Adelina (?) -- Prologue

[TherapyCat]

Spoiler: show

"Anyways, Lambert, that is my in-depth synopsis as to why, I believe that I'd rather much be like a sheep like you, able to shed my layers and start anew every season," Adelina remarked as she laid on the stomach of the lamb, staring up at the clouds as they shifted within the barovian sky. She bellied out a heavy sigh.

"I've been writing you know." she monolouged to the animal. "Mama says a shouldn't. That I should be focusing on more valuable life skills- but that is just because-- she thinks I am to end up like her. I'd rather soon croke." she whispered into the ear of the farm animal before cackling. Before she arose with a brief sigh , going to do her actual task at hand, plucking the access wool from the lambs coat.

She sighs wistfully. "There has to be more to life don't you think? Beyond stealing your coat, and eating the same soup for dinner every night? There has to be."

"Oh there certainly is, Mademoiselle." an unfamiliar voice boomed behind her in the distance, a man. Adelina gasped! As she rose to stand, she then accidentally kicked Lambert in the process. Lambert whined and ran through through the gate, that the absent-minded Adelina, had neglectfully left upon prior.

"Look what you've done!' she remarked to the stranger with spite, brows knitted as she darted after the farm creature.

"I simply wished to introduce myself!" the man chased after Adelina,  and the lamb, roaring with laughter at the absurdity of it all.

"You've made quite the introduction!" she quipped with bitter sarcasm, as she they both continued to chase the frighted lamp.

"Come now! I have  not even mentioned my name, Mon amour-- you are making this quite difficult!" He huffed, his hands on his knees, as he attempted to catch his breath.

Adelina eventually did catch the lamb, lifting up it within her arms to hold it, struggling some under it's weight. "Iadul-- lambert what have you been eating." she grumbled, adjusting it.
"...Please, Mademoiselle. Let me help you that, I feel quite terrible about the whole ordeal." The man held out his arms, He stood a good deal taller than Adelina. A good deal older, to. Nearing his twentieth year, while she had just entered her thirteenth.

"...If you must." she regarded him, With curious, but a wary look. As she handed the man the sheep. The sheep baaa'd in defiance to being held by the strange man. It was within this moment, that adeline found herself, alone. Half a mile from home, in the woods with a stranger she had never met.

"....Who are you anyways?" Her eyes narrowed some, frowning.

"My name is Louis Artenie, I am a merchant, a tailor, I seek wool and  I heard word that your family might offer it to  me at a discounted price, if I spoke to them in person. But It seems I was walking in the opposite direction and came from the back of your house. I meant not to frighten you mademoiselle."

"....You didn't frighten me." she stated, instantly dismissing that, as she glanced elsewhere, it was clear he still frightened her.

"...I would never dream of wanting to.." his voice softened as he adjusted the sheep with ease within his grasp.

"Might I have your name?"

"....Adelina"

"Adelina. Quite a beautiful name, it does not suit you. This life here."

Her brows knitted. "...I am quite content with my life. With my name, I am not sure what makes you think you have the liberty to believe otherwise."


"I meant not to offend you." Louis frowned some, as he bobbed his head the way they came. Moving to escort them back home. "It is merely a lovely name, for a lovely girl. A name that should be plastered on the bills of plays, the back of paintings, woven into songs of adoration.." he hummed in thought. Sparing a smile downwards to her.

"...You think I am lovely?" Adelina  paused, bewildered as if that was the first time she had heard anything of that nature said to her within her existence.

"Incomparable." He chimed, genuine.

She smiled then, and only then as she moved to follow him, back to her homestead, she was quiet, reflective for a moment before she spoke again.

"...What about on books?"

"Pardon, Mon Amour?" Louis peered downwards, to her in confusion.

"How Would it look on books, my name?" she proceeded, clearing her throat some.

"Adelina Artenie?" He chimed with a confident smirk. "I think it suits it."

"What-- No I didn't mean to imply, I--." Adelina huffed in frustration. Louis just smiled, his first victory.

[TherapyCat]

 

[TherapyCat]

chapter 2

Spoiler: show

Weeks had elapsed since their initial encounter, yet each time Adelina pondered Louis, her heart raced as if attempting to escape her chest, only to descend and echo through the wooden floors of her abode. Every detail lingered in her memory: the way her gaze lingered on his lips, the curiosity about their taste—she imagined them akin to honey, mirroring the sweetness woven into every word he spoke.

This fixation often left her distracted, her endeavors marked by absentmindedness. Even the toil of her chores left unnoticed calluses on her hands, so deeply engrossed was she in her infatuation with a man she scarcely knew.
Seated by the window, watching the sun set over the horizon, Adelina overheard her elder sisters' chatter behind her, their words akin to insidious insects.

"Did you notice how she looked at him?" Draguta remarked with disdain.

"A scandalous affair, indeed. Father seemed on the brink of fury," Celestina added, the two girls, barely older than Adelina, sharing a chuckle. Unfazed, Adelina's heart was consumed by love, though she barely comprehended its essence.

Turning to face her sisters, her hair cascading like a velvet curtain, Adelina retorted, "If you must discuss me, dear sisters, either speak in hushed tones to spare me or raise your voices to include me in the discourse."

"As if you have anything substantial to contribute, little lamb," Draguta taunted. "Little lamb," a moniker coined by their mother for Adelina, initially seemingly affectionate but laden with condescension. It signified her perceived need for control, obedience, and conformity beyond her station as a daughter.She would use that phrase when Adelina was being difficult, unruly, or not what she had envisioned for a daughter entirely. To insist that she was a little lamb, would mean that she needed to have her legs gnawed at, to be lead, to be controlled. It was a reminder that a girl of her age and station, should be more obedient, more subservient.

"Do not address me thus," Adelina warned her sister.

"And what will you do? Scribble about us in your diary?" Celestina joined in the mockery.

Adelina was at a loss for words, a rare occurance. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes in frustation as she started stuttering. She always felt too much, all at once. After being poked and proded, she bleed in clear tears that marked her face and fell down unto her brown frock for all to see her pain. They had wounded her.

In that moment, their shared room's door slid open, revealing their father, a formidable figure with scant hair atop his balding head, holding a box fastened with a lilac satin ribbon.
"This is for you, Addie," he gruffly declared. "Don't misconstrue this. Nearly tossed it away, but no sense in squandering good attire."


Adelina rushed to her father, momentarily forgetting her emotional wounds, expressing gratitude with an embrace before eagerly unwrapping the box to reveal a lilac hat adorned with a white goose feather. As she placed it upon her head, a newfound vibrancy filled her life, eliciting envy in her sisters' eyes, a sensation almost palpable. The worry etched on her father's face, mirrored in her reflection, overwhelmed her.
To her delight, nestled within the box was a note from her beloved.

“It is only the start, Mon amour. Love Louis.”

Love Louis. Love Louis. Love Louis.  She read that line over and over and over again. She was a woman who was loved. Her sisters could'nt have that.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 3

Spoiler: show

Thus, she dared to don the hat. Everywhere she went, it perched atop her head, a silent proclamation of her defiance. The judgment in her father's eyes, the sneers of her sisters, even the perplexed bleats of the farm goats - none could sway her. Because, when that hat sat upon her brow, she was reborn. The timid farm girl was no more. In her place stood a charismatic social butterfly, a figure of intrigue, a beacon of sensuality. A woman in full bloom. What a heady sensation it was, to taste such potent femininity, before truly comprehending the weight it bore.


