GRANDIOSE SCHEME OF LIBERTY

❝

"YOU'RE—!?"

She attempted to speak but with no success, for she and her companion, Helena, were quickly ushered by their two servants into the carriage. The maid slightly tore the fabric of Charlotte's sleeve, and Helena's shriek rang as her foot brushed against the entrance steps. 

Before Charlotte could utter another protest, the large door was slammed shut with a loud bang, sealing the two young ladies in darkness that seemed to smother their breath. How thick it was, the air inside the carriage—so much so that it faintly smelled of incense and old wood, driving Charlotte's heart into a race. Her heart pounded, while Helena had instinctively clutched her arm. They exchanged a glance laden with fear as their eyes adjusted to the dimness inside.

Seated across from them was a mature woman, cloaked in divided and austere nobility. She wore a wide-brimmed hat, and though her eyes were concealed by a silk blindfold, Charlotte felt the force of her unseen gaze. Next to the lady stood her perfectly still butler and a maid whose stance was too still, so perfect. The air inside teemed with utmost authority.

Charlotte felt fear twisting in her chest, but with trembling lips, she managed to ask, "Mr. Roosevelte?" She had now fixed her gaze on the features she found so familiar in the butler. They registered something—an echo of the safe—but drew nothing of comfort. Only more confusion.

Vladimir bowed his head slightly. "It is quite a lengthy tale, I assure thee, My Lady..." he replied, his voice gentle with a tinge of remorse. But this calmness did nothing to calm her, and it only fed the shivers down her spine. 

Before she could inquire further, the blindfolded woman stepped in. "Forgive me for the rather hasty interference," she said, her smooth voice like velvet adorned with hidden intent. "Charlotte, isn't it?"

Charlotte stiffened. That sudden and casual way of calling her name sent chills running down her spine. "How is it that you know my name, Madam?" Her words were strained as they passed through a tightening throat.

The woman tilted her chin upward slightly, her expression unreadable beneath the hat and blindfold. "I have known your mother for a long time... many years to be exact." 

Charlotte leaned back in her seat, tense. Her fingers gripped the edge of the cushion beneath her as she studied the woman with sharp suspicion. "You are acquainted with my mother? Who exactly are you? For I am utterly ignorant of your identity."

"My humblest apologies for not introducing myself beforehand, fair maiden," came the woman with a voice dripping with the refined pretense learned long before. "I am Countess Dorothea Amelia Grimoard of House Grimoard."

Charlotte blinked; that was a name she had never heard before. "Grimoard?" she repeated, letting the syllables linger while watching the face for clues. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your House."

Dorothea chuckled faintly, the sound more knowing than amused. "No, that shouldn't surprise you. We are not those who are on the tongues of idle court gossip. Yet we are not without our own ... presence."

She took a long, quiet drag from her antique smoking pipe. The smoke curled like fingers, rising to dance with the shadows inside the carriage. "Still, I have my means of knowing things. For instance, I know you prefer to make art when you are alone. You pass by the library every second day, and your favorite spot is near the eastern window. You sometimes bring a handkerchief stitched with lilac thread when you're nervous, and you always linger by the dress shops longer than most, as if weighing the worth of every thread against expectations too heavy for one so young."

Charlotte's eyes widened in horror. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was too precise. Too real. Too watched. 

"I make it my business to know people before I meet them," added Dorothea, calmly. "It saves me time— and reveals their truth far better than introductions." 

Almost unable to nod, Charlotte felt the atmosphere close in with secrets. This was no random encounter. No coincidences. She had been watched-observed. The purpose of her abduction was not for ransom but has some higher calling. 

She could feel the rising terror now coupled with something darker. This was calculated, this was contrived, and she had been a piece on their board much longer than she thought. 

Charlotte's sharp, observant eyes crossed over the countess, taking note of everything from the finery of her dress to the pearls hanging loosely at her throat and then to the fragile blindfold that concealed her eyes. The last caught her off guard. Blind? Thought snuck into her mind. Dramatically, this made the woman even more unreadable—so in control, so held together, unreadable. 

"I heard whispered rumors," began the countess playfully, her voice washing like silk in mid-air, "that you shall wed the valiant Prince of Luxtonia." 

