Prologue: An Unthinkable Fate
‘Thwack!’
“You clumsy fool! How dare you make such a mistake!”
‘Thwack!’
Agony. Pure, sharp, rippling.
Just another cup of tea to deliver, that’s all it was meant to be.
The scent of the Earl Grey leaves browning the water was a calming aroma. She kept her eyes fixated on the porcelain’s tiny clinks against the saucer to avoid any spillage as she slowly climbed the staff stairwell up to the VIP room.
Towards the bestial man initially hidden behind his benevolent, distinguished demeanor - one of The Madam’s esteemed guests. From what she overheard from the others, he’d never sought anything more than companionable comfort during his business meetings.
Those who got close enough even praised the brilliant shade of his blue eyes, hidden behind the mask that mandated all guests entry to their House.
He was only meant to be served refreshments. The one role Meredith had been trained for since she was found at The Madam’s doorstep.
Then, she felt something foreign as she extended the steamy beverage to the smiling obese, dandruff flecked Vandenbergh.
Something warm and clammy trailing a path up her skirt between her thighs.
Her wrist slackened. The steeping tea was soon all over the man’s lap, soaking through the bottom of his vest and starched shirt.
Droplets of scalding hot ochre liquid hang from the chain of his pocket watch. His anguished howl of disbelief rang through the corridor and soon, the furious clacking of The Madam’s heels could be heard.
“Mahdam!” Mr. Vandenbergh’s loud voice cracks, his thick German accent faltering in the face of his shock. “Look aht zis mess! Vat vermin zuu you ’ave vorkink ’ere?”
The Madam’s horrified gaze caught onto the expanding brown spot on Vandenbergh’s once crisp white shirt and her eyes shrank to mere slits at Meredith’s cowering figure.
“You foolish brat!” she screeched, dashing like a lightning bolt towards her.
Meredith yelps as she’s backhanded to the floor. She curls into a quivering ball, knowing what comes next.
“Please…No!”
‘Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!’
The Madam heaves as she raises the gnarled, leather bullwhip, splitting Meredith’s inflamed skin over and over again.
Tears blur her vision as each strike knocks the breath out from her.
“Please.. Madam! I-Ah! I-I’m sorry! Stop!”
“You halfwit idiot! I should’ve left you to rot all those years ago! How dare you harm Mr. Vandenbergh! You will feel his pain!”
The stench of metal floats up her nose. Meredith struggles to stifle her cries, her back burning as sweat mixes with the blood coating the floor.
Her vision whirls and she thinks she hears ringing as her head thuds against the floor, the coolness doing nothing to soothe her violent tremors.
The Madam stops, her heaving breaths reverberate through the room.
A numb coldness hangs about Meredith. The pulsing of her heart echoes the stinging throbbing of her back.
But she knows it’s not over.
“I vill take it from ’ere, Mahdam.”
Somewhere in her haze, Meredith senses a more imposing presence approach her. She wills her vision to clear as she shifts slightly in his direction.
Mr. Vandenbergh stares intently at the trembling mess before him with pursed lips. His piercing gaze triggers a barrage of worries in Meredith’s mind.
She feels her mouth quiver open in its struggle for coherency.
“I-I-’m... s-sorry... s-sir. I—ACK!”
The blunt tip of a cane is swiftly thrust against Meredith’s neck.
Spikes of torment as sharp as razors tear through her throat as she desperately claws against the end of the stick to push it away, her legs thrashing about feebly.
Meredith can’t even manage a squeak.
“Zuu not shpeak, girl. Not aah vord.”
Then, the brunt of Mr. Vandenbergh’s cane, fashioned from old mahogany, strikes against the side of her head with the weight of a boulder.
The freeing gasp of air she inhales is shortlived as the force of the blow throws her body to the side in excruciating pain.
Her eyes flutter as her vision wanes and dissipates. Her senses are numb to everything else.
She feels more than sees the cane disappearing from her periphery, ready for another blow.
She prays death would be a swift mercy.
