Promises of Glory

“Do not fear what you do not understand, and do not hate what you do. You are not the judge of anything but your own person.”

-Unknown Monk

There was a long moment that Rhode didn’t know what to do with. Should she forgive him? Was it even that big of a deal? Should she laugh? Finally Rhode decided it was best to put his mind to ease. She nodded and said, putting to practice her manner lessons, “All is well Theo, I don’t mind. You did what you had to do in order to stay on her good side.”

The boy seemed to sag with relief. He beamed down at her. It was annoying enough that Rhode wanted to slap the smile right off his face, she hated to be reminded of how short she was.

Theo spent the rest of the day parading the girl around, showing her the best places to sleep.

“What’s this?” Rhode asked. The garden had taken a turn down creepy with the last few steps. The paving stones started to become broken, fractured. She pointed to the fountain, covered in vines and gnarled plants.

Theo seemed to not want to look at it, “A fountain.” He tapped his fingers on their intertwined arms.

“Why is it so overgrown?” Abandoned. It looked abandoned, like nobody cared. Overlooked and thrown away.

“Nobody tends to it.” He said it like it was a matter of fact. Like Rhode just somehow should know why nobody tends to it.

She clicked her tongue. “Why not?” The maid gave her a warning look. Rhode dismissed it.

“It’s haunted.”

Rhode laughed.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I do not. Though I’ve always wanted to see if ghosts exist.” For her mother, she wanted to know if her mother was happy. For her teacher, who raised her, gave her the skills she needed to survive.

“I hate the stories.” He shivered.

“What are the stories?”

“That there’s a little boy that haunts the fountain. Story is that he drowned in it, so now his spirit can’t leave.” The thought of that made Rhode kind of sad. To think that a soul would be tied to their worse memory.

“What else?” She practically was begging him to go on, to tell her more.

Theo rolled his eyes, patting the hand on his arm. “Calm down child. I’m getting there.” He laughed at the face she gave him. “The little boy cries and cries, saying something about a crown.”

That caught her attention. She looked back, the maid seemed to be out of earshot. “Does Alys know about these stories?”

“I don’t see why she would.” He tapped his chin.

“What does it say about the crown.”

Theo shivered. “I don’t know personally, he only comes out at night and I never wait around to see.”

“That’s fine, tell me the stories.” She urged him to go on.

“Well, apparently, there’s this crown -made of gold or tin or something- and he wants someone to find it real bad. He would keep saying that someone was coming, that they were going to take the crown, and someone had to stop it.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, the stories never say.”

Rhode grumbled, “That’s just perfect.”

Rhode stumbled out of the house, tripping over her feet in a manner very much unlike herself. She was tired, she told herself, she hadn’t been awake during this late in so long.

The main doors creaked open behind her, Isabelle came out, grace in every footstep. Rhode looked at her with a mix of anger and envy. She wished she was still as light on her feet as she was in her prime. But the lifespan of a thief was short, that she knew well.

Rhode bounced over to the western gardens, trying to maintain the cheerful facade.

“Where are you going, my lady?”

Rhode rolled her eyes but kept going. “Don’t call me that.”

There was a huff of irritation from behind her. Then Isabelle called out, “What am I supposed to call you?”

“My name.”

“Miss Novak, where are you going?”

“Okay,” Rhode turned back to her, “my name is not Novak, it never was and it never will be. My name is Rhode Corvo. Corvo, got it?”

Isabelle nodded, a blush on her face, “I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend. I was unaware that you were so opposed to taking your grandmother’s name.”

Rhode dismissed her apology with a wave of her hand. “Whatever. Now, I need to find that ghost.”

The maid nodded. Following the girl.

The two of them got to the fountain. Rhode gasped, it looked like it had been laid to waste in the dark night.

The cracks were deeper than they appeared in the sunlight. It was like the moon made every mistake known underneath it. There was no escaping the disrepair of this place.

The girl took a delicate seat on the fountain’s lip. Waiting. Waiting. But she was asleep by the time the sun arose and no ghost had come to greet her.