Chapter-2 Discretely

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the Belonia estate, illuminating the dewy grass and filling the air with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Merida, dressed in a practical yet elegant ensemble—a neo-mint-colored shirt tucked neatly into tailored pants—descended the grand staircase with purpose. Her honey-brown hair, braided to her waist, swayed gently with each step. Today’s tasks required not just her sharp mind but also her swift efficiency.

Mr. Thomas awaited her at the bottom of the stairs, his tall frame as imposing as ever, though his expression was soft with the respect he held for Merida.

“Good morning, Miss Merida,” he greeted, his deep voice carrying the gravity of the day ahead. “Kiri is ready and waiting by the carriage.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas,” Merida replied with a nod. “We have much to accomplish today. Please ensure everything is in order for my return.”

“Of course, Miss. Everything will be as you require,” Mr. Thomas assured her.

Merida stepped outside into the crisp morning air, where the green carriage with its gold-plated designs gleamed in the sunlight. The carriage, a symbol of the Burton family’s wealth and status, was as much a part of her life as the estate itself. Standing beside it was Kiri, the 17-year-old maid, her black hair neatly tied back and her maid’s outfit pristine.

“Good morning, Miss Merida,” Kiri greeted her, her voice respectful and tinged with a hint of nervousness.

“Good morning, Kiri,” Merida responded with a kind smile. “We have a full day ahead of us. Today, we’ll be managing stores in town and purchasing supplies for the orphanage.”

Kiri nodded, her expression serious as she absorbed her instructions. “I’ll do my best, Miss.”

With that, they climbed into the carriage, and the driver set the horses into motion. The road to town wound through the vast countryside, the landscape slowly shifting from the manicured gardens of the estate to the more rustic beauty of the open fields and forests. Merida watched the scenery pass by, her mind already focused on the tasks that awaited her in town.

The town itself was a small but lively place, nestled in the heart of the Burton estate’s lands. Cobblestone streets lined with quaint shops and houses gave the town a cozy, welcoming atmosphere. The townspeople, familiar with the Burtons and their long-standing generosity, greeted the carriage with smiles and nods as it passed.

Their first stop was the general store, a modest establishment that had served the town for generations. As they entered, the storekeeper, Mr. Harlowe, greeted them with a warm smile.

“Miss Burton! It’s always a pleasure to see you,” he said, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight.

“Good morning, Mr. Harlowe,” Merida replied, returning his smile. “We’re here to purchase supplies for the orphanage. They’ll need enough to last for the next few months.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll get everything ready for you,” Mr. Harlowe said as he bustled about the store, gathering the necessary items.

Merida and Kiri moved through the store, selecting additional goods and ensuring that nothing was overlooked. Kiri took careful notes, her eyes scanning the shelves with a keen attention to detail, clearly eager to prove herself.

Once their purchases were finalized and arrangements made for delivery to the orphanage, Merida led Kiri to their next destination: the town church. The stone building, with its tall steeple reaching toward the heavens, was a place of both worship and refuge. The church was also home to the orphanage that the Burton family had sponsored for as long as Merida could remember.

As they approached, the sound of children’s laughter reached their ears, bringing a soft smile to Merida’s face. The orphanage was a place of warmth and care, a testament to the community’s collective efforts and the Burton family’s unwavering support.

“Kiri, wait here by the carriage,” Merida instructed as they reached the church. “I need to speak with Father Dinos privately.”

“Yes, Miss,” Kiri replied obediently, standing beside the carriage as Merida entered the church.

The interior of the church was cool and serene, the air filled with the scent of incense and the soft light filtering through stained glass windows. At the altar, Father Dinos stood in quiet contemplation. At twenty-six, the young priest had already earned the respect and admiration of the townspeople, known for his wisdom and gentle demeanor.

“Miss Burton,” Father Dinos greeted her with a warm smile as she approached. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, Father,” Merida replied with a nod. “I hope the orphanage is doing well?”

“Very well, thanks to your family’s continued support,” Father Dinos assured her. “But I sense you’re here for more than just a routine visit.”

Merida offered him a subtle smile, her eyes betraying nothing. “Indeed. There are some matters I’d like to discuss with you privately, if you have a moment.”

Father Dinos nodded, understanding her unspoken request. “Of course. Follow me.”

He led Merida to a small, quiet room at the back of the church, away from the prying eyes and ears of the townspeople. The walls of the room were lined with old, leather-bound books, and a single candle flickered on the wooden table in the center.

Their conversation remained behind closed doors, the words exchanged within that room known only to Merida and Father Dinos. When Merida finally emerged, her expression was calm, though her mind was clearly at work. Whatever had been discussed would remain a mystery for now, buried beneath the surface of everyday life at the estate.

Returning to the carriage, Merida found Kiri waiting patiently. The young maid looked up expectantly as Merida approached.

“Everything is in order, Miss?” Kiri asked, her voice soft.

“Yes, Kiri,” Merida replied with a reassuring smile. “Let’s head back to the estate. There’s still much to do.”

The journey back to Belonia was quiet, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the countryside. As they drew closer to the estate, Merida’s thoughts drifted to her brother, Marcus. While she had been handling the responsibilities of the family, she knew that Marcus had likely spent the day in his usual state of idle relaxation.

Indeed, Marcus had found solace in the greenhouse, a sanctuary of glass and iron filled with exotic plants. The centerpiece of the greenhouse was a serene white lotus pond, its surface adorned with delicate, floating blooms. Marcus lay on a small wooden bench beside the pond, a novel resting on his face, shielding his eyes from the dappled sunlight streaming through the glass above.

His day had been peaceful, a stark contrast to the responsibilities that weighed on Merida’s shoulders. The novel was one of his favorites, its well-worn pages a testament to the many afternoons spent in its company. As he dozed, the world outside the greenhouse seemed far away, a distant concern that could wait until he was ready to face it.

But the tranquility of the greenhouse was quietly interrupted by the soft, almost inaudible sound of footsteps. A pair of boots, black with hints of red lining, approached Marcus’s resting form with deliberate silence. The figure, cloaked in the greenhouse’s dappled shadows, moved with an air of familiarity, as if this was not their first time here.

The boots paused beside Marcus, and a hand reached out, gentle and cautious, to caress his honey-brown curls. The touch was light, affectionate, as if trying not to disturb his sleep. But even in his slumber, Marcus sensed something was amiss. The warmth of the hand against his head, the softness of the caress—it stirred something deep within him.

Marcus awoke with a start, the novel slipping from his face and falling to the ground with a dull thud. His eyes, wide with sudden awareness, darted around, searching for the source of the disturbance.

But there was no one there.

The greenhouse was as it had been before, filled with the quiet hum of nature, the white lotus flowers gently floating on the pond. The only sign that anything had happened at all was the lingering sensation of the touch, the faint warmth still on his scalp.

He sat up quickly, his heart racing as he scanned the room, but the greenhouse revealed nothing. The door stood ajar, letting in a soft breeze, and for a moment, Marcus wondered if he had simply imagined the entire encounter.

But the unease in his chest told him otherwise.

Shaking off the lingering drowsiness, Marcus stood, his thoughts now as restless as the wind outside. Something—someone—had been there, of that he was certain. And as he picked up the fallen novel and clutched it to his chest, he couldn’t help but feel that whatever—or whoever—it was, had come with a purpose.

He glanced once more around the greenhouse, the peaceful scene now tinged with a sense of unease. He wasn’t sure what to make of the encounter, but one thing was clear: the days of idle rest might soon be coming to an end.

With a furrowed brow and a racing heart, Marcus left the greenhouse, the tranquil retreat now holding an air of mystery that refused to be shaken.

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