“Enough!” a firm, assertive voice booms.
Meredith feels her eyes drift close, the dark splotches swimming into view reminding her of the time she had snuck down the narrow, tottery stairwell to The Madam’s secret office.
It had been a desperate, useless bid to find out where she came from and who she was.
“Get out of the way!” Another voice yells, penetrating the fog in her mind as it draws closer.
Strange, yet familiar.
A pair of hands, so steady yet graceful, gently cradle her. She fights the oncoming darkness and the large bleary mass around her becomes two.
One towers above her, hazy. The other is nearer.
A soothing warmth, oddly cheering.
“I got you. You’re safe now,” he whispers.
His hands are what saved her, the hands which bear her body still, gentle yet secure.
The heavenly creature has his face obscured by his mask.
But from this close, she spots a hint of human imperfection; a pink, jagged scar running lengthwise down his face, just the tip visible, before the angelic blemish is hidden.
Why would he try to hide such a thing? She had so many of her own.
The world goes black, no longer a descent into hell, but a gentle fade into peace.
***
“It’s my turn to hide!”
“No fair! It’s my turn!” Meredith pouts as the boy slips from her grip. His giggles are infectious as they tear after one other through the overgrown field.
A stumble and he pulls her down with him. They tumble and she lands next to him. They burst into laughter.
He turns his head towards her, and the butterflies she feels in her stomach have nothing to do with her giggles.
“Your eyes are glowing, Mere,” the boy murmurs, his hand reaching out.
“Alright you two, playtime’s over.”
Meredith breaks away from his gaze to see a gorgeous young woman approaching, her eyes full of mirth shining a brilliant gold like hers...
***
“Where did you find her?” a deep, muffled voice permeates the layers of fog clouding her mind.
Meredith’s eyelids flicker at the distant voices filtering lazily through her hazy consciousness.
Where is she?
A loud sigh.
“She’s an official employee Jay, as are all the other girls in The Red House. The Madam has every righ—”
“You didn’t see the way they beat her, Dad. No one deserves that. I had to intervene.” A younger voice rings out, exuding a protective tone.
Meredith hears another sigh. Who are they?
“Gone one month and you’ve already found troubl—Why were you there?”
A short silence.
“Billingsley requested to hash out the details of our merger there. We need his support, so... I couldn’t refuse.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to bring him with you?”
“Don’t undermine his age, Dad. He’s in the running to become the Nel—”
“Mmm.” Meredith shifts.
“She’s awake. Get her some water.”
The gentle thud of a door closing sends a throbbing pain against Meredith’s temple, made worse as she finally opens her eyes to blinding light.
A delicate hand lifts her head slowly off the pillow and she feels the tip of a cool glass at her dry lips. The soreness of her throat lessens with each swallow.
The blurriness begins to fade. The weight of her head feels lighter.
Slowly, she is able to make out blue washed walls, reminding her of the ocean she would see in the books she sneaked to read, adorned with ornate gold frames holding beautiful paintings like those she’d seen in The Madam’s office.
Large windows extend from floor to ceiling, enveloped with draperies rich in violets, teals, and fuchsias—similar to the full blooms sitting on a gilded table a few inches to her right.
This room feels nothing like the rooms at The Madam’s. But though foreign, there is a warmth in here that is oddly relaxing.
An orange glow casts shadows that dance in time to the happy crackling of a fireplace before her, seizing her attention to the elderly man sitting at the foot of her bed.
She freezes.
Another guest?
Where was his mask?
She grips tightly onto the blanket over her, eyes never leaving the elderly gentleman’s as memories race through her mind, attempting to catch up to reality.
The brothel... tea... Madam.
A tingling sensation runs through and down her back.
Mr. Vandenbergh.
She jerks up with a gasp and pain floods through her.
“Ah!”
“Easy now.” A considerate, baritone voice beside her cautions. She winces as a young man gently nudges her back into the pillows, wearing an expression of genuine concern Meredith had never once received.