Her most cherished place to don her hat was in the company of the unassuming scarecrow, a silent sentinel amidst the turnip fields of the neighboring farm. The scarecrow, lacking an official name—a concept that would be rather absurd—had been christened by Adelina herself. She called him Baron de Lilas. Lilas, a word that signified 'Lilac' in the somewhat foreign language of Mordentish, beyond the usual pleasantries and affectionate monikers, was the sole word she knew. The role of a baron was beyond her comprehension, as were the implications of his status and authority, yet the title appealed to her. A figure of authority, imbued with color. Yet, in reality, Baron de Lilas was devoid of any color. Constructed from a turnip sack and bestowed with mismatched button eyes of varying sizes, he was a colorless entity. Nevertheless, he served as an apt partner for her dress rehearsals, as good as any.


She had no inkling of dementileuse society, other than the disdain she’d heard from her fellow Barovians. Yet, the prospect of a world filled with light, art, and gastronomy was enough to spark her imagination. Where facts were scarce, she'd weave intricate tales to fill the void. The enigmatic rise of Baron de Lilac to wealth was a mystery she enjoyed playing with, greeting him daily with a playful,

"How fares your enterprise, dear Baron? I trust all is well?" Her smile was impish, her curtsy a touch awkward as she tipped her hat.
She yearned for a partner who'd lavish her with love and attention. So, when he quietly offered her a second imaginary  baguette, she'd flutter her lashes and feign demure coyness, "Oh, Baron de Lilas, I couldn't possibly!" her makeshift fan, a dried wheat stalk, fluttering in her hand.

And when the lambs proved troublesome, she'd eagerly share the day's gossip with her make-believe lover, her voice hushed, her grin wide and mischievous. "She's a woman of questionable morals, truly," she'd whisper, delighting in their shared secret.

She reveled, heart and soul, in this manufactured existence she had spun with her straw man. This was her refuge, an idyllic dreamworld set apart from the grim, relentless grind of reality. Yet, her blissful reverie was frequently punctured by an all-too-real intrusion – the neighbouring boy, Cosmin.

Cosmin was her age. Yet his robust stature, a stark contrast to her delicate frame, belied his years. At thirteen, he towered at almost six feet, his face adorned with the rough beginnings of a beard. His size, however, was inversely proportional to his intellectual prowess. His attempts at conversation were tragically inept, and Adelina found his company more of a chore than a pleasure. Yet, his heart was pure, and he was besotted with her, a fact that did not escape their parents' notice. They had, on numerous occasions, tried to orchestrate a match between Adelina and Cosmin, but Adelina was always able to wriggle out of the awkward arrangement. Her mother would chide her, reminding her that she could do much worse. Adelina knew this to be true. Yet Cosmin, with his down-to-earth manner and simple, earnest devotion, did not align with her romantic ideals. He was not a prince swathed in lilac, bedecked with ribbons and feathers, whispering sweet nothings to her. He was simply there, like a loyal, muddy dog, gazing at her with wide-eyed adoration.

“...Uh.. ’ey Addie,” Cosmin broke the silence, nervously shifting the gardening hoe in his grip as he watched Adelina pirouetting around the scarecrow. Her dance came to an abrupt halt as she registered his presence. She acknowledged him with a curt nod before averting her gaze, the intrusion shattering her dreamlike trance.

“...Hey, Min.” she continued nodding.

“...Watcha doin?” He gestured between the pair, his expression of confsuion genuine.

"...A cultist mating ritual," she voiced, her tone as flat as a tranquil lake. The disdain she felt when Cosmin inquired such inane questions was a bitter pill to swallow. She was entrenched in a dream, was it not evident?

“...That’s not funny, Adelina.” He frowned, a glance over his shoulder.

"I was not jesting," she retorted, her voice steeped in a bitterness that hung heavy in the air.

“..Okay. Well. That’s a little freaky.” He continued to glance around some, so did Adelina.

"Never will I seek your approval for the passions that ignite my soul, Cosmin," she declared, her words echoing like a bold anthem in the silent room.

“...Okay.”

“Okay.” a silence hung in the air for a long moment, before cosmin attempted again.

“...I think you look right pretty in that hat.” He smiled softly.

“...Thank you.” she glanced around sheepishly. He wasn’t allowed to say that. Why did he say that?

Neither of them, it seemed, had a clue as to the appropriate course of action in the wake of this unexpected turn of events, leaving them stranded in a sea of awkwardness. Cosmin, his features normally as unreadable as a blank canvas, simply dipped his head in a manner that could only be described as characteristically simple-minded before aiming a hearty slap towards the slope of her shoulder. Adelina blinked.

"That will do it." he finally broke the silence, his voice as casual as if they were discussing the weather, before lumbering off, his gait reminiscent of a bear roused prematurely from hibernation.

Adelina's expression twisted into a mask of bafflement. What on earth could he possibly have meant by that?

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 4

Spoiler: show

The exchange of letters between the ill-fated lovers was a clandestine dance. Each day, Adelina would sprint to the edge of the farmlands, skirting dangerously close to colliding with the courier boy, to seize her treasured missives. Her bare feet would drum against the earth in wild, unadulterated joy as she clutched each letter to her chest. Each one, meticulously penned, on lilac paper, carrying the heady aroma of an earthy cigar - a scent that would become as familiar as her own heartbeat.

The letters, however, never dared cross the threshold of the household. They remained hidden, invisible to the inquisitive gaze of her kin, especially her father. Adelina knew that confessing her enduring affection for the enigmatic man would invoke her father's fury. So, the letters were her clandestine indulgence, a secret she nurtured, perhaps one they both shared. With a heart brimming with anticipation, she would retreat to the sanctuary of the neighbouring woods. There, amidst the towering trees, she would relive their singular meeting, as though it were a potent spell capable of conjuring her desired bliss. She possessed a metal box where she would carefully ensconce the letters, burying them at the foot of an ancient oak.
In all, there were six letters, excluding the succinct note accompanying the hat.

January 13th 772,
Domn Artenie,
In the depths of my gratitude, I find the words to convey the joy your hat has given me. Such a thing of beauty, it is, and far finer than anything I’ve ever possessed. Yet, I wonder, does your kindness intend to spoil me, to create an insatiable crave for the finer things in life? A pitfall, perhaps, but there are certainly worse destinies.
Often, my thoughts wander to you, like a solitary rose blossoming defiantly amidst a field of relentless weeds. Despite the circumstance of my birth, I know I am a stranger in this place. Dreams of silk gowns and illuminated streets beckon me. I've heard whispers of the starlight in Dementileu, is it truly so magnificent? Can it extinguish the tendrils of fear that creep in the darkness?
Stars, those distant celestial beauties, are only visible to me through my modest window, their brilliance a cruel reminder of the distance that separates us. To be as privileged as you, to be so close to them, what a marvelous existence that must be.
Maybe one day, we too, will be amid those celestial bodies.
Forever in my  thoughts,
Adelina.

