The Prick Of The Consciousness.

"Welcome back, father." Beatrice said, as she leapt into his arms, "Be careful, Beatrice." Her father told her, in a seemingly exhausted manner. "So, how did it go?" His wife interrogated, as she strode up towards him. "How did what go?" Beatrice innocently inquired, as she looked from her mother back to her father. "You are so nosy, this child." Her mother said, as she flicked Beatrice on the forehead. The latter rubbed her head, with a little bit of tears in her eyes. That flick...was specifically painful. "Did you see that father?!" Beatrice complained, not noticing how exhausted her father looked. "Enough with your tantrums. Go and fetch Martella for me, quickly." Querrin ordered, with much urgency in her voice. "Martella was here moments before; you could just have requested what you it was that you needed at that moment." Beatrice grumbled, while pouting her lips. "Such a rebellious attitude, do you wish for me to strike you first?" Querrin asked, as she raised her hand. Of course, it was just an act so that Beatrice would adhere to the instructions she was given. "I was just joking, mother!" Beatrice exclaimed, as she ran out of the manor laughing. Querrin craned her neck after her daughter; ensuring that she had gone a good distance before turning to her husband, of whom had collapsed unto the chair. "So, did the marquis concur?" She inquired, after scrutinizing every corner to ensure that they were indeed alone. "He did." The Baron simply replied. Querrin smiled warmly- she had believed it to be rather difficult to convince someone of such a high caliber to agree to such terms. "All Is good then." She said, as she seated herself gracefully beside her husband. "Beatrice will be overjoyed to hear this." Hiran glanced at his wife, who was humming steadily under her breath. He was pondering if he should tell her or not- it had been a while since he saw her happy. "Dear." He began. "Yes?" The Baroness replied, as she turned to him with a huge smile. "What Is the matter?" She inquired once more, a slight frown slowly making an appearance unto her feautures. He was hiding something from her, she knew. She knew him just like the back of her palm. "I relinquished ownership of the mine to the marquis." The baron said, as he finally summoned up the courage to make that declaration. The slight frown on the face of the Baroness transformed Into an unsightly scowl. "Whatever do you mean?" She questioned. "Did we discuss such an affair beforehand before making such a critical decision?" She inquired, her voice nearly rising. "It has not been legally formalized yet! It is just a verbal agreement of some sorts." The baron immediately explained himself. "A verbal agreement, is that it?" The Baroness began, as she stared at her husband as though she were looking into the depths of his soul. "And the following day, you will grant him the papers to sign on them, isn't that so?" She continued, her scowl causing fine lines to appear on her forehead. "What us it exactly that transpired between the both of you which caused you to relinquish the ownership of the mine, of all things?" Querrin had to inquire. "It was not out of choice." The baron muttered silently, as he gazed down at his hands. "That was the only thing that could sufficenfly appease George to consent to my request." He added. The Baroness placed her hand on her head. "The only reason why I even agreed to this Marriage, is so Beatrice could live happily." She began, in a disconcerted voice. "It would also be beneficial to this family as well, if our future in laws were wealthy enough aid us financially also. But this.." She gripped her dress tightly. "He probably heard rumors about how much income we generate from the mine, and that is the reason he targeted it specifically." The baron explained. "And Eras? What about him? That mine, ought to be his inheritance; it is the only noteworthy asset this family posseses." Querrin went on, the reason for her despair obvious. "This is just how life is, Querrin." The baron began, as he wrapped his hand around his Wife's shoulder, seemingly to comfort her. "There is nothing I can do about it. The elites of society will, and always prey on the weak. Those are the conventions of society." He added, as his wife rested her head on his shoulder. As for the baron, he had longed resigned himself to his fate. "Do you not consider it amusing, Hiran?" Querrin began, a small smile on her face. "Growing up as the daughter of a maid, I had always been subjected to discrimination and hostility. I had always had the concept that, If I possibly got married to someone of a higher status, all this will end. But I was wrong. They classify us as nobles, yet they look down on