Charlotte forced a tight-lipped smile in the effort not to give away the storm inside. "That is so," she said, her tone carefully neutral, "one's passions must never be sacrificed at the altar of duty. Much better to be oneself."

"Is that so?" Dorothea leaned with a smile that never left her lips, back against the velvet seat. Her posture was languid, her voice calm, but there was a firm command beneath her pleasant tone that Charlotte found uneasy. 

"Then perhaps," the Countess continued, "I may assist you in staying true to yourself."

Charlotte blinked. "Pardon?"

"I am sure you desire to avoid this marriage. Let me aid you," came the easy words from Dorothea, far too easy. "In turn, I request assistance from you in a certain case of a certain mind and presence such as yours."

Words flew at Charlotte like the sudden wind, unexpected and hard to grab. She hesitated, her fingers curling in her lap. "You...wish to make a bargain?" 

"I wish to present you with a choice." Dorothea tilted her head slightly. "You gain your freedom from the engagement, and I will have your cooperation. Fair and simple, isn't it?" 

But Charlotte's heart stirred uneasily. Her eyes flicked to Helena, silently seated beside her as always—placid, serene, and withholding all manner of emotion. The smile she offered Charlotte now was scant comfort. It told her nothing. 

Too sudden. Too unreal. Too favorable. 

Charlotte knitted her brows. "Freedom just like that? And what?-all I have to do is help her out with her mysterious case? What if it's a trap? What if she's lying about knowing everything about my mother?" 

Her voice fell almost into a whisper, but with a firm caution, "I'm sorry, but I'm terribly hesitant for me to agree to anything so easily. This... feels so sudden. So unnatural. I don't even know who you really are." 

Dorothea's smile did not waver. "You are wise to be cautious. But do not allow fear to rule your desires. I know more about your mother than you could ever believe-and I know what you truly want." 

Charlotte shook her head. "Even so, I shall not accept your offer. Not like this." 

Charlotte sat silently, the weight of the choice heavily upon her shoulders. She could feel the pull of the unknown, the mystery of the offer ever calling her into a world far away from her own. In a fleeting moment, she glanced at Helena, who, as always, had not uttered a word, her face an unreadable mask. Her friend's silence was equal parts reassuring and a reminder that this was Charlotte's decision alone. 

Dorothea, for her part, showed no signs of wavering in regard to Charlotte's indecision. Leaning forward slightly, her tone softened further, as though allowing Charlotte to partake in a secret meant only for her. 

"I can see why you might have doubts about me," she said softly. "Who can blame you? But do remember the real truth of the matter, my dear." Calm as ever, her voice could not shake off the urgency contained in it, an element which was not lost on Charlotte.

"You are at the crossroads of your life," prodded Dorothea, her words like a gentle stream into Charlotte's mind which is hard to resist. "A marriage to a prince, duty, expectations, and endless sacrifices. Or a chance to live freely, to carve your own path, unburdened by the chains that bind so many others. It's not an easy choice, I know. But it's a choice that many would envy." Charlotte could feel the pull of Dorothea's words, as though the countess had reached into her heart and gently placed bare truth before her. 

There was a kind of piercing focus behind the blindfold as Dorothea eyeing Charlotte from deep within a well of unlit thoughts. It almost appeared as if the countess could see into her soul. The words she spoke were not merely an invitation; instead, they were a mirror disclosing to Charlotte what she had always known, but never dared confront.

"Tell me, Charlotte," Dorothea said, almost now the softness enveloping Charlotte's very thoughts. "How long do you plan on keeping yourself away from what lies inside your desire? How long will you keep standing in the shadow of a life expected by others?" 

This started to send Charlotte's heart racing. Even the gentleness and cutting quality of such words left her breathless. Duty was taught as the highest calling one could embrace in one's life, that she was so destined to serve the kingdom and fulfill the family obligations. But now... now, the possibility of something different stirred within her. "All I ask," the countess had continued with a still warm but very firm tone, "is for you to take this first step with me. That's it. You owe it to yourself to find out what's beyond the way you've been told to live."

