Chapter 31 – Maribelle MacBain / Afternoon Tea

Chapter 31

Maribelle MacBain / Afternoon Tea

            The carriage door swings open and I get out first, taking Sir Ashley’s offered hand to help me safely to the ground.  As soon as my feet touch the ground, I hear a loud cry, as if a beast in the jungle is announcing its presence.

            “BERI!!!”

            I quickly turn just in time to see Angus grab Izzy by the collar and bring her to a halt as she had already started her charge toward me.

                 “Izzy, we just had this conversation.  We are in view of the public and you are almost fifteen.  You need to start acting like a proper princess otherwise there will be rumors, well, worse rumors than there already are, at any rate.  Calm down and let Beira approach us instead of charging her like a maniac.”  Angus scolds her while holding her in place.  “People are going to think that you are attacking my fiancé in your exuberant display of affection.  You can’t just glomp people in public.”

            “Well, Beri always appreciates my glomping her because we are the best of friends, right, Beri?” she asks me.

            “Eh,” I scratch my head trying to figure out how to give an honest reply without hurting Izzy’s feelings.

            “See?  She agrees with me,” Izzy states, proudly putting her hands on her hips.

            “The last time you tried to do that Beira was blind and you could have seriously hurt her, Isabella,” he reminds her.

            Izzy’s attention turns back to Angus for the moment; I turn the girl with the long black hair that is standing next to Izzy.  She looks at the exchange between siblings with an expressionless gaze before flicking her eyes back towards me.

            “Cousin Beira,” she states plainly, no emotion in her voice.  She pushes the book she is holding to her left side as if filing it away on an invisible bookshelf and it vanishes as if it were never there.  “It is good to see you well.”

            She offers me a slight curtsey, her expression never changing as Angus and Izzy continue bickering which brings a smile to my face.  Those two never really change, at least according to my limited memories involving Izzy, and I love them for it.

            I return her curtsey and move out of the way as my mother descends from the carriage behind me.

            “Aunt Ilsa,” the black-haired girl states in her deadpan voice while curtseying again, this time a bit deeper. 

            “Ah, little Maribelle,” my mother says, offering a nod of acknowledgement.  “It has been ages since I last saw you.  How is my brother these days?  He rarely responds to my correspondence these days.”

            “You just saw me at Cousin Beira’s ball," she states simply before adding, "Father is well, but he is still mourning even after six years.”  Maribelle says, her face never changing and her tone never wavering, almost as if someone has cut all her emotion off at the source.  “I have tried to encourage him to find someone, let him know that I would be fine with it since I want him to be happy, but he still grieves Mother’s death as if it happened yesterday.”

            My mother nods, her face saddening.

            Behind her, my father is finally climbing out of the carriage now that my mother has moved out of the way.  As soon as the carriage door shuts behind him, all of the guards snap to attention and salute him before turning toward the manor and kneeling in the presence of the two bickering royals.

            “Prince Angus, Princess Isabella,” the Duke bows deeply, “It is good to see Your Royal Highnesses are doing well and are in such high spirits.  Beira has been looking forward to seeing you both again.”

            My father’s words stop the two siblings from continuing to drive barbs at each other.  My mother and I both curtsey deeply with our heads bowed. 

            “You may rise,” I hear Angus say.  “Duke Braemar, you and your family know there is no need for such formalities with us.”

            I look up and see Angus striding towards my father, his hand extended.  The two clasp hands and smile.

            “It is good to see you again, Alastair.” 

            The guards and servants with us all rise after the friendly exchange and proceed to start unpacking the carriages.  Several servants come out from within the estate’s manor to assist, speeding the process up.

            Izzy rushes over to me with her usual enthusiasm and wraps me in a tight hug before stepping back.

            “How are you doing, Beri?  Has your sight fully returned yet?  What is with that weird lock of hair?  Whatever, it looks good on you.  One of your eyes looks different too.  Are you sure you’re not a changeling or something?  What about your memories?  Have you regained anymore?  Angus has been beside himself since father summoned him home.  He mentioned that you had started recovering your memories.  Does that mean you know who attacked you?  How was your journey to the capital?  Did you run into any trouble on the way?  No, you got here on time, so I guess you didn’t, but there were marks on a couple of the carriages…”  She trails off for a second.  “Are you okay?”

            I giggle softly at how the onslaught of questions abruptly ends before answering.

            “Yes, Izzy, I’m okay,” I say, smiling as I consider how to answer the questions about my hair and eye.  Regarding the former, the rumors spread by the servants have given me a potential answer which is as good as any, and the latter I can just feign ignorance of since this is the first time someone has mentioned noticing it.  “And to answer your q-questions, I am well.  Yes, it has.  I don’t know.  It is l-likely a side effect of the attack on me.  I’m glad you think it looks good; I am n-nervous about how Angus will f-f-feel about it.  One of my eyes looks d-different?  Different how? Is it maybe the sunlight shining in them?  Also, I am not a changeling, I promise.”

            “That is just what a changeling would say, you know,” Izzy interjects with a pout.

            “Then you would never know, were I actually one,” I reply trying not to laugh.  “To continue, yes, I have regained some more of my m-memories, but I am still lacking a huge portion of them.  Angus was worried about m-me?”

            “Duh, of course he was, or have you forgotten that my brother loses all logic when it comes to the subject of The Lady Beira Braemar?” She says in a snooty tone before giggling and her response makes me smile even bigger.

