Chapter 23

It had not yet been a full day since Sebastian's departure, and Virtue already felt his absence deeply.

She woke to an empty bed in the morning, rolling over and extending an arm to wrap him so she might pull herself into his burly frame, only for her arm to grope at thin air, the realization that she was alone hitting her like a slap in the face.

She wandered into the dining room mid-morning to break her fast, for a brief moment expecting to see Sebastian already seated waiting for her, to find the room empty and that pang of loneliness that had struck her earlier return.

She thought to spend a quiet morning in the library to read, but even that seemed unappealing without Sebastian's presence. Lucy suggested a stroll through the lands to take in the lovely weather as Virtue had yet to see the village since moving here. It was a reasonable idea, yet Virtue had hoped to explore the village for the first time at Sebastian's side, when he felt secure enough to stroll the lands unmasked. The notion of going without him filled her with an unreasonable sense of guilt, prompting her to decline that also.

"What then?" Lucy sighed with exasperation, throwing her hands up in despair. "What shall we do? Mope all day?"

"I don't see why not," Virtue replied dully, her voice devoid of its usual lilt.

"The weather is far too lovely for moping," Lucy countered.

"I expect a storm to arrive later," Virtue said, her gaze drifting toward the window.

Lucy frowned. "Have you been outside today? I don't think I have seen a day this clear in months!"

"Oh, is it? Perhaps it is just merely my temperament then," Virtue sighed. "It feels as if it might rain."

"Now, really..." Lucy clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.

"It is funny, is it not?" Virtue mused, more to herself than to Lucy. "If you had told me just a few weeks ago that I'd be pining after the Duke like this, I would have laughed and called you mad."

"I still think you are," Lucy muttered, just loud enough for Virtue to hear.

"Sebastian, the monster," Virtue scoffed, shaking her head. "The beast who lured villagers to his home and devoured them. I suppose you never did uncover that fabled torture chamber, did you?"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Still searching."

Virtue chuckled lightly, a soft, knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, he is nothing like the stories paint him. True, he might play into those fearsome tales now and then—but that is not the man he is." She spoke as if trying to convince Lucy. "He is kind, sweet and caring."

"With a temper to rival Zeus," Lucy mumbled under her breath.

Virtue just smiled at that. "What is life without passion? Certainly not one I would care to live."

In the end, the two women decided on a walk through the gardens. They were almost complete now, as verdant as they were colorful as they were wondrous. Fluffy green grass spread in every direction. Blooming flower beds at every corner. Shrubs that ran like walls and made small mazes to walk through. Elm trees also, stone pathways, statues, fountains, everything that a garden should be.

"It really has come along, hasn't it?" Lucy started the conversation, as Virtue was in her own head as they walked. It was for that reason that Virtue did not respond immediately.

Her mind was elsewhere, on Sebastian. This garden was for him, after all. In a way, it had been this garden which brought them together in the first place. Hours spent here as they instructed the gardeners what to plant and how to plot. Hours spent slowly working at Sebastian's rough edges, smoothing them away, revealing the beauty underneath. When he returned, Virtue decided, they would need a new project. Something inside the castle this time, for it was in desperate need of a new—

"V!" Lucy's sharp call jolted her from her reverie.

"Hmm?" Virtue turned about to find Lucy glaring at her. "Is something the matter?"

"What do you think?"

Virtue grimaced. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I am just..." She sighed wistfully.

"Oh, I know what you are." Lucy arched a brow, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"And, pray, what am I?"

Lucy snorted. "Do I need to say it?"

"I think you better."

A rolling of the eyes followed. "You are in love, Virtue. Although I would think that was rather obvious by now."

Virtue frowned at that comment, leaning back a little as if taken aback by it. In love? Is that what this was? Truly, she had not yet considered it, for love was something that she had read of but never dreamed she might be lucky enough to experience. The concept had been but a fantastical idea reserved for the pages of the novels she devoured—tales of princesses swept away by dashing princes. It was a realm she never envisaged herself reaching.

Now that her maid had voiced the thought aloud, however, and now that Virtue started to think... it made too much sense to simply deny. The emotions that had besieged her throughout the day, the profound yearning for Sebastian's presence though he had departed merely a day prior—could this truly be love? A man she once viewed with fear, now the very one she found herself incomplete without—was this not what the poets described?

"Oh, I don't know about that..." She attempted to dismiss the idea with a wave of her hand, but the unmistakable blush that colored her cheeks, as vivid as the roses they passed, betrayed her inner turmoil.

"Whatever you say," Lucy giggled.

Virtue spent the rest of the day contemplating the notion her maid had sparked. And the more she thought, the more apparent it became. By the time the early evening hues painted the sky, she was irrevocably convinced of her love for Sebastian. Yet, this newfound certainty ushered in a fresh wave of fear in her: what if she loved him but he did not love her in return?