January 28th, 772
My dear Mademoiselle Barbescu,
Under the cloak of nightfall, your letter finds me. Its words, a soothing balm to my restless soul. Your fondness for the hat fills me with a peculiar warmth. It's a mere trinket, a whisper of the opulence that awaits us.
Our dreams, vast as the star-strewn heavens, will take form in reality. As your husband, I pledge nothing less than a life adorned with the grandeur you deserve.
You speak of the stars, those distant celestial bodies. If they bewitch you, my love, they will be within your grasp. The city lights, too, if they should call to you. And gowns, a myriad of hues, each reflecting your iridescence. You outshine the brightest star - an undeniable truth that you should hold close.
The void between us gnaws at me, a relentless torment. I yearn to be at your side and shall hasten to you soon.
In the shadow of our love,
Louis.

_____

Febuary 4th, 772
Dear Louis,
Imagine a closet filled with gowns, each of them a kaleidoscope of different hues. It's an amusing thought, isn't it? A stark contrast to my humble array of a single dress and working attire. In the world of literature, women wear delicate gloves as a symbol of elegance. I yearn to embody such grace and poise. Can such a transformation be achievable?
My desire for you is profound, my longing deep-rooted. My only aspiration is to be your wife, to belong to you and embrace a role I believe I am well-suited for. Rescue me from the monotonous days that seem to stretch into infinity. Your smile has ignited a flame within me, making everything else appear dull.
Yours, in the deepest chambers of my heart,
Addie.

February 23rd, 772
Dearest,
You possess a singular gift, to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. I have no doubt that you will excel as a wife, for your heart is a wellspring of kindness. Our shared life will be nothing short of enchanting, this I swear to you. I shall ceaselessly endeavor to provide you with a life worthy of your grace.
Once the tangled web of my business dealings is unraveled, I will hasten to your side, a knight to his damsel, my pledge to you. Might I suggest you fill the ensuing void by penning your vows? I am well aware of your contemplative nature, and I am certain it will demand a considerable portion of time to distill your thoughts into the perfection I have come to cherish in your abundant intellect.
My dreams are a barren wasteland, devoid of your comforting presence.
The hour of our reunion approaches, my soon-to-be bride,
Louis.

March 8th, 772
Lou,
A hollow ache pervades my being, an insatiable longing for your return. The sacred words, usually reserved for the pious, escape my lips in a desperate plea for your presence. The drudgery of an unwed existence is unbearable; I yearn to be enveloped in the sanctity of our union, a desire as natural to me as breathing.
Does the port city, with its bustling docks and towering masts, host grand matrimonial ceremonies unmarred by the count's shadow? Will our vows be exchanged amidst a spectacle of grandeur and splendor? Our parent's disappointment is inevitable, yet I cling to the hope of their eventual forgiveness. Perhaps they might even grace our nuptials with their presence?
And our awaiting home, does it echo the beauty of our love, untouched by the stains of the world? It must be so, for you would provide nothing less. Our tale, a beautiful interweaving of love and rebellion, finds itself nestled comfortably within the pages of a storybook, don't you agree?
Adelina Artenie... such a symphony of syllables. It's a name destined for the lips of poets, the covers of novels, and even in the throes of exasperation, it retains its lyrical charm. Wouldn't you agree?
Of course, you would. But these thoughts, these dreams, they consume me.
And so do you.
Yours in anticipation,
Addie.

March 27th, 772
Addie,
Indeed, you will concur, won't you? Was it not I who first seeded this emotion in the fertile soil of your imagination? I, the pioneer in this arduous journey of love, dreamt of a world that will never bring me shame, my ethereal bride of Barovia. Our time has descended upon us, my love. On the fifth twilight of this cycle, as the  clock tolls twelve, I shall come to claim you. Be ready, our departure must be as swift as a raven's  flight. Await me by that solitary window, the one where you perch and gaze longingly at the celestial bodies. Soon, we shall embark on a chase, racing after the stars.
Yours in every moment,
Lou.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 5

Spoiler: show

Eight days remained until her long-awaited reunion with Louis would materialize. Each evening, she would linger by the window, yearning for his arrival, nurturing a hopeful anticipation that he might appear earlier. Yet, night after night, he did not. Beneath the shared bed she occupied with her sister, a modestly packed bag lay tucked away. Its contents were simple: a leather-bound journal, two almond cookies crafted by her mother, and a wooden sheep figurine lovingly carved by her father years before. Adeline's nightly vigil by the window, gazing at the stars, was a familiar sight to her sisters. Though they silently acknowledged her unique ritual, they would soon retire to their beds, preparing for the dawn that awaited them.

Her gaze was abruptly interrupted as she noticed a distant figure. The esteemed Baron de Lilac was nearly glistening in the distance. Glancing at her slumbering sisters, exhausted from tending the sheep all day, she felt a pang of guilt. Despite the disapproval shadowing her recent actions, she defied the norm by opening the window and slipping out, making her way swiftly to the neighboring fields. The scene that awaited her left her bewildered.

"Cosmin?" Her expression contorted slightly upon spotting the neighbor boy dancing with the scarecrow. Startled, he abruptly ceased his movements, lowering his arms while coughing.

“...I wasn’t doing nothin’.” He nearly barked at her, taking a step away from the scarecrow.

"...Yes, you decidedly were," Adelina chimed in her typical know-it-all fashion. "It's dark. You shouldn't be out here."

“...I know.” He stuttered at her defensively. “..Neither should you!” He wagged a finger at her, a vicious comeback, truly.

"...While that seems evident, I had a suspicion that someone was tampering with Baron de Lilac," she gestured towards the scarecrow.

“...He’s a scarecrow, you can’t  tamper with a scarecrow addie.” He huffed.

"..Then what were you doing?" She scrutinized him with a narrowed gaze.

“....Dancin.” He spat on the ground, as if that would make the combination more masculine.

“..Dancing?” she inquired quietly.

“Yeah. Dancing. Like the fops do or whatever.” He shrugged helpless.

"Cosmin, why are you concerned with the actions of superficial individuals?" she inquired, her expression turning thoughtful as she began to discern underlying connections.

“....I read the letters.” he started. “Your courier. You never noticed, that’s my brother. Never asked either. He lets me read them before.. he gives them to you.”
"...That appears quite unprofessional," she expressed with disdain before lowering her voice. "Why are you interested in reading them, Cosmin?"

“...I’ve known you since we were Kids, Addie.” He pouted some. “Pa, said you were supposed to be my wife, that he talked to your family, and that you were promised to me....It’s not right you’re trying to deny me of that. With a foreigner no less.”

"You speak as if I am mere cattle in your possession!" she raised her voice slightly, with a hint of shrillness.

“You were! I mean-- You are supposed to be my wife Adelina.” He frowned as his words failed him. “And I want to make you happy I do-- If you want me to dance, I can dance. If you want me to write, I can write to you-”

"We are a house apart, Cosmin; that is a rather silly notion," she remarked, waving a dismissive hand.

“Point is! What do you see in him that I can’t be? You really want to throw your life away, have your family disown you for what-- a grown man with a mustache?

