Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 130: Lydia’s Bad Fashion.

Chapter 130: Lydia’s Bad Fashion.

Courtyard.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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Lydia waved it off. "The Muckraker would not know because I do not go out like that, the only public event I’ve been to, I was wrapped in gloves" she expressed.

"You know nothing much is secret nor hidden from the muckraker" Helena lifted a brow.

"Quit it, I hear you, when the dressmaker arrives tomorrow for measurement, I shall add the idea of a glove" Lydia groaned.

"Now where is your husband, he is always around" Helena brought to light as it was a surprise he hadn’t put a word into this conversation.

"Work, Lena do not tease me on uneven grounds" Lydia passed.

As Helena giggled Lydia went further to say. "So you haven’t told me the little secret you said that you have got" Lydia reminded.

Absentmindedly Helena raised a brow. "What?"

"What is it that you wanted to tell me about?" Lydia reiterated.

But Helena appeared to have forgotten, so she started to juggle through her memory. "Not Conan, not the gloves, not staying over, Aha!" and she remembered, she turned in her seat holding Lydia’s gaze intently. "Lydia I have a business idea" she whispered.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at the same time raised a brow. "You do? That is wonderful news, what do you intend to sell?"

"I shall make and market" Helena added.

"Oh? Creativity if you grow passion for it, you are set, what is it?" Lydia commented.

Helena nodded. "Yes, Pillows" Her feet have somehow ended up on the seat.

Lydia narrowed her eyes in contemplation. "I think my comprehension quota has been reduced, do you mind expanciating?"

Helena played with her bun as she replied. "I shall make pillows and sell to the people"

Lydia’s expression went into an oh. "How are you planning to do that?"

Helena cleared her throat. "The cotton tree that bloomed in the mansion" she muttered looking at the tea.

Lydia turned in her seat and from the courtyard pointed at the cotton tree that had indeed bloomed in the mansion. "That one?"

"Yes, since Conan never took any I have enough money to buy materials and I will stuff whatever I sew with the fresh cottons from the Theodore mansion, with your permission of course" she completed looking hopeful.

Lydia blushed. "Oh you have my permission but I shall have to convince Theodore to let that happen" she alerted.

"Thank you, I hate that I am making you do this but I want to have an income" Helena confessed in a whisper.

Lydia shook her fan. "Nonsense, you do not have to feel bad about it, women should support women and if Theodore does not want that, I shall have to be petty" she spoke out.

Helena pouted. "You are my sister," she said, her eyes glistening.

Before Helena could drift into a tear energy, a feet shuffle drew their attention. The friends turned and a figure appeared. Tom.

"Lady Theodore" he bowed.

Lydia smiled expecting him to continue. He did, his voice gruff and simple. "Fruits"

Slowly he dropped the bowl of all assortments of fruits that he had cut, prepared and creamed with milk.

"Thank you" Lydia mumbled as he stood to leave, perhaps he was forced by joyous? Lydia thought as she said to Helena. "He does not talk much"

Helena nodded in understanding as she readied to dive into the bowl. "Is this how much your workers adore you?" she mumbled a question before adding. "I forgot to thank him for taking in my luggage earlier"

Lydia giggled, as she tucked her errant hair behind her ears. "It’s like I suddenly have four junior siblings and that might be another person"

Helena didn’t understand so she ignored it. "That must be so endearing" she commented on the fact that Lydia now had people she felt were like siblings while she found it in her.

Lydia blushed. "It is, Where is Conan?"

"He left for his mother’s, she misses him" Helena replied as she forked up a fruit out of the bunch.

"What kind of a son is he?"

Helena turned red as she replied. "A noble one, sweet, kind and he cooks too" she completed.

"Then why did you leave?"

Helena sighed.

Last week, as the week drew to a close, Helena had been sick in the beginning so she was generally relaxed despite all the little revelations before then but later on she found herself in a reflective mood, pondering the events of the past several days.

