empress’s parlour room, there is a huge black and gold piano from one of the best makes. She also had the piano skill in her set!” I announced.

“I mean, I picked the violin because I only have three years remaining, but, you know.”

“Oh, mama! The Empress has a lot of rose tea. I know I said that I found it a little strong, but if it's mixed in good ratios with the black tea leaves from the farm, it's terrific.”

“Oh, how could I forget? It turns out the Empress only uses things from our farm!!” I chuckled, “I mean, yes, on the premium side, but still!!”

“All that’s left is for Tea and Sof to take things international,” I said, then licked my lips. “I don’t think I’ll be there when they do but isn’t that great??”

“And Sie!!” I turned to my sister's coffin, “I may be getting a Harem!! Isn’t that exciting??”

However, as soon as I stopped talking, only the painful silence echoed, forcing the false smile I wore to falter.

I was like a child with imaginary friends; only children grew out of their delusions with time, whereas, life after life, here I crawled.