Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 112: Something Is Wrong With Gooseberry.

Chapter 112: Something Is Wrong With Gooseberry.

Night.

Borderlands, Critic-Ishire.

***************

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the rolling hills of Critic Arley’s side, a lone figure, Theodore, could be seen galloping furiously along a narrow dirt road.

Mounted atop a majestic steed, Theodore’s brow furrowed with worry, his grip on the reins tight and determined.

His tailored tweed suit, adorned with a crisp white shirt and polished leather boots, flapped in the wind as he urged the horse onward, his demeanor was tensed with a sense of urgency.

With each pounding hoofbeat, his mind raced with thoughts of self-recrimination and frustration.

His normally composed demeanor was shattered, replaced by a tumultuous mix of anxiety and anger at himself.

He cursed beneath his breath, the words lost to the rushing wind, as he replayed the events that had led him to this frantic dash.

He should have looked for that maid first. Secured Lydia’s safety first. Executed the maid first but he lets his judgement be shrouded by his kind hearted wife, Lydia.

Theodore’s features were set in a grim expression, his jaw clenched with determination as he urged his mount to greater speed.

The rhythmic sound of hooves against earth echoed through the countryside, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds.

He had left Conan behind for awhile now as he rode past limits to reach his wife.

Through the blur of trees and fields, Theodore wished he could see the silhouette of his destination looming in the distance, a dark mansion bathed in the warm glow of twilight but that doesn’t happen, he only now stepped into Critic Arley.

With a final burst of effort, he spurred the horse forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt he had neared his destination, driven by the pressing need to right the wrongs of his past.

But suddenly he pulled the reigns of his steed. He felt when it happened because abruptly he felt his heart stop for two seconds before taking pumps back from the lungs, his eyes widened as he rushed home.

What could have happened in his mansion?

*

* *

*

Midnight.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

***************

Joyous jolted awake when she heard a scream right out of her sleep consciousness, her movements woke Dorothy up, she groaned before calling out. "Joyous?"

Joyous looked pale. "Did you hear that?"

At that question from her associate Dorothy squinted her eyes. "Hear what?"

"I think Our lady wailed just now" joyous pointed out.

Dorothy sprang to a sitting position. "What? Are you sure?"

Joyous nodded frantically. "Yes, I heard a wail that woke me, we need to check" she said leaving bed.

Dorothy paked now. "It is midnight and the mansion is far and could be locked" she said, fear placing her voice.

Joyous appeared disgusted as she asked her. "Are you stupid?"

Dorothy lowered her head, shy. "I am sorry, I was only scared" she confessed.

Joyous shook her head with a sigh. "Let us go, pick a lamp too" she said ss she picked her lamp and started to open the door.

"Oh my, Red came too, they must really have been a scream" Dorothy commented.

Joyous sprinted into a run alobg with Dorothy the second she picked it.

Meanwhile...

Hound was by the mansion entrance when he heard Lydia wail, it was filled with so much agony he felt his heart shatter further.

He had felt devastated for a moment before he ran into the mansion, rushed upstairs and ended up by her door.

It was eerily silent as though nothing had happened. If he had not been awake and sober he would have thought that it was only a figment of his imagination or a dream.

He knocked on the door. "Lady Theodore?"

"Lady Lydia" he added her name in case that would jolt her if she was having a nightmare.

"Lady Theodore are you okay, I shall have to-"

Joyous cut through his sentence. "What happened?"

"I am unaware, please go inside and check" Hound looked frightened when he said that.

Joyous nodded accessing the door. "Yes, be alert" she opened it and Dorothy was right behind.

Joyous cleared her throat as she started. "Hello Lady Theodore we..." she trailed off.

"Oh my God!" Dorothy gasoed.

"Lady Theodore, my lady!" Joyous was wailing. "Call a physician!" she ordered as she gathered Lydia in her arms.

"Hound go!" Dorothy bravely yelled at Hound who stood shocked.

Hound paled. And on automatic reaction he rushed out of the mansion to get the only person who could help the lady.

In the bedroom.

In the dimly lit masters bedroom of the Theodore mansion, the air was heavy with tension as the maids rushed to aid Lydia, she laid pallid and weak upon her bed.

The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows upon the ornate wallpaper, reflecting the somber mood that hung in the air.

"My lady"

With gentle hands and furrowed brows, Joyous and Dorothy worked swiftly to tend to their mistress, carefully they removed her blood-stained garments and replaced them with a fresh gown of delicate lace and silk.

"You shall be fine, my lady"

"Please wake up, we miss you already"

Their voices were hushed as they murmured words of comfort, their concern evident in the lines etched upon their young faces.

As Lydia drifted in and out of consciousness, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, the maids exchanged worried glances, knowing they must act quickly to summon aid.

With trembling fingers, Joyous reached for the ladies forehead wiping her sweat. Dorothy started to fan the lady urgently the sound of the fan echoing through the silent halls of the mansion.

Minutes felt like hours as they waited anxiously for the physician to arrive, their hearts heavy with fear for their mistress’s well-being.

In the flickering candlelight, the scene seemed frozen in time, a haunting tableau of sorrow and despair.

What would Lord Theodore think?

What happened to her?

It had felt like forever for the maids who felt like we’re slipping in and out consciousness with Lydia while they waited for Hound and the physician.

Finally, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor as the physician burst into the room, his brow furrowed with concern as he assessed the situation.

Hound had gotten him fast enough.

Dorothy rushed to him and pulled him into the room. "Save her please" she whispered, her voice quivering.

With practiced hands, he set to work, his voice calm and reassuring as he tended to the Lady’s needs, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had descended upon the once-grand mansion.

Joyous sniffed. "What happened to her?"

The physician shook his head sympathetically. "Where is Lord Theodore?"

"He is not back yet" she replied eagerly.

Mmm the physician sighed moving back inside. He does not tell them what actually happened and they are too scared to ask what actually happened.

Together they wait, for Lydia to wake up or for Theodore to get back.

*

* *

*

Dusk.

Gates, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

***************

In the early light of dusk, the knight rode beside lord Theodore, their steeds now trotting along the winding path that led to the grand mansion.

The Lord had slowly reduced his pace as they got closer, perhaps intending to delay the inevitable.

Despite the weariness that gnawed at Conan’s bones, a sense of duty compelled him to follow, his gaze fixed ahead on the imposing silhouette of the gates.

As they neared the mansion, a pang of longing tugged at the Conan’s heart, his thoughts drifting to Helena whom he had left behind.

Though he denied it to himself, he couldn’t deny the growing feelings that stirred within him whenever he was in her presence.

But duty and honor bound him to his lord, his loyalty unwavering even in the face of his own desires.

And so, with a heavy heart and a troubled mind, he followed his lord into the mansion, the weight of his conflicting emotions settling like a leaden cloak around his shoulders.

They reached the gate and the gates were open, Theodore glanced at Conan, but Conan was away, he felt uneasy.

The grandeur of the mansion was a stark contrast to the simplicity of the life Conan longed to return to. Yet still, he remained resolute in his commitment to his friend and lord, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the cavernous halls as he pushed aside thoughts of what could have been.

Theodore began to sprint again, suddenly eager to meet his wife. His horse was galloping and soon he was jumping out of it.

The mansion is quiet, still and darker than normal as the lord of Critic Arley walked inside, his right hand man right behind him.

He rushed up the stairs and as he neared their bedroom he started to hear hushed whispers.

His heart rate picked up.

He reached the door but Hound was standing outside it. "Where is my wife?" he growled.

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