us. Because we lack wealth? Influence? Is all of this truly a necessity?" She added in a low voice. "I don't want Beatrice to also be a victim of higher society. That is the reason I..." She broke off mid sentence, as though her voice had failed her. "They say people are not privileged to choose the destiny we were given." The baron said, as he rubbed his Wife's shoulder. "But at the very least, I was destined to meet you. That is good enough for me." He added, as his wife sniffed. The sound of a vase falling close to the staircase made the baron to look up. "Child, are you there?" He called out, although he was met with silence. "Now I am all the more certain that you are there, Eras." No sooner had he said that, than a younger looking version of Eras emerged, from underneath the staircase. He did not look up at his uncle and aunt, rather the young man had pre-occupied himself with placing the delicate vase on the platform from which it had fallen. "Uncle is this really.. the right thing to do?" He inquired In a solemn voice, before casting a pitiful gaze upon his uncle. "How much did you hear?" His aunt asked, as she arose from nestling against her husband's shoulder. "Everything." He replied, as he walked towards them. Querrin smiled in a sarcastic manner- it was really true when they said the walls had ears. Now the only thing she could wish for, is that other than him, no one else should have heard that. "Is it really alright to give Beatrice off as a collateral?" He asked. "What do you intend to imply?" His aunt asked, a slight frown on her face(once again) "The marquis demands our family mine just so he could he could allow for his son and Beatrice's marriage." Erastiel began. "What else is there to assume, if not for the proposition I mentioned earlier?" He inquired, in a calm tone, although his eyes were slightly red. "It is all for the better.." His uncle began. "My sister is not some item that you can trade off as you please!" Erastiel did not intend to scold, but he couldn't contain himself at that point. "If Beatrice found out, do you think she will be having pleasant emotions? Or will she be gratified in her marital home, knowing fully well what her family sacrificed for her sake?" He added. Upon not getting a reply from both adults, he turned away in vexation. "Wait." A slender arm held onto hid wrist firmly, causing him to pause in his steps. He turned around, just to behold his aunt gazing at him intently."To whence are you headed?" Querrin asked the Lad which stood before her. "To see Beatrice; You sent her out so she wouldn't overhear this conversation, under the guise of fetching martelle." He added, as he made an attempt to place his foot forward, but the hand held him back. "You shall do no such thing." "Beatrice deserves to be aware of this, it concerns her future." He argued, as he shrugged his aunt off. But his aunt dashed to the door, bolting it shut. "You shall do no such thing, unless you kill me first." Querrin uttered, a she gazed at her nephew. "Querrin!" Her husband cried out In alarm. "How could you let such things flow from your mouth.." "Just Stay out of this, Hiran!" The Baroness exclaimed, while giving her husband a sharp glare. "Eras." She called out softly, as she turned to her nephew, who stood before her. "I have never truly asked you for anything before, but now I have a favor to ask of you." She began, before staring directly into his eyes. "Beatrice should never have to find out about this situation, do you understand?" She inquired, her eyes pleading. "All I want is for her to be happy. As for the marquis's son, I have seen his demanor. He will surely treat her well. So please... Her poor heart will break if she comes to known of this. You know how she gets at times." She pressed on. Erastiel stared at the floor for some time. But subconsciously, he didn't realize when his hands that formed fists began to loosen. "Alright." He muttered, as he gazed back at his aunt. "Beatrice will remain ignorant in regards to this affair, if that is what you so desire, aunt." Erastiel said. "I am back- mother, why are you standing at the door?" Beatrice asked in a confused tone, while bringing along a companion- a maid, who courtsied as she paid her respects. "Nevermind, child." Her mother told her, as she immediately bolted away from the entrance. "Forgive me my lady, But the little Miss here stopped ever now and then to admire the flowers, hence the delay. " The maid, martella, explained. And sure enough, there seemed to be what seemed like a daisy on the damsel's hair. "Such a traitor." Beatrice muttered, as she clicked her tongue. "If I didn't give you away my lady, that flower would have most definitely will." Martella pressed on, although her face