"It's a very lovely mustache!" she exclaimed to him with enthusiasm.

"I will grow one," he declared firmly as he advanced towards her. She remained motionless until he was directly in front of her, with his lips mere inches away.
“Don’t go.” he pleaded, in a softer tone that betrayed his nature. “Not because you belong to me. But because I think you’ll regret leaving everything you know.”

She sighed quietly, dipping her head some. "...I don’t believe I am familiar with this place. It certainly does not seem to recognize me."

“I’d like to.” he interjected quietly. “Know you.”

She shook her head slightly, distancing herself a step. "I apologize, Cosmin. I am already committed to someone who desires to court me," she expressed with a hint of regret. "If you are in search of a life partner, I can introduce you to my two unmarried sisters," she suggested, attempting to shift the focus away from herself.

“yeah, I know.” he said, not enthused. “The tall one and the mean one.” he huffed.

"She's truly above average, and one could describe Draguta as spirited," she offered encouragingly.

“...I hope he makes you real happy, adelina.” he added, randomly. “All the hats and dresses and promises. I hope they are real.”

"They are indeed real," she quietly asserted before pausing to filter her words. "Thank you, Cosmin. I wish you success in finding a life partner, regardless of their height, demeanor, or any other qualities," she reflected softly.

“Maybe both?” he half grinned.

“Do not limit yourself.” She grinned back, hugging the man softly. He hugged her back, respectful before they departed.

“...This didn’t happen?” he nodded to her coyly.

“This didn’t happen.” she agreed, and then the pair darted off in separate directions back to their houses.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 6

Spoiler: show

Adelina sat at the kitchen table the next morning, her demeanor suggesting a sense of impending doom. Seated across from her were her parents, her father appearing crestfallen as he leaned dejectedly on the table, while her mother stood behind him, arms crossed in a stance of displeasure. Nearby, her sisters lingered, feigning disinterest but clearly absorbed in the unfolding scene.
A letter lay conspicuously on the table.

“You want to explain this?” Adelina's mother remarked in a straightforward manner, gesturing towards the aforementioned letter.

"It's nothing, Mama," she replied, shaking her head slightly as her eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t lie Adelina.” her father spoke out, exasperated but stern.

“Iadul that’s all the girl knows how to do.” Her mother expressed discontent, muttering while shaking her head.

“Domn Petrescu is livid with you, with us. Our entire family, you were promised to his second son, adelina, we made commitment, didn’t we teach you that your word, means something?” her father spoke with his words tinged with disappointment.

"...You did. Perhaps more so than you realize. I wish for my words to hold profound significance," she began softly, deeply affected by the poignant gaze of her father.
“What in the hells are you going on about now?” her mother wiped at her face, tiredly.

“She’s... speaking of her writings...It is all she speaks about.” her father sighed.

"He mentioned my potential, Papa," she exclaimed, opening the letter eagerly, intending to present it to her father. "Look, can't you see? He believes I could make a significant impact within the port city. Please, Papa, this is my chance. If I marry Cosmin, I fear I will amount to nothing, I will be a..."

“Like us. Adelina. You will be simple, and barovian, like us.” her mother interjected. Hurt.

Silence filled the room for several moments, as Adelina stuttered and started crying silently. Her words failed her. This was a new revelation.

"Mother, that's not what I intended to convey," she began, hesitating as her father interjected, raising his hand to signal her to pause.

“We do this out of love adelina. So this man does not feed you delusion and leave you destitute and alone. We do this to protect you. You will marry Cosmin.” He said, definite.
“Papa please, Please do not make me do this.” She lamented while standing up, addressing the man who had never denied her and had never imposed discipline.

"My answer is final," he asserted firmly, his tone directed downwards towards her. Immediately after, a sense of guilt washed over him. He did not wish to portray himself as an angry individual, but the thought of losing her was unbearable. She held immense value in his life..

“Tomorrow, before dusk. You will go Adelina. Quickly, and Quietly.” her mother interjected calmly, already plotting her future as if it she was discussing what crops would be planted next year. So calculated. So casual.

Her parents exchanged a silent glance before departing the home to attend to their daily tasks. Adelina remained seated, fixated on the letter, almost reverently, as if seeking salvation from it like a misguided idol.


It was a rare undertaking, seemingly devoid of purpose. The next day, Adelina would find herself in the forest, the very place she had stood with Louis a mere few months earlier, steadfastly avoiding meeting Cosmin's gaze. Clad in her customary peasant attire, she now adorned a modest veil of inexpensive yarn that veiled her forehead while leaving her eyes exposed.

“I didn’t want it to happen this way addie.” he frowned, muttering.

“Then why did you tell them.” her words were acidic, wavering.

“...I don’t want something bad to happen to you.” His frown deepened, as her smiles and jests had been replaced with disdain.

“it already has.” She lifted her eyes up to him.  Her words so vile, so pointed when crafted to sting.

Cosmin swallowed,  the boy rubbed his jaw briefly. He glanced at his parents, witnessing pride and satisfaction in their expressions for the first time. His gaze shifted to Adelina's parents; her mother's cold stare contrasting with her father's visage of remorse. Lowering his eyes to the officiant, a local follower of the sun cult, he then returned his gaze to his bride. It was evident that his bride harbored no affection towards him.

“Do you take this woman to be your bride?” the man begins, staring between the two children expectantly.
Silence hung in the air, Cosmin swallowed again before speaking, a mutter to adelina. “I’m sorry.” He then turned to the audience of only their parents, speaking in a louder volume.

“No.” he drew his hands from hers then, rapidly. “I cannot marry a vile, witch.”

 He said with a sudden acidity, which while was a ruse, seemed genuine at the time.
Gasps rippled through the crowd, their faces contorted in horror, as Adelina experienced a fleeting moment of shock. Despite hearing the worst possible words, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Swiftly scanning her surroundings, she began to devise her escape plan.

"Run," Cosmin murmured encouragingly to her. Adelina swiftly obeyed, dashing for her life, amidst her parents' frantic cries, which included her name alongside unfounded accusations. Meanwhile, Cosmin feigned horror at the behavior of the woman he held dear.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 7

Spoiler: show

She ran swiftly, passing by the eastern farmlands, her veil billowing dramatically in the wind, resembling a bird struggling to soar. Her shoes, worn with the soles revealing her bare and blistered feet, carried her onward. Running had become her forte. Armed with only vague directions, she followed the road, trusting it to lead her midway. As dusk approached, the moon ascended, accompanied by the flight of bats.
A mix of fear, anticipation, and exhilaration coursed through her as she continued her mad dash. However, her frenzied flight came to an abrupt halt as she encountered an obstacle: bandits.
“HOLD RIGHT THERE!” a male voice boomed from the shadows, in a flicker of a moment, adelina found herself surrounded, her hands held upwards, as she shook in fear, her whole body reverberating, her lip trembling.

“It’s just a peasant, she doesn’t have anything.” one of the voices echoed, in disdain.

“Everyone has something.” The male voice spoke again, a soft snort.

“I-I I don’t have anything.” she persisted. It was a half truth. Adelina was never quite skilled at telling the truth.

