Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 55: Conan Has A Bride To Be.

Chapter 55: Conan Has A Bride To Be.

Afternoon.

Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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Lydia was in a fitted purple dress, a chiffon long sleeve with a button at the wrist, a flowy length, a dress she and her husband had picked after she picked his for him, she was delicately placing the roses and daisies that she had picked from the flower garden into the blue and gold designed vases that she had sent the maid to get for her, it shall make the mansion brighter and even more lively. The presence she feels in the mansion is still there most of the time but it only adds to the eerie of the mansion. Sometimes her steps falter because she believes someone has been following right after her with its eyes but they are nothing, so she sighs and ignores them.

The flowers are fresh and bright from the grounds, Hound was the person who always took care of the buds and now he is unwell. She felt guilty about sending him into a place he shouldn’t have been, her carelessness had made her lose Red. The said cat meowed next to her making her smile warmly as he followed her around the mansion.

"Lady Theodore, do you want some tea?" Joyce’s voice pierced through the temporal silence.

Lydia turned to her with a smile "No, I’m fine, I shall be waiting for the Carpenter in my library after doing this" she pointed out, the corridors and windows now had vases filled with flowers of different colours, she had only been able to fill the right wing and the middle area. The left wing and the courtyard area at the back are still dark and bare.

Joyce nodded "Alright, we are wiping the mansion walls of possible cobwebs" she informed.

"You do that, did Mira get the candles I asked for yesterday?" she surveyed

The maid shook her head. "No Lady Theodore, I shall get it today"

Lydia frowned she had instructed Mira to get a candle for the mansion, as the one present was getting exhausted and the Mansion would soon be surged in darkness and she could not have that.

"Tell Mira I say she leaves for the market this instant, I want her to bring the candles to me before it is dark" Lydia ordered no longer interested in flower arrangements.

"Yes, Lady Theodore" Joyce nodded, bowing her head deeply.

She was happy when she turned and the flowers were finished already.

Her eyes had caught the entrance of her library when a voice stopped her. "Good afternoon Lady Theodore" She turned and it was Conan.

Her brows lift.

"This is the carpenter, My Lady" Conan introduced with a small smile, he had gone to the gates to pick up the man inside.

Hound is still unresponsive.

"Oh thank you for coming Mr..." she trailed off expecting him to fill her in with his name.

The carpenter, a slim man with a nose too long shrugs a chuckle escaping his thin lips, "Theodore calls me Solo but my name is Solomon the Carpenter" he said.

"Is there another Solomon?" Lydia asked curiously

"Yes, Solomon the magistrate" he answered

Lydia covered a giggle "Ah yes, I met his wife" she confessed

"The green-lipped lady you mean" Conan added, his voice light.

Lydia gasped "I would feel awful if I heard she wears that all the time" she confessed, her palm to her chest.

"No only to special gatherings" Solomon the carpenter let out.

Conan and Lydia burst into a fit of laughter at the way the middle-aged man tried to mimic the magistrate’s wife’s voice.

Lydia and the Carpenter went around the mansion as Lydia showed him places where he needed to make new things, the cushions, the cupboards and her book rack, she also asked for a swing for her reading in the garden, one he promised to do later as decorating the house should come first. They were furniture plans for the walls and curtain areas. Lydia was elated.

"I shall be back to begin work tomorrow, or I could simply deliver whatever I make"

"Whichever you find comfortable, though I would love to follow the process so I can make corrections.

"I understand Lady Theodore, have a good day" the carpenter ’Solomon’ wished her with a small smile before leaving the mansion, Conan right after him.

Lydia turned and the gaze on her seemed to turn too. She narrowed her eyes.

Whatever it is lurking in the mansion now yearns for acknowledgement.

*

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*

Early Evening.

Sir Conan’s Bungalow.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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Conan whistled as he swaggered into his bungalow, genuinely in a fantabulous mood after visiting the mansion despite his friend lying unconscious in his cottage. A solution will be found soon. Just as he swings the first door to his house open he is shocked from the tip of his head to his toe

"Father!" he cried out.

"What are you doing here?!" he groaned.

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

Hours earlier.

Helena slept till she could only have brunch when she woke up, it was a night of sleep to strengthen her from all the walking around and talking she did yesterday looking for a house, she should have taken Conan’s words for it and stayed in the bungalow but she had messed up by leaving, he was still generous enough to let her stay again, she could try to be invisible in the house but Conan has made that hard with his unnecessary rules.

Last night, immediately after they had stepped inside, he had made them dinner while she freshened up and as they ate dinner he looked at her and said. "The house rules are simple, you won’t cook, organise parties or invite men"

She had agreed easily because she couldn’t cook, she never intended to organize parties and definitely would never invite men to another man’s house, she came here to start a new life, if possible become a noble and she would let nothing jeopardize that, not even Conan or herself.

She just meditated, channelling her magic into her nucleus, she felt better and was intending to continue when a knock interrupted her serenity, she felt excited, she had thought she would be alone all day long but here the knight was back.

With a smile, she drew the door open as she sing-songed. "I had thought you... " she trailed off.

Instead of Conan a man who looked like an older version of Conan, with dark blond locks, a peaky nose, black iris, thin lips and a Stubbed chin stood outside about to knock again.

"Conan has a wife?!" the middle-aged man, howled.

Helena’s eyes went round "No my lord, I am merely his-" the man cut her off "He is courting you then" he invited with a nod.

She blinked, shook her head and went with the closest to the truth "I’m his neighbour" she responded.

He frowned "What then are you doing inside his house when he is not around?" he questioned coldly.

She paled, her spine straight. Dear Lord.

"Someone who is not his wife cannot stay here, if you are not related to him in any way I suggest you leave," the man said impatiently, his voice cold with a hard face.

"I beg your pardon, my lord" her voice quivered as she blinked her fear away.

He scowled "You need to leave this house and I do not want you anywhere near my son" he ordered.

"Your son?" she screeched

He advanced into the bungalow making her step aside for him to step inside "Conan is my son" he pointed out.

Her eyes widen and so does her strained smile "I... I am his wife-to-be, Yes" she lied with stutters through her teeth, her smile widens as she starts to act coy "Conan and I were keeping it under wraps until we could tell you, Father" she smiled courteously

The man paused to watch her "Is that so? He asked

"Yes, that is very much true, I am going to be his wife" she added, her smile growing genuine.

"I did not think my son would be so secretive about his love life" he confessed with a pout that couldn’t go well with the scowling man from seconds ago.

His son changes his attitude just like his father, within moments.

The word love rang in her head, he had talked about love.

"Love. Yes. Of course love and marriage" she said, turning to shut the door so her jaws could rest.

"Come, tell me about yourself and how you met" Conan’s father invited as he took his seat.

What?! She squeaked mentally.

"Oh, but Father you are the older one, you shall tell me about all your experiences and how you stayed alive for so long" She dodged a bullet coyly, her stance suddenly prim.

She needs a fan.

"Nonsense I am not that old, my wife tells me I am still the most adorable... " and that was how Lord Rior Jones, the royal advisor of the emperor of Critic-Ishire started to tell about his whole interesting life with ease and solace one finds in an old friend. It was effortless to talk to Helena, she was smooth with older people and easing to the eye he thought before his charming son came whistling in.

"Father! What are you doing here?!"