Chapter 9 : Theo's story

"What about his mother?" he asked, curiosity threading his voice.

"At that time, Aunt Maya was away on her mission." Glancing back at him, "That's why she wasn't at the mansion."

The word mission lingered in the air, heavier than job, and it piqued his interest. "What kind of mission was Theo's mother on?" he pressed, his voice low but insistent.

Her eyes in a playful glint, a sly smile curling her lips, "You'll be surprised when you hear this."

His curiosity deepened, a spark igniting in his chest, "Surprised? What kind of mission could it be?" he asked, leaning closer.

She whispered, as though sharing a secret meant only for the wind to carry, "A tea party."

He blinked, his expression blank and narrowing into one of mild disbelief, he stared at her, "...Are you jealous of Theo's mother?"

She flustered, her cheeks tinged with pink and tensed slightly before mumbling, "Well... maybe?"

He let out a sighed, shaking his head, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"Aunt Maya said she was on a mission. What else could I say?" she huffed, her tone defensive but playful.

Suddenly, just as quickly, her face grew serious again, her gaze shifting forward. "Anyway, back to the story."

She took a breath, her voice steadying, "While the servants were searching for Theo, Aunt Maya suddenly returned from her tea party."

The word suddenly caught his attention and tilted his head. "What do you mean by suddenly?"

"Aunt Maya usually returns before sunset, but this time, she came back when the sun was directly overhead—the very moment Theo disappeared."

A pang of sadness suddenly struck him and remember some past memory, "So... she knew something was wrong?"

"Yes. A mother's instinct, I suppose."

The words struck a chord deep within him, and for a moment, he was lost in memory. He thought of his own mother, how she had once rushed home from work when he was feverish, despite him never telling her. He had tried to hide it, not wanting to burden her, yet she had come to home in a hurry, as though she could sense his pain across the distance.

A mother's instinct is never wrong.

he thought, his heart heavy.

She noticed his distant gaze and hesitated, her voice softening, "Are you okay?"

Her concern only made the weight in his chest grow heavier. He tightened his embrace around her, as though holding back tears, grounding himself in the present.

"Urgh! Why are you squeezing me so tight?!" she gasped, her voice strained, struggling against his hold.

"...Just continue," he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion.

She huffed in frustration, smacked her hands against his arms. "How am I supposed to continue when you're crushing my stomach?!"

Realizing his mistake, he loosened his grip slightly, muttering an apology, "I'm sorry..."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Hah... fine. Where was I?"

He steadied himself, pushing his emotion aside, "When Theo's mother returned."

As soon she remember, her voice took on a storytelling cadence once more, "As soon as Aunt Maya returned, the servants were in chaos."

He exhaled slowly, his voice steadying. "Who wouldn't panic? The mistress of the mansion returns and find her child missing."

"Exactly,"

She continued, her tone growing more dramatic, "The moment Aunt Maya stepped into the mansion, all the servants fell to their knees, begging for forgiveness."

His eyes widened in shock and disbelief of what happened in the story, "Why would they do that? Why kneel instead of searching for Theo? Wasn't Theo's mother furious?"

"Of course she was furious," Her voice carried a sharp edge, "The moment she saw them kneeling, she didn't even need to ask what happened. The sight of them kneeling told her everything. She was angry that they were wasting time begging for mercy instead of looking for her son."

She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "But before she could give them orders, something clicked in her mind. The old closet in the storage house."

He frowned, curiosity and confusion mingling in his expression, "A closet? What does that have to do with Theo?"

"Nothing... or at least, that's what it should've been. But Aunt Maya seemed to know something. She lift her gown, kicked off her high heels and ran barefoot toward the storage house outside the mansion."

"She ran barefoot?" he echoed, incredulous.

"Yes. The servants were stunned. They chased after her, worried about her feet, but she paid them no mind."

"She must have realized something." he mused.

"Indeed. As she neared the storage house, she saw it, the right iron door wide open. Without hesitation, she rushed inside. The head steward, meanwhile, ordered the servants back to their duties, though a few were sent to fetch medicine—just in case."