“Search Her.” the male voice boomed again, as a group of individuals came out of the shadows, clawing into her pockets, and everything else. One would firmly snatch the veil from her head, the other snagged the copper ring off her finger. Adelina, merely wept, shuddering through the whole ordeal.

“That’s it?” The voice groaned again. “No fang, at least?”

“She smells like livestock, sir. She’s a peasant. That’s it.” The female voice seemed mildly irritated.

“Fine.” he raised a hand from the shadows, some hand signal, Adelina’s eyes narrowed, trying to process what that meant, before a sharp blow of a blunt end of a sword found the back of her head, with a thud she crashed to the ground, unconscious.

When her eyes opened again, it was morning. From some unseen miracle, she survived throughout the night.
Or perhaps it wasn’t really a miracle at all.

“You just could’nt wait to see me, could you Mon amour?” a familiar voice boomed. She turned her head to the side, as louis stood, covered in the blood of the bandits, there corpses strewn around the ravine like some macabre display.

And she probably should’ve been horrified.
But all Adelina did was smile.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 8

Spoiler: show

Thus, the duo ambled, their fingers interlaced, their shared warmth gleaming in their frequently exchanged smiles, as they ventured towards the mist-shrouded hamlet.
When Louis' hand would relinquish hers to grasp his sword, ready to vanquish some lurking menace, the Barovian maiden would react predictably, emitting a piercing cry before seeking refuge behind a stone. After the beast's demise, Louis would saunter over and merely utter,

"Mon amour I shall teach you to shed your frailty," his smile, tender yet patronizing, as if his words bore no insult.

To Adelina, however, it was an affront. Frail. Naive. Frightened. Adjectives her Barovian kin were all too familiar with. Adelina was no weakling; she had once carried a full-grown sheep unaided, a feat she deemed remarkable. She was not simple-minded; she had devoured every tome in Houlgraves' library by her thirteenth birthday and could haggle for milk better than anyone she knew. Fearful, perhaps she was, but she felt braver crouched behind that rock than feigning normality amongst her kin.
Still, she would offer no rebuttal, merely nodding demurely and accepting his hand again.
The misty enclave was a haven for the corrupt and the profane, she mused, as her gaze swept across the witches conjuring luminescent orbs, scantily clad women, and Caliban engaging in raucous banter, their harsh tongues spewing unfamiliar dialects. She found herself instinctively shrinking into Louis's shadow.
"Lou!" A voice echoed from the cobblestone pathway. A woman, her armor donned haphazardly, sauntered into view. Pulling off her helm, her ebony hair cascaded down, nestling just behind her pointed ears. An elf.

"Ah, Shelara. A pleasure," Louis greeted, his gaze lingering.

Shelara's laughter was musical, Adelina noted. She would endeavor to mimic it.

"You pretend as if we don't cross paths daily, Monsieur," she teased, mimicking Louis' accent.
Adelina's brow furrowed.

Louis coughed uncomfortably. "Er, yes. Well."

Turning sharply, Adelina addressed him with the confidence of a precocious adolescent.

"Don't...don't stare at him!" she whimpered.

The pair exchanged glances before erupting into laughter – not melodically, but with an undercurrent of mockery.
"She's quite the charmer, isn't she?" Shelara cooed, observing Adelina as one might a wounded hare. She then proceeded to tap Adelina's nose. "Fear not, dear. I'm not really Lou's type," she winked at Louis.

Louis gulped audibly.

Adelina remained silent, her gaze darting between the two with disdain.

"Well then, pardon us, Shelara... We're expected elsewhere," Louis finally broke the silence.

Once more, he took Adelina's hand, and she fell back into her habitual quietude.

Despite her palpable fear.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 9

Spoiler: show

“What did that woman mean?” Adelina inquired, pouting in the caravan with one leg draped over the other, her arms crossed defiantly over her torso.

“She meant nothing, mon ami. You think too much,” Louis replied with a deep sigh as he settled beside her, drawing her into his lap and affectionately running his fingers through the waves of her hair. “You are so beautiful,” he added, attempting to distract her.

“Am I beautiful enough?” she asked softly, her voice almost drowned out by the commotion of the caravan. She swallowed nervously before continuing, “To keep your attention?”
“You are speaking nonsense,” he huffed, gently cupping her cheek to turn her face toward him. She met his gaze, the pout still present.

“Am I? You completely avoided my question.”

“Because such inquiries are a waste of time. I have waited months to have you all to myself; must we spend that time arguing?”

“It wouldn’t be an argument if you would simply answer my question.”

“Adelina, enough!” he barked down at her. The desire in his eyes quickly morphed into resentment and anger as she pushed him off her lap. Adelina tumbled to the caravan floor, her expression a mixture of shock and betrayal, her elbows scraping against the interior surface. Louis's harsh tone continued to pierce the air.

“Must you question everything? I was under the impression that the women of your country were meant to be docile, subservient, agreeable!” he raged, lacing his words with curses in a language Adelina had yet to fully grasp.

Tears began to well in her eyes. Despite the harsh lessons her mothers and sisters had instilled in her, she had never felt as low as she did in that moment—so close to the ground, so close to nothingness. She tried to recall everything her mother had taught her in childhood about obedience, about how she had complied with her husband even when he was in the wrong. Not that her father had ever behaved in such a manner, but perhaps the underlying principle was the same.
Perhaps she simply felt insignificant. Adelina reveled in conversation, often losing herself in a torrent of words about the subjects that captivated her. This confluence of intellect and passion usually flowed effortlessly, yet in this moment, she struggled to articulate her thoughts. Instead, she swallowed nervously and took a seat across from Louis, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Louis, aware of the widening gap between them—both figuratively and literally—paused his monologue, recognizing that his words were falling on deaf ears.
“What are you doing over there, Mon ami?” His voice was soft, effortlessly drawing her in once more.

“...You detest me,” she replied weakly.

“How could I ever detest you? You are to be my wife, my heart, my soul, my eternal companion.”

“...You threw me.”

“I did no such thing; you are clumsy and simply fell,” he responded with ease, rewriting the narrative as if it were truth, transforming fiction into fact with remarkable fluidity.

“...That is not—”

“You fell,” he asserted somewhat sternly, locking his gaze onto hers.

Silence enveloped the caravan once more, lingering for several moments. Adelina frowned in disdain at the abhorrent lie.

“...You’ll need to work on your coordination for the new present I got you.”

She paused, perplexed. “Whatever could that mean?”

“Well, it would require you to stop being so cross for me to explain.” He extended his hand towards her, a simple gesture accompanied by a smile that could persuade anyone; in this instance, it succeeded in winning over Adelina. She rose slowly, gliding over to take his hand, her expression muted.

“Can’t I get a smile? What I am about to give you is rather expensive, mon ami.”

Adelina swallowed nervously before managing a smile. It was entirely insincere, yet she would improve with time; at that moment, her attempt was unmistakably flawed.

“...We’ll work on it,” Louis declared, kneeling gracefully to lift Adelina’s foot. He then produced a box adorned with a lilac bow, unraveling it to reveal her first heel. It was silver, simple, and elegant.