It had been a challenging week for her, spent mostly confined to the walls of her and Conan’s home due to a bout of illness that left her feeling drained both physically and emotionally.

Her mood, already low from using that amount of magic, took a further dip as she found herself cooped up indoors, disconnected from the outside world.

Throughout the week, Conan, a noble soul with a busy schedule, seemed to flit in and out of their shared space like a fleeting shadow.

His days were consumed by various commitments, leaving him little time to spare for idle conversation or companionship with her, he would help her with her hair sometimes and still always made food.

So, despite his absence, she couldn’t help but notice his gallant efforts to maintain their household amidst his hectic schedule, a silent yet reassuring presence in her otherwise solitary existence.

Her own activities during the week were limited, consisting mainly of brief forays outside to deliver papers before retreating to the solitude of her room.

The monotony of her routine weighed heavily on her spirit, amplifying her sense of isolation and discontent. Then she started to reflect on her actions due to a mole amount of time and a push when a letter came from Conan’s mother, he was going to see her soon and then he would find out what she did.

She had healed the lady out of empathy but she began to think.

Will Conan judge her for being a witch?

A powerful witch was needed to help her healing, how had she been able to do it?

Does his dislike for witches extend to her?

So she decided, she was leaving the house after he did for his mother, that way she would not know his reaction to her action.

As she waved him goodbye, he had smiled, perhaps thinking she was in a brighter mood but today marked her departure from the mundane rhythm of her days.

As she prepared to step out of her cocoon of solitude, and uncertainty, a newfound energy surges within her.

She didn’t have anywhere in Critic Arley that she could go, and if she was to spend lavishly now, Conan was a knight and he would find her, she also needed capital for her new business idea so she couldn’t spend her money, which brought her to the decision to visit her friend, her look-alike, her sister, a beacon of warmth and familiarity amidst the gloom, it filled her with anticipation and hope.

Mother had always said, you either take the risk or the risk takes you. Live vicariously once in a while.

It made it uncomplicated for her to leave because, just as she gathered her belongings and prepared to embark on her journey, a sudden interruption disrupted her plans.

Conan, the knight whose comings and goings have become a familiar backdrop to her days, received a letter from his mother beckoning him home again and she sounded desperate.

In a whirlwind of activity, he made the decision to depart, leaving her once again to navigate the solitude of their home alone.

Mixed emotions swirled within her as she watched him prepare to leave because she knew it might be the last.

Gratitude for his steadfast presence mingles with a tinge of sadness at his imminent departure.

Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a glimmer of optimism shines through. With his absence, she found herself presented with an unexpected opportunity for solitude and self-reflection, a chance to rediscover her own strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

As she bid farewell to a bungalow that had been home and more to her, Helena stood at the threshold of a new Chapter, ready to embrace whatever challenges and adventures lay ahead. And though the week may have been fraught with struggles and setbacks, she faced the future with renewed determination and a quiet sense of hope.

They continued lunch in silence as somehow Lydia had gotten her hand on a book.

Joyous marched into the kitchen, her step was precise yet soft. "There is a newsletter for the mansion lady Theodore" she announced.

Not the muckrake letter but a newsletter. Lydia raised her head from the book she was reading.

"Give it" Lydia urged dropping her book.

Helena shifted closer. "I ought to see, Conan never reads any other news unless the Muckrakers" she complained.

With a smile, Lydia nodded. "He is smitten by her" he reasoned.

Conan had come to collect the papers he had booked for them the last time and despite Lydia being disoriented she had thanked him with a smile last week.

Helena scoffed. "Blasphemy, he has never even seen her feet" she sneered.

Lydia busted into an immediate laughter before she sniffed.

"I believe Sir Conan has seen her in his heart and so his obsession remains" Lydia commented.

They opened the newsletter and its headline in bold letters read ’A WITCH IN SIR CONAN’S HOME’. Helena blanched while Lydia glanced at her tentatively.