Episode 5: A Stranger's Kindness
941 Words
The night after the will was burned, the Valemont Estate seemed quieter than ever — but beneath its marble floors and glittering chandeliers, secrets stirred restlessly.
For Margarette, sleep did not come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the torn will burning away in Lamia’s cruel hands. Every time she breathed, she felt her mother’s voice echo faintly in her mind: “You are stronger than they think.”
She had nothing left — no proof, no power, no family.
But she had one thing Sylvia and Lamia didn’t expect her to have — hope.
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A Visit in the Morning
The next morning, Margarette carried out her usual chores in silence. Her body moved mechanically, but her mind churned with anger and questions.
In the grand dining hall, Sylvia sat at the head of the table, sipping her tea with poised indifference. Lamia, dressed in a silk robe, played with her hair, wearing that same mocking smile.
“Don’t forget to polish the silverware properly this time,” Lamia said lazily. “Mother despises dull things.”
Margarette bit her lip. Including people, apparently.
Before she could respond, a knock echoed at the main door. The butler answered, and Margarette froze when she saw Nathan Aragon walk in — tall, composed, his presence commanding the room without effort.
Sylvia’s expression immediately shifted to a social smile. “Nathan! What a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe this visit?”
Nathan returned a polite smile. “Just checking in. My family had some business correspondence with the late Mr. Valemont, and I thought it best to ensure everything remains in good order.”
Sylvia waved a delicate hand. “Everything is perfectly fine. The estate is under control.”
His eyes flickered briefly toward Margarette — tired, pale, but standing tall beside the silver tray she carried.
“Yes,” he said softly. “I can see that.”
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An Unexpected Encounter
Later that day, as Margarette gathered linens in the garden, Nathan approached her quietly.
“You found something last night,” he said, his tone low.
She looked up sharply. “How did you know?”
He smiled faintly. “You looked like someone who had just seen a ghost.”
Margarette hesitated, glancing toward the house before whispering, “It was my mother’s will. Lamia destroyed it. It proved that everything here — the house, the land — was mine.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll find a way to prove it again. There must be copies, legal witnesses, someone who can confirm your mother’s intentions.”
She shook her head sadly. “Sylvia made sure no one speaks of it. Everyone who worked for my mother was dismissed after her death. I was just a child.”
For a long moment, Nathan said nothing. Then, gently, he handed her a small folded envelope. “If you ever need help, send a letter to this address. It’s my family’s estate. My father’s lawyer may know more than you think.”
Margarette took the paper, her eyes softening. “Why are you helping me?”
He looked at her for a long time. “Because I can’t stand watching injustice. And because... I believe you deserve to rise from this.”
Her heart fluttered — not from romance, but from the warmth of being seen for the first time in years.
---
Oliver’s Doubt
From a distance, Oliver Del Fierro watched the scene unfold. He had come to visit Lamia, who had been showering him with affection — but his eyes always seemed to find Margarette instead.
Later that afternoon, when he caught her by the stables, he stopped her.
“Margarette,” he said quietly. “Why were you with Nathan Aragon?”
She blinked. “He’s just... helping me.”
Oliver frowned. “Helping? You should be careful. People like him don’t do things without reason.”
“Maybe he’s just kind,” she replied.
He looked at her sadly. “And maybe kindness comes with a cost.”
Before she could answer, Lamia appeared, looping her arm through his. “Oliver, darling, don’t waste your time with the maid. Mother’s waiting for us.”
Margarette lowered her gaze, the sting of humiliation sharp and familiar.
As they walked away, Lamia threw a glance over her shoulder, her lips curving into a cruel smile.
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A Kindness Remembered
That evening, as the rain began to fall, Margarette slipped outside, clutching Nathan’s letter in her hand. She looked toward the horizon — toward the world beyond the gates that had caged her for so long.
She whispered softly, “Mother... if you can hear me, I’ll find the truth. I promise.”
A tear fell — not of sorrow this time, but of determination.
In the distance, a shadow watched from the tree line — Nathan, holding his umbrella, making sure she returned safely to the house.
For the first time in years, Margarette didn’t feel completely alone.
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Meanwhile, Inside the Mansion...
Sylvia poured herself a glass of wine, staring into the fire. “Nathan Aragon has taken an interest in the girl,” she muttered.
Lamia rolled her eyes. “Let him. He’ll tire of her soon enough. Who would want a nobody like Margarette when he could have someone like me?”
Sylvia’s gaze darkened. “Don’t underestimate her, Lamia. That girl carries the Valemont blood — and blood has a way of reclaiming what’s rightfully its own.”
The flames crackled as Sylvia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We can’t afford to let her rise.”
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