“..What sort of shoe is that?” adelina’s nose wrinkled. She clearly did not like the gift at all as she stared at the female torture device. Louis laughed, outfitting her with the matching shoe on her other foot.

“It is the sort of shoe that will help you blend in.” He said snarkily, before rising to stand beside her, offering his arm as the caravan rattled. “If you can walk in a moving caravan, you can walk on the cobblestones.”

Adelina's legs wobbled beneath her, and despite her graceful demeanor, she found herself out of her element as a farmhand. Frustration welled within her as she nearly stumbled with each step. “I feel like a newborn calf!” she exclaimed.

“You look beautiful, Mon ami,” Louis reassured her just before she lost her balance. In a desperate attempt to steady herself, she grasped at him, inadvertently causing both of them to tumble onto the floor of the caravan. They landed in a tangled heap, laughter echoing throughout the confined space.

Then, a moment of stillness enveloped them. Louis turned to her, his gaze filled with an unmistakable adoration.

Adelina met his gaze, and despite everything, she held his stare.


"There it is," Louis murmured softly, his voice rich and velvety. "There’s my Adelina." His words, now melodic and warm, effectively dispelled the chill that had previously surrounded him.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 10

Spoiler: show

As Adelina disembarked from the caravan and stepped foot in Dementileu, she was instantly enveloped in its unique aura. Its streets, alive with idle chatter and jovial laughter, echoed with the tunes of street musicians. This was a stark contrast to Barovia, a welcome change. Here, there were no children singing eerie tales of grotesque monsters, no guards weary from their shifts to the point of collapse. The working class seemed to have vanished, replaced by svelte, fair-skinned women with towering coiffures, heavily painted eyelashes, and rosier cheeks than the morning sky; a sight so unusual to Adelina, she assumed sunburn.

The elements here were gentler, it was spring. The city's flowers bloomed brilliantly, seemingly bending towards Adelina as though acknowledging her arrival. This sight left the farmhand awestruck. She had always known such beauty existed, contradicting her mother's grim tales. She had always believed in the existence of enlightenment, and now, it seemed, she was worthy of it.

However, in this tale, Adelina was still naive, a mere child of thirteen, soon to turn fourteen on the 5th of September, a Virgo. She took pride in this fact, for her birthday was a day of joy. Every year, her father would take her to town, and she would choose a book from Houlgraves. It was the highlight of her year. But this year, she knew, would be different. If she had not been so entranced by the city's charm, this realization might have shattered her.
The scornful stares of the city's elite, their faces contorted with malice, could have tainted her experience. But in that moment, Adelina saw only the good. The towering, light-kissed buildings, the vibrant flowers, the grandeur of the opera house, the library teeming with books from floor to ceiling – all under the guidance of Louis, the man she always saw the best in, even when she knew better.

Guiding her through the thronging public, her eyes sparked like an iridescent gemstone, flickering between curiosity, awe, and a dash of trepidation, as the conjurer revealed a badger from the depths of a seemingly empty hat. Was this the work of Vraja? Could it be anything but? Yet, did she even care if it was Vraja? That was a question she hadn't quite answered.

The cup game, however, ignited a fire in her. She was sure the ball had been nestled under the second cup. Had her usually reliable eyes betrayed her so egregiously? Louis's laughter echoed round her, his nonchalance at the loss of twenty coins baffling. Was this the life of the wealthy? She was in uncharted territory.
Why, she mused, do their guardians dress in such fanciful garb? The boots, the feathered hats, they offered no real protection. A mere facade, she concluded. The flintlocks, however, those were a different story. They were the real threat to the lurking werewolves. At least, she thought with a bitter smile, they'd make a beautiful spectacle on the battlefield. Thoughts forbidden by her mother's code danced in her mind, a tantalizing waltz of newfound liberty. But her mother was absent, a fact yet to prick her conscience with remorse.

Freedom, once tasted, was intoxicating.
They continued their journey, the world around them seeming to succumb to an eerie pallor. The once vibrant lanterns now cast feeble, uncertain light on the pathway leading to the widow's walk.

The air was redolent of the sea, the sharp tang of fish mingling with an all too familiar scent of decay. It was the stench of desperation and disease, of bodies that had forgotten the touch of water. Yet, amidst the olfactory onslaught, came a chilling realization - this was home.

Adelina, knew this. She knew what is was like to live in a state of misery, she just didn’t realize she’d be trading one horror for another. Her face knit into an unspeakable, undeniable frown. Louis peered over. and gave her arm a light shake to get her attention.

"Don't be goin’ ungrateful on me now." he chided gently, but with an underlying menace, ushering her into a dim-lit alley and towards a door that seemed on the verge of disintegration at the slightest touch. Yet, it held firm. Louis acknowledged a man of middle years behind a counter, who seemed to harbor a burning desire to land a blow on Louis' face but simply couldn't muster the energy. Louis led Adelina through an endless maze of staircases, each one seemingly steeper and more confining than the last.

The buildings in Barovia were never this towering, Adelina mused silently.

"Behold, the humble abode," Louis jested, struggling with his keys before unveiling what could only be described as the epitome of squalor. It was the most appalling excuse for a dwelling that Adelina had ever laid eyes on - not that her exposure had been extensive.

She was no stranger to scarcity and had known nothing but hardship, but this level of disarray was beyond her comprehension. Her mother had always taken immense pride in maintaining their meager belongings, even to the extent of sweeping their earthen floor. Adelina used to find humor in the absurdity of dusting dirt off dirt. Now, she wished for the comforting presence of her mother, just to see her sweep, or merely exist in this chaotic moment.

An insect of some kind, scattered across the floor, Louis, squashed with the heel of his boot, before pretending like he didn’t see it. Adelina’s nose silently wrinkled, staring at it’s crushed body. It’s limbs were strewn across the rotting wood floor. A voice pulled her out of her observations.

“Don’t shoot me-- I’m just stealing a single egg.” a woman’s voice threw across the room, as her head popped up from underneath the kitchen island.

“Your key isn’t so you can steal, Shell.” Louis grumbled.

"Shell," echoed Adelina, the name striking her as peculiar, perhaps more suited to an ornate bauble than a woman. This 'Shell', as she had been christened, was a spectacle of intrigue. She was a woman in all the forms that Adelina's mother had cautioned her about - the kind that threatened marital bliss. Shell paraded her corsets as if they were mere blouses, her skirts shrank to the size of belts, and her stockings were worn as a badge of audacious display. She was adorned in a chaotic jumble of metals and gems, creating an ostentatious display of jewelry. A hat, worn askew, completed her ensemble, lending her the air of a disoriented mariner. Her lips bore the stain of bold crimson, and her hair, the color of cornfields at midday, hung straight and long, shimmering like liquid gold in the sunlight. Adelina wasn't afraid of Shell ensnaring her husband. She was afraid of being caught herself, unable to look away from the fascinating spectacle that was Shell.

“Ya? Well, little bit here was hungry, what are you goin’ to do huh, shoot me?”