As she spoke, she noticed the city looming in the distance. She gently tugged the reins, bringing the horse to a halt. He felt the shift and looked at her, puzzled.

"Why are we stopping?"

"We're close to the city. It's time to get down."

"What about the rest of story?"

"We'll continue later. For now, dismount."

Several seconds passed in silence, neither of them moving. She glanced at him, confused, "Why aren't you getting down?"

He hesitated, lowering his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know how to get down."

She groaned, slapping her forehead, "I forgot you don't know how to ride a horse."

She sighed deeply, "Hah... I suppose that means I have to get down first?"

He nodded sheepishly, "Well... yes?"

She sighed again, her breath carrying a hint of exasperation, "Hah... Okay, I'll get down, but let go of me first."

Reluctantly, he released his arms from around her waist, the warmth of her presence fading as she shifted. She lifted her right leg with practiced ease, swinging it forward and over the horse's left side. She carefully Lowered herseld, her black leather shoes touched the ground softly, sinking slightly into the lush green grass, then she turned to face him.

"Raise both your hands up,"

He obeyed, lifting his arms high above his head, the dark brown cloak clutched in his right hand. She reached up, standing on her toes, straining to reach him, but the height of the horse made it impossible for her to lift him down easily.

"I can't reach you," frowning slightly.

A flicker of fear and nervousness crossing his face, "Then... What should I do?"

She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "Hmm..." After a moment, an idea struck her, "Lift your right leg toward me first."

He hesitated, then swung his left leg awkwardly over the horse's neck, facing her. He glanced down at the ground, his stomach churning at the distance. The horse seemed impossibly tall, and even though she was tall herself, she couldn't quite reach him.

Seeing his hesitation, she asked, "Can you get down from the horse?"

He blanched, shaking his head vigorously. "You want me to jump? No!"

She sighed and gave him a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, I'll catch you."

He swallowed hard, his trust in her outweighing his fear. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, letting himself fall. Before he could hit the ground, her arms wrapped around him, steadying him with surprising strength. She held him for a moment, ensuring he was secure, then gently lowered him to the grass. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, she took the dark brown cloak from his hand and shook it out with a flourish.

Holding the cloak by its key points—the ends of the collar—she draped it over his shoulders. Her fingers brushed against his collarbone as she fastened the clasp, the cool metal clicking into place. She adjusted the hood, pulling it up to shield his face from view.

"This is how to wear it." she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

"Oh..." he murmured, finally understanding.

She grabbed the horse's reins with her right hand and took his right hand in her left.

"Let's walk to the main road over there." she said, gesturing toward a narrow, grassless trail that wound through the hills.

They made their way to the path, the horse following obediently behind. When they reached the trail, she tightened her grip on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt. She released the reins and stepped in front of him then crouched down, her eyes level with his.

"Before we go any further, I need to ask you something." she said, her tone serious.

He tilted his head, curious, "What is it?"

"You don't know my name, do you?"

He blinked, realizing she was right. Feeling a little guilty, he nodded, "No, I don't."

She smiled softly, "My name is Emma. Remember that."

He nodded, committing it to memory. "Okay."

She stood, brushing off her hands, and took his hand again as well as the horse's rein, leading him and the horse along the winding path. The landscape around them was hilly, the town still hidden from view.

He squinted into the distance, confusion knitting his brow, "I don't see the town at all."

"Of course you don't," she replied, her voice light, "The ground we're on is hilly. The town is in a flat area just ahead. It's hidden from sight here until we reaching further."

He frowned, still puzzled, "But how do you know the town is there if you can't see it?"

She hesitated, her steps slowing for a moment, "It's not about seeing it," she said carefully, "I've been to this town many times. I simply know where the town is."

He nodded, though his expression suggested he wasn't entirely convinced, "Okay, I understand."

But deep down, she knew the town was near—not because of familiarity, but because of something else, something she wasn't ready to share.