With freedom only hours away, Angie took a deep breath. She could allow herself to be Angel for just a few more hours, though difficult now seeing a way out of this nightmare. The burden of that cold mask could be bared just a little longer... That's all she needed to bear it... Just a little longer. She reassured herself as the pained expression on her face relaxed and her eyes slowly adopted a glassy gloss to them. Angel felt a strange detachment seeing this change in her face through the mirror. She slipped out of bed in one fluid motion, reaching upwards and grasping the bell cord that hung next to her bed. 

Angel slipped on a glossy silk robe matching her nightgown and tied it. Knowing Courtlund or Seward's proclivities it was best to at least be modest should they try to test her boundaries once again this morning. Angel made her way over to the glass doors that led to her balcony just outside her room looking at the clouded sky. The season of harvest was often cloudy and rainy in the Hastings Dukedom. 

To be honest, the Dukedom was just generally a rainy place, and when it didn't rain it was snowing. It was only really sunny about a month out of the year. Angel's eyes went down toward the garden of the estate, just off to the left-hand side of her window. There had been a time she had tried to liven up the place with some roses... They died quickly due to the overnight frost that hit. 

She had thought because Angelica had been successful in that in the book it would be possible for her as well. She even used the same methods as she did, some magical stone to help enchant the roses. But it had been a failure... One of the many failures Angelique had in attempting to change the Hastings Family. Angel pressed her hand against the foggy glass letting a long breath, she wasn't the main character-- not that she wanted to be. Angel would much rather test the tensile strength of the bell cord against her body weight than do what Angelica ended up doing in the book.

But she had hoped to-- well to change things... Angelica wasn't a bad person, she wasn't like the other Hastings. But as the book continued that moral goalpost kept being moved for her and she was slowly corrupted. The Angelica at the end of the novel compared to the Angelica at the beginning... While the Hastings family did improve dramatically by the end of it all. The sins that she helped cleanse from the family did not come without the cost of Angelica's innocence. Both in a metaphorical and... Very literal sense.

So Angelique while never expecting that she'd get to stay in the family-- again she never wanted to. Hoped to at least soften the blow for the female lead and pave at least a better path forward for her in the future. But it wasn't possible... While there had been small victories-- managing to convince her father to release indentured servants after so many years and that those the estate had purchased should be taken care of as they were part of their family's valuables... 

She remembered the comparison of beating an enslaved person was the same as throwing a vase against the wall... While it didn't always break the first time. Once it was broken there was no fixing it or getting its value back... An argument she had not been proud of. Angel never liked the idea of comparing people to things. But there was no way in hell a sociopath like Whitfield would give up the thrill of enslaving other people. She at the very least managed to secure some protections for the people she couldn't help escape. 

 But outside these victories managing to convince the duke or his sons to actually behave like reasonable people... Well, the effort it took was nearly constant and exhausting. As much as Angel hated to admit it-- sometimes it was better to let other people face them than to put up with them herself. She stared at her reflection frowning deeply... She felt dirty-- useless-- awful... She was a coward and she knew it. She knew that by leaving here she was leaving Angelica and the others to face those four terrible men on their own.

But she couldn't take it anymore... She had lit herself on fire so many times to keep others warm. She felt like she was dying with each second that passed, the heavy burden of existing in this house amongst this family. Again the bell cord-- a letter opener-- even trying to swan dive off of the balcony seemed like the better option at this point.

After just a few minutes the door to Angel's room opened, and her maids made their way into the room. They paused at the door seeing that she was awake as Angel turned and looked over at them. "Took you lot long enough to get here." She remarked sharply, "Sorry milady..." One of her maids apologized bowing just a bit, "Young Master Seward... Expressed interest in your laundry again." The same maid spoke carefully as she held a basket of clothes, Angel held back the bile in her throat and sighed. Seward was the youngest of the Hastings and the son of Whitfield's second wife-- Angelina Hastings-- younger sister to Whitfield's first wife Angella Hastings... Angelina ran off after giving birth to Seward before Angel had been adopted.

Last she heard Angelina had switched back to using her real name Dina after managing to get out of Whitfield's grasp. Angelique may or may not have intercepted the information and may or may not have happened to throw it into the fire of Whitfield's study after covering the paper in oil. She hoped at the very least, Dina was somewhere safe and happy now. And should she happen to have died-- well Angel hoped she died a free woman away from Whitfield Hastings.

Regardless of the fate of Angelina "Dina" Hastings, her absence did leave a void in her son's life. Seward being young and impressionable had happened to be Angelique's main target for change in the Hasting's estate. She did her best to instill some form of morality in the young boy. But that quickly backfired-- especially now he was approaching his fifteenth birthday seemingly determined to convince Whitfield to allow him to marry Angelique once he came of age or perhaps sooner. Never mind getting Angelique's consent-- something that all Hastings men seemed to forget existed most days.

Angel held back a shudder, she kept her face flat and expressionless, "He is at that age I suppose." She remarked turning to face them fully, "Burn everything he liked." She flatly ordered. "Yes, milady." Her other maids agreed. "Ready some more modest clothes today. I can't have my littlest and dearest brother endangering the strength of our family because he can't rid himself of childhood attachments." Angel spoke with a scoff in her voice as if she found her youngest brother's attraction towards her inoffensive and unthreatening.

Though in truth, Angelique wanted to throw up at the very thought. Again-- again bellropes, letter openers, and swan dives into the ground all seemed like better options. Even if by some chance Esmund or Courtlund the more age-appropriate options expressed interest in her. Angel would never-- ever marry into this damned family. She'd rather starve on the streets, she'd rather sell her body than be stuck in this nightmare of a family for the rest of her life.

Her maids moved around the room-- cleaning and readying everything. "Run a bath as well." She ordered watching them work, "Yes milady." They all replied in unison. Bed made, clothes ready, and bath ran-- Angelique was helped into the tub in her ensuite bathroom carefully. She sunk into the waters as her maids assisted with cleaning her body.

Rose petals floated on the surface of the water and clung to Angelique’s skin. Angelique leaned her head back allowing her maids to get a better angle when washing her hair. For a moment she allowed herself to be soothed by the thorough pampering-- until she heard a muffled scream just on the other side of the wall.

All three of Angelique’s maids stiffened at the sound, a couple of them flinching when the recognizable sound of a whip was heard. Although muffled the disgusting wetness to the crack could be heard and Angelique recognized the sound of a whip hitting skin anywhere.

Angel let out a soft hissed through clenched teeth. Out of everywhere in the mansion… Courtlund decided to act up in the room just next to Angelique. “Milady?” One of Angel’s maids questioned nervously. Angelique let out an annoyed chuckle, “It seemed my dearest older brother is in an interesting mood this morning.” She spoke as if her adopted brother had woken up on the wrong side of the bed rather than--.

Another whip crack and scream, then some muffled shouts and cruel laughter.

Angelique closed her eyes sighing, “Looks like Brother Courtlund needs a reminder of Father’s rules.” Angelique spoke as if unbothered by the terrible sounds next door. She picked a rose petal off of her knee flicking it away as if the imported rose was worth nothing to her. 

“Such a burden to be the only filial daughter to the Hastings I bear.” She expressed albeit a bit dramatically with a touch of sarcasm. Filial she was not, she’d sell this family for a literal stick of gum if she got the chance. “You’re the pride of the Hastings family milady.” One of the maids praised a bit nervously.

Angelique smiled up at one of her maids, “How kind of you to say,” She replied, “Could you be a dear and get my whip? I need to visit my brother.”