She gestured downward, the eerie echo of a cabinet door opening and shutting in some macabre game reverberating around her. Shell exhaled heavily, hinging at the waist. When she reappeared, she cradled a mirror image of herself, but a version shrouded in an extra layer of protection. Her daughter, outfitted in a gown of the purest pink and whitest lace, had likely strived to maintain its pristine condition, but her efforts had been in vain. The girl's hair was woven into twin braids, in need of adornment, Adelina thought. Bows, perhaps, like the ones she'd once decorated her sheep with in their homeland. The little one clutched a whisk, looking every bit the image of a four- or five-year-old child. With a slight bounce, Shell repositioned the child on her hip. The girl's laughter rang out, a haunting melody in the silent room, her eyes full of nothing but adoration for her mother.

“Aint my problem.” Louis waved a hand. “Take your egg, and get out, eh? I want to spend some alone time with my beloved here?” His nod was a silent command, directed at Adelina. A frown creased her smooth forehead, the harshness of his words to Shell leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Shell herself was an enigma, a character torn from the pages of a gothic novel. Adelina found herself drawn to the mystery that clung to her like a shadow. She longed to peel back the layers, not just of Shell, but of everyone who crossed her path. A thirst for knowledge, for understanding, whispered insistently in her ear.


“Not even going to introduce me, huh?”With a note of disdain, she traversed the distance between them, a crooked smile playing on her lips. She was no puppet dancing on Louis' strings. Her arrivals and departures followed no pattern but her own whims. Adelina, watching her, could only think of one word: formidable.


“I’m Rochelle, Love. Call me whatever ya want. Hell knows everyone else does.” Her laughter echoed, a hollow sound that didn't reach her eyes. It seemed rehearsed, as though she had repeated the act a thousand times before. The name Shell didn't seem to suit her. She was no mere ornament, she was far more intricate than that. Adelina was certain, she would never refer to her as Shell.

“I’m Adelina.”Her answer came in a half-whispered confession, her lips curling up in a small, besotted smile directed toward the woman. Observing the merriment, Louis' eyes flickered with a hint of disdain, a silent scoff. He pushed open the door, his carelessness for the rudeness of his actions hanging thick in the air.

“Adelina, that’s pretty a name.” she tipped the brim of her hat. “This here is little Josie.” The girl who was being named curled into her mothers, side shyly. “Don’t take that personal, she hates Louis, not you.” she leaned into Adelina’s side, lightly, gossiping. “tis be the female experience.” she snorted, looking to Louis. “By the way you Ass, I kept your cat alive, you’re welcome.” and with that, she was out the door.

Adelina found herself entranced, her gaze lingering on the retreating figure.


As if she was the city's only beacon, outshining the artificial glow of the city of lights.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 11

Spoiler: show

“Adelina, awaken.” Louis leaned over her on the edge of their shared cot, his smile radiating warmth— the kind of smile that made all past transgressions easily forgivable.

“What—what is it?” she groaned, rubbing her eyes as she yawned, reluctant to rise.

“I’ve finished your gown,” he announced, beaming with pride.

“My gown?” She sat up, clutching the blanket around her chest.

“Oui, your wedding gown. I’ve completed the lace around the bodice. Don’t you want to try it on, mon amour?” He gently brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

“Da!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

“I will lace you into it; the back is quite elaborate,” he explained, lifting the gown over her head. He paused, struggling to ease it over her abdomen, a hint of frustration escaping him as he grappled with the garment.

Adelina frowned, attempting to assist by pulling it down.

“Stop! If you keep tugging so forcefully, you will ruin the stitching—it will not fit. Your body, mon amour, is expanding!”

“Perhaps I am with child—”

“That is not how it works; it has been merely one night. Did your mother not prepare you for such matters?”

“Well, no. She intended to, I imagine, but I—”

“What have you been eating? You are the size of a manor.”

“I have been consuming what I always eat—mămăligă, potatoes…”

“No woman requires a substantial meal like that. Merde! Do they feed all your women in such a manner? Like livestock? No wonder you grow to the size of a barn.” He grumbled, adjusting the stitching and letting it out slightly.

“Mother says I am becoming a woman, and this transition will leave me altered—”

“The women of dementileu do not alter themselves to such a disgusting degree.”

“Your words are rather hurtful,” she replied, her lip quivering as she stared at the floor. The excitement of wearing her gown began to wane.

“It is better to be wounded by a familiar sword than by an unknown one. It will not pierce as deeply,” he sighed, guilt washing over him as he stood, cupping her chin to make her look at him. She met his gaze with her large, brown eyes.

“It feels rather intrusive.”

“I seek to protect you from the customs of this land. You must adapt. Do you desire for me to have a foolish wife? Do you know what they will say when they see the whale of a woman you are becoming?”

“Must you liken me to such grotesque marine life?”

“If that is what it takes for you to conform. Don’t you wish to make me happy?”

Adelina frowned, a nerve struck. “Of course. All I desire is to make you happy.”

“Then you,” he prodded her gently in the abdomen, “will correct this, won’t you?”

Holding back tears, Adelina nodded faintly as she turned to gaze at her reflection in the mirror.

From that moment onward, she would never cease to do just that.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 12

Spoiler: show

The day of reckoning drew near. The matrimonial ceremony. Her second dalliance with marital bonds, this time it was different. Her heart fluttered with an intensity absent during her union with Cosmin. Her affection for Louis was undeniable. It was as encompassing as her understanding of the elusive sentiment we call love.
She penned a letter to her mother, her words spilling onto the parchment as she revealed her new home in Dementileu. She assured her of her safety, her joy, her blossoming love. She extended an invitation to the impending nuptials, even promising to cover their expenses. In response, a chilling missive arrived.

“Lina,
Your actions have brought shame upon us. You have tarnished our family's honor, and we cannot forgive or accept the path you've trodden. You might as well choke on one of your precious baguettes, and hang yourself from your silken garments. Now that you think you are so much superior to the land that raised you.  Our home will forever be barred to you. We've woven a tale for the townsfolk and neighbors, one where you fell victim to the night. It is more comforting to think of you as lost to us, as you seem to have lost yourself.”

Her mother didn't sign the note it was.. different. The elegant loops and ornate flourishes were a departure from her usual scratchy script. Adelina recalled her mother’s handwriting as a hurried scrawl, and this discrepancy nagged at her. But as Louis brandished the letter, his movements sharp and accusatory, she swallowed her doubts.
After all, why would Louis lie? She convinced herself. He loved her.

On that fateful morning, she poured herself into the unforgiving confines of the gown, a cruel, beautiful instrument of her own torture. Her meeting with Louis was predestined, on a beach where Rochelle and a motley crew of his comrades had assembled. It was a hasty affair, everyone's eyes darting skywards, tracking the slow ascent of dawn's first light.
The ceremony was a blur, a fleeting moment in time. Adelina had painstakingly crafted a tapestry of praises and promises for Louis, three pages worth of heartfelt vows. Her words, however, never met the light of day. They were replaced, overwritten by the priest's own rhetoric, reducing her to a mere echo of a "Yes." And so, a ring of faded gold found its home on her finger. The ring bore the marks of time, and the imprint of a previous owner - "for Charolette, with love." A stolen ring love, she realized.
In the grand scheme of things, it was inconsequential. Yet, he harbored an affection for her that transcended the trappings of reality. That, to her, was the only truth she needed to grasp.
As the solemn rites ebbed away, her joy was an unabated river, her countenance mirroring the effervescence of a bride in the blush of love. For she, too, harbored a similar fondness for Louis, one that eclipsed the fabrications she knew him to be cloaked in.
A cake was carved, its carrot crumb a nod to Adelina’s preferences, and it found its way into the eager hands of the gathered throng. Rochelle coaxed a melody from her violin, a siren call that invited all to lose themselves in the dance of celebration upon the sandy shores. Contentment hung in the air like an old, familiar song. Yet, as the sun ascended to its zenith, the crowd melted away, murmuring apologies of work obligations that couldn't be forsaken, not even for such a hallowed occasion. Louis was no exception.
Thus, Adelina found herself solitary, her gaze riveted on the unyielding dance of the ocean waves as they made their forceful introduction to the shore. It was in that moment she came face to face with her own insignificance.

