Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 115: Helena Rushing To Lydia.

Chapter 115: Helena Rushing To Lydia.

Evening.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

Theodore left Lydia be with fresh flowers in the bedroom as the physician had instructed, there was nothing he could do anymore he’d said abd Theodore on a full thread of hope was waiting for Helena now, but he had went right back to her without a second thought, unable to stsy away when he knew she must be innso kuch pain. One he shared with her thoroughly.

A wave of disbelief had crashed over Theodore when he learned the truth: his wife had suffered a miscarriage, a precious life lost before they even knew of its existence.

The news had landed like a heavy blow, one he hadn’t been prepared for, leaving him reeling with a whirlwind of emotions, grief, confusion, and a profound sense of loss.

As he sat beside her on the bed in the midst of his turmoil, a dilemma emerges, casting a shadow over his already troubled mind.

Should he tell his wife the truth when she awakens, or shield her from the pain of this heartbreaking revelation?

The weight of this decision presses down upon him, each option fraught with its own complexities and uncertainties.

He struggled with the tormenting thought of how to broach such a delicate topic, how to find the right words to convey the depth of their shared sorrow.

Would it be kinder to spare her the anguish of knowing, or would withholding the truth only deepen the wounds of their silent suffering?

What if she already knew?

As he sat by her bedside, watching over her slumbering form, he grappled with the unbearable weight of his grief, his heart heavy with the burden of secrets left unspoken.

In the quiet solitude of their bedroom, he found himself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, torn between the desire to shield his wife from pain and the gnawing ache of his own sorrow.

He had just lost a child.

He smiled bitterly.

He had never had one, life never lets them get there and now they could beat bad luck, a maid takes it away.

*

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*

Afternoon.

Office, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

Later that day Theodore went back to his office and tried to work.

Moments later.

Hound stepped into the office and he caught sight of a spacing out Theodore. "Where were you, Hound?"

Hound knew the question wasn’t for today, he was asking what happened when the maid cane inside, where was Hound, when his wife was killed?

"I was by the entrance, she must have been a witch" he gave out with a frown.

Therefore ran his fingers through his hair. He looked drowsy yet angry. "So she used some other Channel to enter the mansion" he pointed out.

"Yes Lord Theodore" Hound confirmed.

Theodore stood up and rested both his palms on the desk. "Find her. Find her, Hound and bring her to me" he ordered, sinister.

Hound’s teeth grounded, he was going to do that even if he was wasn’t ordered to. "Yes Lord Theodore" he said simply.

He stood silent as Theodore did too.

He knew if Conan was here, it would’ve been easier for the lord but right now he was here.

Theodore picked a glass off his shelf. He had wine somewhere, he picked it up from under his table but gritted his teeth and dropped it. "Do you think she had always had an ulterior motive?" he was talking about the maid.

Hound shook his head. "It could not have stemmed from the mansion lord Theodore, I think she was readied for you" he said.

Mira could not have suddenly come to the mansion and hated the lady of the house. Lydia was everything but hateful.

"Fucking witches, I swear I shall burn every one involved in this when I find them" Theodore pledged, his eyes red as he raised the bottle of wine that he had cane around to open and downed it.

He breathed before turning to Hound.

"Conan shall be here soon, I think you should be with the lady" Hound advised holding his eyes.

"I know," he said. But he hadn’t been able to breath properly as he watched her sleep so off.

"The boys would be here with Blanc before night, they would take care of the things you have had to do alone" he was indirectly thanking Hound for doing his best.

With a smile he started to tell lord Theodore. "She did a lot of things while you were away but she had looked uncomfortable, I thought she was merely missing you" his voice drifted into sadness at the ending if his sentence.

"Thank you" Theodore patted his shoulders as he walked towards the door. Hound had a way of punishing himself if he thinks he has done wrong and deserved it.

Theodore didn’t want that for him right now, the lord felt he was the one who deserved a punishment. Theodore didn’t know what happened with Hound but he was sure it messed up his mind.

Earlier before Theodore’s arrival Hound had stepped inside to confirm what was happening as he would need to give a report when asked and he simply couldn’t breathe.

But immediately he stepped into the bed chambers he had stood frozen, his heart weighed down by a crushing guilt as he gazed upon his unconscious mistress, Lady Theodore.

Her delicate features were pale, her breath shallow, and her once vibrant spirit now silenced by the poison coursing through her veins.

He knew deep within that this was not his fault; he had faithfully stood watch, diligently patrolled the grounds, and meticulously safeguarded her every step.

Yet, the anguish gnawed at his soul as he replayed the moments leading up to this tragedy in his mind.

He wished fervently to turn back time, to intercept the maids hand that had delivered this treacherous fate upon his beloved lady, he had never personally cared about the girls but he’d always noticed she never gossips with the others and gossip is what girls do when busy or bored. He should’ve known.

Every fiber of his being yearned to undo the harm inflicted upon Lydia, to rewrite the cruel script that had unfolded before his eyes. He was just right outside!

The weight of Hounds remorse threatened to suffocate him, as he grappled with the cruel irony of fate, that he, her sworn protector despite never uttering a word about it as he had been with Theodore longer, he felt more aligned with Lydia, like an older sibling hindering to protect but he could do nothing to shield her from this heinous act.

She was a witch, yes, but he was Hound. He shall catch her.

After failing himself multiple times before he had sworn he wouldn’t fail Theodore ever.

The maids watch him with a frown, he looked so lost and sad. It was as though he believes he made this happen.

In the quiet chamber, amidst the stillness broken only by Lydia’s labored breaths, Hound vowed silently to himself.

He vowed to redouble his vigilance, to leave no stone unturned in his pursuit of justice for his lady.

For even though he may not have been able to prevent this tragedy, he pledged to dedicate every ounce of his being to ensure that such darkness would never again cast its shadow upon her grace, upon this mansion or Theodore.

Lydia just needed to wake up.

*

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*

Outside, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

As the carriage came to a halt, the door swung open with a creak, and Helena emerged in a flurry of urgency.

Her skirts billowed around her as she dashed across the garden, the cool evening air whipping strands of her hair across her face.

The scent of roses and dewy grass lingered in the air as she hurried past, her heart pounding with fear.

With determined steps, Helena ascended the small steps leading to the grand entrance of the mansion.

Each footfall echoed in the quietness of the evening, a stark contrast to the frantic rhythm of her pulse. The mansion was as still as the nights.

Her breath came in short gasps, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her shoulders.

Behind her, Conan followed closely, his armor clinking softly with each stride. His presence offered both reassurance and a reminder of the urgency of their mission to Helena.

Lydia has been poisoned and she didn’t see it coming.

He matched her pace, his expression masked by determination as they ascended the steps together.

Helena’s thoughts raced ahead of her, her mind consumed by the image of her sick friend, one she could only think about as a sister lying helpless in her bed.

She feared she might already be too late, that the poison would have spread and claimed her newfound companion before she could reach her side.

She was a powerful witch, Lydia shouldn’t go through this but she is. Helena wailed inwards.

She had to save Lydia because else it will break her.