            “D-does he?” I try to put on an innocent face which makes Izzy giggle even harder.  Even Maribelle, who has been standing silently and expressionlessly to the side, has the corners of her mouth turn slightly upwards in what I imagine is a huge show of expression for her.  “A-anyway, resuming.  No, I still don’t know who attacked me.  The journey was okay for the most part, b-but we were attacked by Knockers and Redcaps on the third day.  M-mother and I were in our carriage the whole time the attack was going on.  There weren’t any s-serious injuries, thankfully.”

            “I’m glad you are ok, cousin,” Maribelle says in monotone, her voice flat as the great plains we had passed through.  The hint of a smile that I had thought I had seen was now gone from her face.

            Izzy nods in agreement.

            At this point, I realize that the carriages are no longer around, having presumably been led off to be stored at whatever location they store them at here.

            “Would you ladies like some tea?  I told Mary to have an area set up in the gardens in the back, for the three of you,” my mother chimes in as it is clear Father and Angus are heading into the house, no, mansion is really a more fitting term.

            “Yes, M-mother.  I think we would appreciate that,” I answer.

            “That would be wonderful, Duchess.  Thank you!” Izzy says, beaming.

            Maribelle simply nods, her face displaying no emotion, which I am beginning to realize is just the way she is.

            Mother leads us through the mansion and back out into the land behind it.  The yard and garden are nowhere near the size of what we have at Braemar Keep; there isn’t even a hedge maze, but it is still sizable in my opinion which is colored by where I had lived in America and definitely by Korean standards.  With several large trees for shade, one of which has a table and three chairs already waiting beneath it, they are perfectly pleasant grounds with ample room considering they are in the middle of a huge city. There are even several large flower beds and decorative carved hedges at their center.

            “Maribelle,” my mother says abruptly as we are about to sit.

            “Yes, Auntie?” 

            “Give this to your father when you go home, please.”  She presses a small envelope into Maribelle’s hands, then turns to leave. 

            Maribelle pauses for a second, staring at the envelope, then nods and tucks it to the side where it disappears like her book did earlier.

            We sit after mother leaves and soon tea is brought out accompanied by a variety of pastries.  We spend the rest of the afternoon chatting, or rather, Izzy and I chat while Maribelle doesn’t say much other than interjecting the occasional comment between sipping her tea and eating sweetcakes. 

            “Are you going to come back to the academy with the start of the new semester?” Izzy asks suddenly as we are preparing to get up and go into the house.  Maribelle nods as if she is wondering the same thing, though her expression remains as flat as ever.

            “A-Academy?” I ask, my cluelessness shining.  I quickly search my memories, trying to find some clue as to what she is talking about.

            “Saint Astra’s Academy for Young Ladies.”  Maribelle adds in her monotone voice.

            My search comes up empty, so I shake my head. 

            “I-I don’t know.” I admit.

            “We promised that we would graduate together, Beri,” Izzy adds and Maribelle nods slightly in agreement. “Plus, we only have three years left.  You have missed a whole semester because of the attack on you and, while your leave of absence has been approved, if you stay out for another semester, you will have to make up the whole year.  That will push you a year behind the two of us.”

            “N-n-nobody said a-anything about an academy.  I t-thought I just had my t-t-tutors back in Lochavria.”  I eventually manage to say, my stress levels spiking for some reason. 

            What about my life back home?  I was just starting to get the hang of everything there.  What about Rún?  He might think I abandoned him if I suddenly go away again.

            “Well, there is still plenty of time to decide, Beri.  We still have a few weeks left in this semester and then there is the summer break.”  Izzy says, realizing that the subject has caused me a minor panic attack.  “Mari and I both hope you come back though.  Classes just aren’t the same without you.”

            Why did this cause such a large spike in my anxiety?

            I freeze for a moment when it hits me. 

            My life as Michael.  Middle school and high school were hell for me.  The constant performative bullshit I had to go through so that I didn’t get jumped for being too effeminate or called gay.  Those behaviors led to me mostly isolating myself from my peers because I knew I couldn’t tell anyone my secret.  I had learned that at an even younger age when I was molested by the very person I went to for spiritual advice on how to reconcile my feelings of not being like the other boys.  Even remembering all of this now, I can feel my memories trying to change, distort to where I never had to pretend to be a boy because I never was male, but I know that is wrong.  Taken in the context of what I went through, had I been born female, none of it would make sense.  I wouldn’t have become the person I was before becoming Beira.  I focus on the painful truth of who I was as Michael because that influences who I am as Beira, and I like who I am now.  That scared little girl trying to be a little boy because to do otherwise leads to trauma, all of those experiences and memories, allow me to truly appreciate the body I have now.  I feel that if I lose who I am, where I come from, then all of this would be a waste.

            “Cousin?” I hear Maribelle’s monotone voice cut through my thoughts and bring me back to the present.  “Ah, there you are.  Welcome back, cousin.”

            “Welcome back?  What are you on about Mari?  Beri never left, she has been standing right here like a knot on a lo- Oh! I see what you mean,” Izzy’s voice blasts next to me.

            “I’m s-sorry for spacing out,”  I apologize.

            I smile at both of them in an attempt to reassure them that I am fine, and while I think it worked on Izzy, Maribelle keeps glancing at me in what I think is a display of concern from her, though it is hard to tell.