remained stoic. "Anyway, Martelle, there is a task I need you to perform in Beatrice's bedroom. Go." The Baroness instructed, as she impatiently waved at the maid. "Of course, my lady." Martelle bowed, before leaving. "Mother, what happened?" Beatrice asked, as she walked up to her mother. "What?" The Baroness was visibly confused, as she glanced at her child, who heard her hand warmly. "Father, did My mother shed tears?" She inquired. "That.. That.." The baron stuttered. Honestly this question had caught everyone off guard. "It is tears of joy, child." Querrin said, as she patted her child on the head. "Because the marquis.. has finally consented to the engagement between you and his son." She said, with a sly smile. "Really, is that so, father!" Beatrice exclaimed with joy, as she turned to the latter. Hiran simply nodded at her with a smile, he had to appreciate the way his wife tactfully handled the situation. "Do you hear that Eras? Well do you? I am so glad!" She said, as she grabbed her cousin by both hands, spinning him in circles on her frenzy. "Alright, alright, enough" Eras cried out, when he finally got dizzy. "I will finally meet the boy you never stopped yapping about, in four years." He said. "Four years could be equivalent to four days, for me." Beatrice refuted, not permitting her cousin's teasing to infuriate her. "Martelle!" She exclaimed as she bounded up the stairs. Erastiel watched her as she skipped delightfully. Although he was happy for her, he felt a pang In his chest for some reason.

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 The Door of the bathroom creaked open, and Beatrice stepped out. She stared for a brief moment, at the blonde-haired man which laid on the bed, with several complicated emotions flickering past her eyes. It was rather a surprise that the noise the door made did not rouse him; the man's eyelids did not even flicker for a moment irrespective of a scenario where he was actually roused from his slumber. She gingerly sat on his side of the bed, as quietly as she possibly could, before staring at his feautures. "I can't even despise you even if I wanted to." She muttered silently. "I will attribute that to you good looks; but still, why can't you be a good husband to me for once?" She thought silently to herself.

 She was more than aware of the time he arrived in the room, in that inconspicuous hour. She also pondered who it was that allowed him to gain access to the manor so late at night. On an average note, she would have likened that to him being in the office, until she saw Sylvester return back from the mine expedition, and alone at that. She subconsciously reached out to ruffle his hair, but her hand froze when he stirred. As of late, she seemed to have been given a period of respite; he seemed to have been so busy at the office that he no longer had time to abuse her, verbally or otherwise. She gave a low sigh, before proceeding to hang up the curtains. It was already day; the wee hours of the morning, and the orange disk, which slowly crept above the horizon, seemed larger than usual. "Uhm.." The man on the bed, grunted, as he used his hand to shield his eyes. He muttered something to himself, before sitting upright. "Where were you all through the night?" Beatrice inquired, as soon as he got out of bed. "Is that the way to say good morning?" Dennis asked, he walked past his wife, with a towel on his neck. "Don't get so hopeful because I have been lenient with you these days; you can't speak however you please to me." He told her. "Well forgive me, young Master." Beatrice clasped her hands in a mocking tone. "But you haven't given me the reply I wanted yet." Dennis did not feel the obligation to turn towards her, rather he stared at the crib, which lay in close proximity to Beatrice's side of the bed. "Do remember to inform Sebastian to move the crib to another room." He said simply. He probably did not noticed the crib due to the darkness which enveloped the room the previous night-if so, there would have been no need to react in the manner in which he did. "Were you with the black python last night?" Beatrice suddenly asked. If he was going to ignore her, she might as well ignore him. "Whatever I did last night Is none of your concern." He told her simply. But the arm that restrained him thought otherwise. "It is my concern." She began. "I am your wife, what affects you affects me as well." Dennis stared at her. Normally, she would flinch and immediately withdraw her gaze, but at this moment, she also returned the stare. "I am running late." Dennis told her, as he calmly unclasped her hand from his. "Whatever it was that I did, it was for the sake of the family." And with that, the door of the bathroom slammed shut.