Charlotte felt like the silence stretched tight with the weight of the incident. Suddenly in her chest was the increased pressure build-up. Utterly careful and always cautious, she succumbed into deeper thought-more urgent evidence. The possibility of freedom. The possibility of something real. "You do not have to decide everything at once," Dorothea's voice smoothed over Charlotte's thoughts with re-assurance. "Just think what could await you-a world in which everything is possible. An opportunity to help others and, perhaps, to make a difference. A chance, at last, to become something more than just another noblewoman chained by her name." 

Charlotte's mind was going to whirl. The life Dorothea offered her was even uncertain but also liberations she never dared dream off. Was the risk worth it? Could she trust this woman knowing so much about her though remaining a stranger? "Think for a bit," was the last of Dorothea's words which were all almost soothing. "But know this, Charlotte; whatever it is you have in mind, there would be no time again for such an opportunity." 

Words hung in the air like a promise or perhaps a warning. Charlotte could feel the pull, the desire to escape the confines of her world, and yet, a part of her hesitated. The fear of the unknown and the wrong choice gnawed at her. Yet there was something else-a quiet spark of rebellion, a longing to be free to live her own terms.

With a slow, measured breath, Charlotte finally spoke, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I will listen to your case, Countess. But I cannot promise anything beyond that."

Charlotte eventually spoke aloud, with slow and measured breath, and steady in her voice despite the turmoil raging within her. "I will listen to your case, Countess. But I cannot promise anything beyond that." 

"Of course, my dear," she replied, light-heartedly," as Dorothea's smile grew calm and patient. "But know this, sometimes the first step is the hardest. And after that, the path often becomes clearer than we ever imagined."

Dorothea leaned a little more toward her as her voice deepened into a serious and soft approach. "The case that I want you to think about, Charlotte, is of Viktor Corvisant Calestinia, the last known heir to the Calestinia family. His death— well, if you want my opinion, it was execution-more happened in the year... in 1855. But till today, it remains a mystery." The pause continued for a moment to let the force of her words sink in before she continued.

"But authorities, after some early investigation, thought it too complicated, too dangerous, and closed the whole business. Viktor, once considered the hopeful future for the family, was found dead under circumstances which raised more questions than answers. Whispers abound concerning his death, orchestrated by forces with far-reaching power, but no one has dared uncover the truth since."

A flicker of intrigue entered Charlotte. The Calestinia name, one of the most august in the country, had always meant honor, power, and wealth. To think that such a family could hide anything, especially something as dark as a murder within their ranks-it was both shocking and puzzling.

Then, sped on, her voice now urgent, by something greater. "The Calestinia family were known to be people of great material achievement, great diplomats, great warriors, and good scholars. They had and held not only a great deal of influence in the kingdom but were also respected by many outside their own borders. But for some time now, this history has been erased and buried under a veil of silence. People stopped talking about the Calestinias, and the younger generation knows quite little about their legacy."

Charlotte's brows knitted together, puzzling over the scraps of information she'd put together so far. "But what should happen to their legacy, you know? How can this family just vanish from history like this?"

Dorothea's lips curled up into a thin smile, lacking warmth. "Ah, that's the interesting bit," she replied, her tone taking on a deeper, more conspiratorial edge. "The royal family ordered the Calestinia records destroyed. All information about their heritage, their achievements, their ties to the crown-they were wiped away as if they had never existed. Some say it was to protect the nation from the shame of what was uncovered, others say it was to erase any trace of the Calestinias' true role in the kingdom's darker dealings. It is believed that Viktor's death was linked to this very cover-up, though the official records insist he simply 'disappeared.'"

Charlotte's heart started racing as a new urgency overtook her. "But Viktor didn't go missing— he was murdered." A knot tightened in her stomach. With every passing moment, it was becoming all too clear just how massive was the proposition Dorothea was making.

"Exactly," agreed Dorothea, just with a blink of her eyes. "Viktor did not just disappear— he got killed. And not just a murder, murder committed by nameless men hiding in the shadows. It has been officially reported as self-destruction, but that's a lie, Charlotte. A very convenient lie to cover a much more sinister truth. The sin, so unforgivable it could ruin their reputation, was committed by the Calestinia family. And to keep that foreign constituency from creating a scandal, someone sent an assassin and took their lives- buried everything with him about his family." Charlotte blinked, her understanding dawning. "But why? What is it with all that fuss about totally hiding their identity and background?" 