It was fortunate then that a perfect distraction arrived at about this same hour. She was nestled among the tomes of the library, engrossed in one of her cherished volumes, when Lucy appeared at the doorway, carrying a tray.

"Look what I have," Lucy beamed as she came to her side.

"Oh," Virtue responded, setting her book aside and offering a smile in return. "A clairvoyant. I was just thinking that some tea would be perfect! What blend have you brought?"

"I haven't the faintest!" Lucy exclaimed with a playful shrug.

Virtue arched an eyebrow, her gaze settling on the steaming pot. "And how did that come to pass? Did you prepare it with your eyes closed and your nostrils stuffed?"

Lucy laughed. "No, silly. I thought to surprise you. The package that His Grace ordered from London—the exotic teas from China—it arrived just an hour ago."

"What?!" Virtue's interest was immediately piqued, and she sat up a little straighter. "Why did you not mention this to me sooner?"

"I am telling you now," the maid replied, setting the tray down gracefully before Virtue and beginning to pour the tea into a delicate saucer. "It was rather peculiar, though."

"How so?" Virtue reached for the saucer. She gently blew on the surface of the tea to cool it, bringing it to her nose and sniffing cautiously, her expression betraying her intrigue at the unusual aroma.

"Well, the package arrived here the precise day it was labeled to arrive. Which makes little sense due to the great delays it supposedly encountered."

"Curious..." She took a sip of the tea, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Very curious. And it was directly imported from China?"

"Supposedly. Though, again, there are no markings to suggest so." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice, "Do you believe His Grace was swindled to pay extra for some run-of-the-mill tea?"

Another sip, the same acrimonious taste. "I doubt it. Perhaps it was a fresh batch. Sebastian did say he would send a gift upon arriving at London. Besides, it tastes a touch like Hyson. Except… smokey. Gunpowder tea, perhaps? I have read of it but never tasted it myself. It is extremely strong, I must say. Have a sip."

Lucy leaned back. "No thank you, my lady. Need I remind you, this is not a shared hobby, I think I shall stick to the ordinary black tea."

Virtue giggled. She took another sip, a longer one this time, thinking that might help. But alas, it left the same extremely repugnant aftertaste on her tongue and in her throat. She put the saucer down and pushed it away. "No, I don't think I care for it very much. It does not complement my palette at all. But if His Grace asks... we drank it all, all right? I do not wish him to think I was disappointed with his gift."

"How congenial of you," Lucy said dryly.

To that, Virtue laughed... only to wince as a sharp pain suddenly shot through her stomach. "Oh... I don't think I care for it at all."

"What is it?" Lucy's faced clouded with concern

"It's… it's nothing." Another sharp pain, like a dagger dicing her insides. "It is just..." She grimaced, pressing her hands against the spot on her abdomen where the pain persisted. "I think I am having a cramp—oh!" She yelped and doubled over.

"V!" Lucy sprang to her feet, coming by Virtue's side.

"No, no, it's fine—" Virtue shot out a hand to stop her, or would have, if the pain wasn't too great. It felt as though an invisible force had taken hold of her intestines and was squeezing them, twisting them, tearing at them as if it had a vendetta. "It.... hurts... oh..."

"I'll call for a physician!" Lucy announced, making for the door

"No!" Virtue's voice was firm, despite her distress. "It's fine... I'm fine... It must have been the tea, I'm sure it will pass…" Except, she barely managed to get the words out in a single breath. Worse, her body suddenly turned ice cold, while her forehead broke out in sweats. She trembled violently, face sweating, stomach hurting, body rebelling against her. "I am sure it's nothing..." she murmured weakly.

"Don't be foolish!" Lucy retorted, her voice thick with worry as she hovered on the spot, torn between seeking help and staying by her friend's side. "Do not move."

"Thank you for the advice—ow!" Virtue yelped as another spasm of pain seized her.

"I am sending for a physician now!" The maid spun on the spot, reaching for the door.

"Lucy!" Virtue cried out, ignoring the pain the best she could, teeth chattering now from the cold that seemed to envelop her entire being. "Sebastian..."

"He is not here!"

"Send for him," she managed as the room began to spin about her. It was more than nausea, or the edges of an illness—it felt as if her very life force was ebbing away. She reclined back on the couch, the sharp pains subsiding into a chilling numbness, a deceptive calm beginning to envelop her. "Please... I would like to see him..."

"Virtue!" In a panic, Lucy rushed back to her side, falling to her knees and cradling Virtue's head. "Wake up! Please, wake up, V!"

"Good night, Lucy..." she said lazily, eyelids closing, body wilting into a heap. "Tell Sebastian that I... that I..."

And then there was nothing.