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 "Move. You are taking up space." Dennis said, to the woman who had once again sat upon her usual spot. "Move? Where do you possibly expect me to move to, what If I get to the edge and I fall?" Cornelia said in a coquettish voice, as she observed her master through squinted eyes. "That will lean towards your own detriment, not mine." Dennis simply stated, as he Carried on with his occupations. "As cold as ever." Cornelia muttered under her breath, with a wry smile on her face. "You surprised me, you know." Cornelia said, as she swung her legs back and forth-that was her second most favored occupation other than sitting on Dennis's desk. "How so?" Dennis inquired, without bothering to spare her a glance. Getting familiar with her antics, he comprehended Cornelia to be a chatterbox. She felt slightly uncomfortable when the setting she was in was too silent, she had to ramble about something, even if it was nonsensical. "I was thinking that it was rather miraculous that you arrived In your manor safely, and with no casualties at that." She mused, as she stretched her hands upward. "It would be rather grievous if that occurs, indeed." Dennis agreed. Cornelia frowned, this man was complying with whatever she said without a moment's hesitation. "You are a terrible companion to speak with". She admitted, as she Pouted her lips. "I never compelled you to speak to me." Dennis stated, before he glanced at her. "Either you cease your actions, or you get down." He told her, in a strict manner. "Hmph." Cornelia Harrumphed as she temporarily stopped the swinging of her legs. "By the way, the plant, could you bring it over on your way to the office?" Dennis interrogated, as he gazed at her. For a split second, he thought he saw Beatrice in those brown eyes. Both women had the exact same shade of brown- just that Cornelia's was lighter. "Sure." Cornelia mumbled uncertainly, wondering what it was that occurred for Dennis to stare at her In such a way. "What do you intend to with it, anyway? Three thousand gold coins are no joke-you better make a good use of it." Cornelia told him, with a slight frown. "Beatrice's father runs a textile based business in the north." Dennis began, as he flipped over his documents. "I decided to get him something that could gain him an upper hand, since it was a very competitive business. I actually intend to send it over to him the next day- so don't forget to bring it along." Dennis added, as he directed a stern glare towards Cornelia. Which begged the question- ought he to be glaring at her? Did he not recall the manner in which she threatened to gouge out the eyes of Aiswan and his allies?

 "It seems like every single person Lady Beatrice's family Is a fool." Cornelia declared, with a slight frown on her face. Dennis momentarily rapped his pen against the document, causing Cornelia to glance at him. "You do recall our terms of agreement, or don't you?" Dennis inquired, as Cornelia tilted her head in his direction. "Of course. Both party and client should each not be involved in the personal life of the other, irregardless of circumstance." Cornelia recited, as though she had memorized the entire clause solely for this moment. "Watch that tongue of yours." Dennis warned her, focusing on his document once more. "It is rather ironical you know-you are free to curse them, but you don't let me vent my grievance out towards them." She said, as she resumed swinging her legs once more, much to the latter's annoyance. "I am pratically their son in law. I can utter whatever I please about them." Dennis told her plainly. "And what grievance could you possibly hold against them anyway?" He inquired, causing Cornelia to look away awkwardly. This damn tongue of hers. "What I am trying to say in retrospect, is that it is a rather foolish move to commence a textile business in a district that is majorly known for textile production." Cornelia proved her point, as she folded her arms. But Dennis paid her no heed. "At least, you are a good son-in-law.." She muttered steadily under her breath. Unfortunately, Dennis failed to capture that. A knock caused him to raise his head. "My lord, are you perharps busy at the moment? Your father will like to speak with you."

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 Dennis ascended the stairs alongside his companion, although there was a slight frown on his face. "Hey. Have you been feeding the old man properly?" Cornelia inquired, as she nudged him on the elbow. "Clause number two states, we will only maintain a master-servant relationship in the office setting." Cornelia proudly analysed, when she noticed the look he gave her. "We are still in the office setting- you are under my manor, are you not?" Dennis inquired, as he glanced at her. "You didn't have to tag along- now I can only be hopeful that you locked the office properly." He added. "Well of course I did, I won't want anyone snooping around my master's deep dark secrets." Cornelia said with a wink, causing Dennis to roll his eyes at her. "Just don't say anything foolish while you are In there, I beg of you." "What.." Unfortunately poor Cornelia could not complete her sentence, for her master had already begun to knock on the door. "Come in." Dennis heard his father say.