She glances back to the elderly man at the foot of the bed, his pitiful gaze almost endearing, paternal.
“W-Where am I?” Her voice, barely above a whisper, sounds so feeble and pathetic to her own ears.
“I’m Jay, and this is my father, Edgar.” The young man introduces, before his eyes flit to the bandages she now feels around her with a grimace.
“You were getting beaten up pretty bad, the doctors weren’t even sure you’ll make it.”
He looks away, eyes narrowing dangerously. “If I could, I would have beaten that bastar—”
“What my son means to say is,” Edgar cuts in, giving Jay a warning glare before turning to look at her. “Is that you’re thankfully well and safe in our home. No one will hurt you here.”
Meredith’s eyes travel over the distinguished older man with slight wrinkles and silvery-gray hair neatly parted and combed to one side.
How he spoke, both polite and dignified with a hint of authority, speaks to his exemplary upbringing. One that was rich and powerful, like Mr. Vandenbergh.
Except he exuded a quiet warmth, of gentle kindness.
She relaxes slightly and gives him a small smile.
The younger man beside her inches closer. She thrusts her body against the headboard, ignoring the pain as she recoils her knees to her chest, shielding herself beneath the covers.
Jay throws up his hands. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He takes a few steps back to ease her discomfort.
Meredith studies him. He looks to be a lot older than her, possibly by 10 years or more. Tall, handsome, with earnest eyes. She can discern the features he shares with his father.
“What’s your name?” Jay asks softly.
She swallows. “Mer-Mere-Meredith.”
Jay nods and gives her a reassuring smile.
“Well Meredith, I wouldn’t prefer you to go back so, if you’d like, you can stay here with us.” Jay looks to his father, who gives a subtle nod.
“My old man here’s getting on with age, and he could use a little helper like yourself—just the usual mundane things like going down the stairs, getting him coffee—the works.”
Meredith tightens the hold around her blanket, uncertain of his generosity.
She remembers all too well how men who frequented The Red House would appear kind and caring. Luring her in with all sorts of compliments and candy before their façade faded to reveal their true cruelty.
Jay let’s out a small chuckle. “Don’t tear yourself up over it, Meredith, you look ready to burst a vessel.”
Meredith relaxes her brows, unaware how scrunched up they’d become as she pondered his offer. She sensed this place was much safer than she could ever hope for, but five long years under The Madam’s iron grip was enough to earn her hesitation.
She fights against the instinct to draw back further into the covers as Edgar stands.
“Let her get some rest, son. We can pick this up in the morning after she’s had a good night’s sleep. Would you prefer that, Meredith?”
She feels their eyes on her and gives a small nod.
“Good. Come Jay, we still have much to discuss.” Edgar states, gliding out of the room.
Jay eases towards the door but stops mid-step before he whirls back to her. Meredith flinches away, eyes never leaving him as he strides to small paper bag on the table.
Meredith can’t help the small gasp as he plucks out a fluffy bunny stuffie.
Jay smiles. “I know we don’t know each other too well and you’ve gone through a lot but, I thought you could use a little friend.” He fiddles with the stuffie, tugging at its long ears before meeting her stunned gaze.
“May I come closer to give this to you?”
Meredith managed a soft ‘yes’.
Grinning, Jay walked slowly towards her and placed the bunny beside her. Meredith tentatively stroked its soft fur.
“The doctor’s coming by tomorrow morning to check on you again. Get some rest, okay?”
Meredith looked up to see Jay already out the door. Just as he disappeared from view, she quickly whispered a hoarse “Goodnight.”
The door paused and Jay peeked back in, face beaming.
“Goodnight Meredith.”
Meredith snuggled back into the pillow, hugging her stuffie tightly. Her eyes fluttered closed to crooked fragments of lying in a lush green field next to a little boy echoing sounds of jubilant laughter.
A familiar lullaby weaves through her fading consciousness, and an angelic face with golden eyes lulls her into her first peaceful slumber.
~~~
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