Dorothea sighed, her face clouding up with grief. "That's what I intend to find out. Viktor was not an accident but attached to a much larger conspiracy which involves buried secrets so deep that even the royal family would wish to forget them. The Calestinia family had some secret or involvement that threatened the very foundation of the kingdom." 

Listening came to an end, and Helena's voice resounded in the space that by now was very quiet. "My Lady, I believe you were right to suspect that there is something that could be worth more than the common case. This is something about the truth coming out, justice brought long overdue, and not something many would experience." She turned her gaze to Charlotte, then added, "The choice, of course, is yours." 

Charlotte felt the weight of what she said press down on her shoulders. It was much more than an opportunity, it was the promise of revolutionizing everything, the unearthing of truths that had lain buried for generations. But the choice was not easy. Her mind raced, thoughts clouded by doubt and fear. "I must confess," began Charlotte, her voice quavering a little as the thoughts were actually voiced, "it is terrifying. I mean, what if these people are just going to threaten my family to manipulate me? What if I make the wrong decision?" 

Charlotte, however, thus leaned back and thus composed herself. "That is the risk of seeking the truth, Charlotte. But ponder: the truth will be denied forever. And should you decide to cling to silence, you might lose the possibility of revealing some forgotten truth." 

Charlotte's heart began to race as fear paralyzed her otherwise. She had always lived in a world set down with rules and expectations whose first yield made this seem different. This-would break all that. And though she feared what might come of it, she also felt the pull of something deeper-a need to know the truth whatever it is. 

She took a very long pause before finally nodding her head. She was quite determined now. "I'll help you, Countess. I'll investigate this case of yours." 

Dorothea's smile returned this time but more with approval than jest. "I knew I could count on you, Charlotte. And know this, whatever you uncover, we will face it together." 

Charlotte felt that heavy burden of her decision settle in, but now it was not the same weight. It felt much more like the first step toward something bigger than any of what she could have ever imagined.

In the aftermath, Charlotte sat in her carriage, thoughts racing through her mind. The weight of her decision had felt much heavier as she pondered, now ironically, the seriousness of the case and the dangers that remained unspoken around it. She had agreed, yes, but what she was really getting into was still not clear. The mystery around the Calestinia family and Viktor's death, the secrecy, and the unease surrounding Dorothea's strange behavior left Charlotte disturbed.

"Helena... If I escape for my freedom... I don't think I couldn't leave you behind," whispered Charlotte, with a hint of emotion in her voice. "You and Auntie Eleanor are my only real family left in the estate, Helena."

Helena's eyes softened even more, and for an instant, it was as if time slowed down, the noise of the carriage and the outside world fading away. Charlotte waited for her response with a very heavy heart about losing the one closest companion.

But, Helena shook her head slowly, and a faint but firm expression crossed her face. "My lady, I will not leave you behind but neither will I follow you."

Charlotte blinked, astonished at her retort. "What do you mean?" 

Helena drew a long breath and opened her mouth: "I also have obligations to your family, Charlotte. Your parents need me, and my younger siblings still require my care. There is no way to leave them all." 

That sobered Charlotte. It was like a sudden gale striking, with her heart sinking. Suddenly, it felt much heavier; after all, the recognition that Helena wouldn't be there to support her while entering an unknown territory made it worse. 

"You mean..." Charlotte began, her voice shaky. "You'll stay?" 

Helena nodded solemnly. "I have to, my lady. You have your own path to walk now, and I have mine. I will help you from here, however I can, but here is where I must part with you." 

Charlotte's chest tightened, and it was impossible not to feel a deep jab of pain. "It won't be the same without you." 

Helena's smile was bittersweet, her eyes brimming with understanding. "You're stronger than you know, Charlotte. You don't need me to fight your battles. But I will always be there for you. Always." 

There was an expanse of silence as the gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon them both. Charlotte swallowed hard against the emotions bubbling up. For her, there was always Helena, the one constant in her life. To lose that companion, even for a short time, was unthinkable. 

"I'll write to you," Charlotte said softly, almost too quiet. 

Helena nodded, her smile warm, if sad. "Waiting for your letters. You are not alone, my lady. No matter where your steps will lead, there will be a home with us." 