 Both Dennis and Cornelia stepped into the room. "Welcome, my unfilial son." George sarcastically remarked, as he crossed his legs on the chair of which he sat. "What is it that you want this time, father?" Dennis inquired, as he looked at the man. The little bit of Grey in his hair seemed to multiply in their number. "Did you have to bring her along with you?" The marquis inquired, as he gazed at Cornelia. The latter paid her respects to him. "She is my secretary." Dennis said simply. "I am sorry, but she doesn't have a need to be here. Kindly send her out." George simply stated. Cornelia nearly opened her mouth in shock- she was that flabbergasted! She was thinking that she would hear some juicy gossip! But Dennis was already waving his hand at her, a sign of dismissal. "Well then, have a good day M-my lord, young Master." Cornelia said as she bowed, feeling somewhat repulsed at the fact that she had to acknowledge such a shameless and disgusting man as her master. "There are rumors going around about how you obtained one of Heratck's mines." George simply began. "So?" Dennis inquired. That was a few days prior, but he seemed not to be surprised at how his father became aware of such an issue so quickly. "So?" His father repeated after him, somewhat dazzled at his reply. This was.. not the answer he was expecting. "He is your close friend afterall; I am quite surprised that you found out rather late, given the rate at which he publicized me to other nobles." Dennis began, as he began to mimick Heratck's articulation of words, in an exaggerated way. "That spawn of George is a true crook! A true one I tell you! Do you know what he did, I will tell you.." Dennis broke down mid-way, amused at his own mimicry. "Despite all his efforts, Ironically enough, some nobles still chose to do business with me." He said, as he wiped off the tears from his eyes. "A friend you made, father. Can you not see that he is trying to tarnish the image of your family?" Dennis inquired, as both his voice and face turned grave. "That.. That.. That Is only because you have no regards whatsoever for your elders! Look at you! You even put your one father in seclusion! Is this how Myla raised you?" Dennis smacked his hand furiously on the center table, causing George to flinch, despite his age. "Don't.." He began, his eyes grave. "Don't profane my mother's name with that filthy mouth of yours. Otherwise, I shall kindly inform her to cut if off for me." Dennis said, before a crazed smile came to his face. "Just as I would have done to that friend of yours if he dared to utter a word concerning your house arrest." He added. George pratically gulped. "If you don't have any valid reason as to why you actually summoned me here, I will take my leave." Dennis said, as he stood up. "For the record, you are still under house arrest." He added, as he placed his hand on the door knob, before turning around suddenly. "You better hope that little bird of yours doesn't get caught-I might as well make a soup out of it." He threatened, before leaving. Only after he left, could George exhale peacefully. Since when did his son emanate this bone-chilling aura?

 Cornelia stood before the door, her ears keenly pressed towards the door, making her backside to be all the more prominent. Some maids and butlers did witness her, but due to the fear which she implanted in the household, they didn't dare to say anything. "Oooh... Why aren't they saying anything?" She inquired, as she pressed her ears even harder to the door, her cheek nearly rubbing against the door Frame. "Wait, they aren't saying anything?" Cornelia's eyes widened, as she pondered to herself. Her eyes widened in realisation as heard that overly familiar clicking sound. She bolted out of the way just as the door opened. "Cornelia." Dennis said, as he looked towards his left. He happened to witness a silhouette moving out of the entrance at breakneck speed. The latter inquestion, had stuck herself to the wall, her eyes closed. "What are you doing?" Dennis inquired. Cornelia opened her eyes, as she acknowledged the man that stood in front of her. "Ah, well.. ahem.. you see.." Cornelia stumbled over her words repeatedly, as she tried to explain herself. Dennis gave an exhausted sigh. "Your pay for the week is halved." He simply stated, as he descended down the stairs. "You can't do this to me, Master!" Cornelia cried out In a tearful voice, as she chased after him.