[TherapyCat]

Chapter 12

Spoiler: show

Adelina spent her days watching the sun set and the moon rise as she awaited Louis's return from his labors—quite literally. She had devised a schedule for herself, though it was hardly remarkable.

This marked the conclusion of their first year of marriage.

4 AM - 5 AM: Prepare Breakfast for Louis

It is worth noting that Adelina was not particularly skilled in the kitchen. Therefore, her version of breakfast involved slicing two pieces of slightly stale bread and spreading jam across them. Louis often expressed his longing for more elaborate meals and urged Adelina to improve her culinary skills as a wife, yet she never responded to his criticisms.

5 AM - 6 AM: Clean the House

Cleaning the house was a task that required only an hour, as the term "house" was generous for their modest apartment. The kitchen, bedroom, living room, and dining area were all combined into one space. There is only so much one can clean a home that has been neglected for over twenty years. Despite this, Louis frequently complained that the house was never clean enough and that he deserved better upon returning home.

6 AM - 8 AM: Second Breakfast with Rochelle


After Rochelle sent away whatever "customer" had stayed the night, Adelina would sneak up to her room to share croissants and tea. This morning ritual remained a secret between them. Rochelle would regale Adelina with tales of the interesting men she encountered, often embellishing her stories with her clever disguises. Just yesterday, she had pretended to be a Lamordian clockmaker, but today she was simply Rochelle, the weary mother sharing gossip over pastries with her unlikely Barovian friend.

8 AM - 10 AM: Assist Rochelle with Cleaning

Although Rochelle never requested her help, Adelina couldn't resist tidying up. She had been raised to keep a clean home, and she knew that Rochelle, caught between her demanding job and raising Josie, could use the support. This also allowed Adelina to spend time with Josie, whom she adored. The child had a unique ability to brighten any room with her playful spirit and warm smile. Josie was bright and eager to learn, and Adelina was equally enthusiastic to teach her.

10 AM - 12 PM: Watch Josie

Adelina would take Josie back to her own apartment, where she would watch her while Rochelle worked as a waitress at the Broken Spire. This job paid less than her evening work, but as Rochelle often remarked, "Solars is Solars," shrugging her shoulders before kissing Josie goodbye. Although Rochelle frequently professed her love, her eyes often darted between Josie and Adelina, leaving Adelina hesitant to return the sentiment. However, her affection for Rochelle continued to grow.

12 PM - 2 PM: Prepare and Deliver Lunch to Louis

Once again, Adelina was no master chef, but she made an effort. Louis would receive a ham and cheese sandwich, a hard-boiled egg—albeit slightly undercooked—and a bottle of whiskey delivered to his loom. Each day, he would glare at her, declaring that she could have simply sent the meal without her presence. Adelina would respond with a somber smile, "I just wanted to see you," to which Louis would bitterly reply, "You'll see me when you get home." Yet, she persisted, hoping for a sign of appreciation for her effort in traversing the city with Josie in tow. Unfortunately, she gradually realized that a man can simultaneously love and resent a woman.

2 PM - 4 PM: Take Josie to the Beach (Weather Permitting)

At the beach, Adelina and Josie engaged in the usual activities: running through the sand, wading in the waves, building sculptures, and collecting shells. Adelina would weave fantastical tales of sea monsters to entertain Josie. Though they were not granted many chances for happiness, they managed to find joy in these moments.

4 PM - 6 PM: Clean Up and Prepare Dinner
Adelina would return Josie home, giving her a proper bath before attempting to prepare dinner. Most evenings, the meal was simple: sliced carrots, mashed peaches, bread, and crackers. Adelina preferred feeding children to adult men, and Josie didn't care about her cooking skills; she appreciated that Adelina fed her and was present.

6 PM - 8 PM: Attempt to Educate Josie

Adelina would sit with Josie, trying to teach her Mordentish while learning alongside her. They would study books and pamphlets for hours, struggling to grasp the complexities of the language. Once she surpassed her young student, Adelina began drafting children's books with illustrations to teach and entertain Josie. Though her artistic talent was modest, Josie's eyes would light up with joy as she engaged with Adelina's creations.

8 PM - 9 PM: Put Josie to Bed
Adelina would carry Josie to bed, tucking her into a makeshift cot constructed from worn mattresses and blankets. Each night, she would read from one of her own books, striving to create a story for Josie, even though she was not her child. After reading, she would whisper words of love before quietly exiting the room.

9 PM - 10 PM: Stargaze
As the daughter of a shepherd, Adelina was accustomed to rising with the dawn and working long hours, often staying up late to gaze at the stars. She didn't need to sneak away here, but she did. Opening the window of her room at Novak's, she would observe the bustling streets below, which were never truly quiet, even at night.

10 PM: Await Louis's Return
Initially, she never questioned Louis's whereabouts. Although she was no tailor, she assumed that crafting garments was a laborious task. Despite the majority of his clients being women, Adelina had no reason to doubt him; after all, he loved her. Men often evade suspicion as long as a woman loves them unconditionally.
However, one day, upon switching windows, she gained a new perspective. From this vantage point, she could see the alleyway and witness a familiar scene unfold daily. Louis would stand alone for what felt like an hour before a well-dressed man would approach him. This man, with black hair and dressed in black and soft jade green, wore a rapier at his side. Their conversations appeared heated, likely an argument, but eventually, they would embrace passionately, a display of affection that Adelina yearned for but never received from Louis.

Adelina found herself unable to look away, tears burning in her eyes as she eventually turned from the window. Perhaps she wanted Louis to feel remorse or perhaps she was convincing herself that he did not truly belong to her either.

12 AM: Greet Louis Upon His Return
When Louis finally arrived home, he seemed in a better mood than when he left, guilt never crossing his features. He would lean down to kiss Adelina, greeting her with "Mon amour." Sometimes he even smiled before casually slipping past her. He would speak animatedly about his day, indifferent to whether she was listening. Adelina would nod, smile, and remain silent, her heart heavy.

1 AM: Retire for the Night

The couple would lie down beside each other, gazing up at the leak in the ceiling. Some nights, Adelina would attempt to touch him, hoping to rekindle his interest. He would always decline. She would wonder aloud if they would ever have children of their own, but Louis would dismiss the idea. She never inquired about the man in the alley or what he meant to Louis, for she already knew the role she was destined to play in this unfolding drama.