"And my lady, you've made a difficult and wise choice, but sometimes the answers we seek are hidden in the most unexpected places," murmured Helena with a soft yet strong voice squeezing her hand. Charlotte looked at her, grateful for the quiet comfort.

"Yes, but still… I cannot take things for granted, but somehow, I cannot shake the feeling that we are being purposely deceived. What has come out is not sufficient for me to reason upon." Helena nodded but with calmness in her eyes. "I understand, my lady. Whatever happens, I trust you. You will see anything that may be untrue, provided there is such a thing. But be careful." 

Charlotte set her clear orbs on the darkening landscape outside the carriage window. Her mind had now become conflicting. She had made a choice; she should follow through with it. Yet, in the back of her mind, doubts lingered as to whether the choice she had just made was not a further fall into a guileful web she could have not outlawed.

The silence in the carriage stretched out, interrupted only by the sound of wheels gently humming over cobblestone. A gentle pat on the roof pulled her away from her thoughts; they had reached the place she called home. 

As the carriage came to a halt, Dorothea resumed her speech with more composure and said, "Since we've settled this matter, see you later, Charlotte. I trust you'll manage the arrangements for what is to follow. This whole matter will need a steady hand, just like every truth." 

Charlotte nodded, but the mind was still in a whirl. "I am not one to dive into anything I don't understand. However, I have decided. Henceforth, I will assist you, your ladyship, but on the understanding that you will treat me fairly, clarify all your intentions, and respect my boundaries." 

There was a pause, and then Dorothea answered with the faintest ghost of a smile that failed to reach her eyes. "All right, dear. Trust is earned; that much I know. You will see that your help does matter to me. About the death of Viktor, well, the truth is buried. I intend to unearth it at all costs."

A shiver ran down Charlotte's spine at Dorothea's words. There was no doubt left in Charlotte's mind now; the Countess was resolute in digging out anything that long lay hidden in the darkness of the claws that enveloped the Calestinia family. 

Before Charlotte could speak, something interrupted her train of thoughts. It was strange: now, those unblinking eyes of Dorothea's, hidden by that blindfold through the whole conversation, had turned upon her. Some flicker of suspicion rose deep in her chest but was snuffed out just as quickly, held down beneath the surface.

"One more thing," said Charlotte, concerned about lacing her voice. "Why blindfold, your ladyship? The real reason?" 

For a moment, the expression sharpened on Dorothea's face; something bright flashed in her eyes. Then she released a gentle breath, apparently weighing her words carefully. 

"Let us say... I have learned to see with other senses." The cryptic response was given with icy aloofness, signifying that the discussion was no longer of any importance to her.

Charlotte pressed her lips, her curiosity unsatisfied, yet she would not press it further. She would learn the truth in time, she told herself. At this moment, the matter of utmost urgency was the mismatch shrouding Viktor's death and the ominous forces maneuvering behind its scenes.

Helena witnessed Charlotte's pensive mood but maintained her silence, hoping her mind would shed clarity. The carriage jolted slightly as Dorothea's driver started the return to the Deloney estate. 

Dorothea cast another look at Charlotte, her lip upturned into a smile. "This is just the beginning, my dear. The Calestinia's secrets are buried deep, but with your help, we will unearth what is lost. And don't forget… the midnight ticks in."

The carriage moved off into the sunset, away from the shadows of the past; with a hard clatter, it soon disappeared from view, leaving the two ladies alone and to their own devices. 

Everything stood still, marked only by the echoes of the silent air and the quiet breaths of Charlotte and Helena. One could tell from their expressions that this meeting was both mysterious and secretive. 

Once the two young ladies stepped into the grounds of the mansion, Charlotte was accosted by a familiar face, with an equally familiar gesture. Her sister stood by the main door, grinning mischievously. It was sarcasm wrapped in mischief directed towards her younger sibling. 

"Well, well, if it isn't my little sister..." Done in mockery, the words were laced with a smirk as though they had an entire history and dynamic of their own. Certainly, it did no favors to the fact that her sister's face radiated confidence and superiority as if she were the one holding the trump card in this encounter with Charlotte. 

"I am glad to see you here at this hour, Carmelia...."