Cinder X Bella ~ Twenty-Six!

Lunch was a strained affair, though to Bella's surprise, Matringa didn't immediately call her out or punish her for the fight. Her older stepsister sat across the table, glaring at her… unless Bella met her eyes. Then she would flinch away and pretend to be studying something in the room with undivided attention. 

Everyone seemed to be waiting with bated breath as Bebee ladled out the soup, serving the meal for the fractious family. Each person had a chunk of toast and salad, but only Bella began eating as soon as her portion was poured into her bowl. Each of the others dug in with their spoons but spent the first half minute pushing aside beans, searching for a single pea without avail. None of them found one, and she didn't miss how they glanced back and forth between each other as they came to realize she had succeeded in the task. 

“Humm…” Matringa drummed the fingers of her left hand on the table, smiling over at Bella happily. “I'm so glad you were able to make the soup to my standards. Cattiva is most displeased when she has to suffer through eating that particular vegetable. Yet, I look forward to having cooked peas with dinner. That won't be a problem, will it?”

“Of course not, Stepmother. I was more than happy to make sure there was no pea in the pot.” Bella returned calmly, “Still, I made sure to separate them out and save them in a saucepan. Waste not, want not, as my father used to tell me.” 

“Yes…” The drumming of her fingers continued, and Matringa took a deep breath. “On that note… your father.”

Now she had everyone's attention, and Signora Vigatori let out a long-suffering sigh as she stared up at the ceiling dramatically. “I've been waiting to make this announcement until we were able to come together as a family, and I think now is the time. Let's all support each other in this, but… the fact of the matter is, the head of our household continued on farther and farther to try and make his sales. He will be sailing with the Triste Mietitore. We anticipate his current journey could take another year, potentially a year and a half between the travel, sales, and building long-standing relationships in those communities.”

“That’s a-” Bella managed to catch herself before she called her stepmother out for lying, but as Matringa had been expecting an outburst, her stare was already piercing the younger woman. 

“What is your issue, child?” Matringa hissed at her in great agitation. “Can I not get through one announcement without being interrupted? Go on! Tell me what is so important that I can't speak first in my own house.”

“I'm sorry, it's just… that's a… long time for him to be away. I just miss him, is all.” Bella finished lamely, not able to meet her stepmother's eyes for fear of saying what was truly on her mind.

“This is our life savings we're talking about. The entire fortune of House Vigatori is on the line.” Matringa’s voice rose into not quite a shout by the end, but close. “Your father is doing what needs to be done so we are not left destitute! Already, I am preparing to make even more sacrifices to our comfort than I ever thought I would need to do.” 

“More? What more must we give up, mother?” Cattiva was the one who interrupted this time, throwing her fork—and the speared piece of lettuce—onto the table. 

“Cease your pouting, Cattiva.” Matringa’s shoulders slumped as she voiced what was going through her mind. “If we do not hear from Alaric after another nine months, I will have to sell the contracts for Bebee, Cece, and Dedee. Even with as little as it requires of us to take care of them, we could at least have a small influx of coins to put behind your dowry, Malvagio.” 

“What then, Mother?” The oldest stepsister slowly lowered her spoon. “What if we don't find a suitable suitor swiftly? Am I to start mopping the floors like a spinster in her mid-twenties who couldn’t secure a husband?”

“We'll burn that bridge when we come to it, darling.” Malvagio let out another sigh then put on a slight smile and turned to look at Bella. “Luckily, we have someone here who already knows the intricacies of the household and what all needs to be done. A toast to Bella, who will help us push through this tough time, no matter what!”

As the stepsisters raised their glasses in a mocking salute, Bella stared at her stepmother with dark eyes. “Really? This is all so very sudden and seems rather unlike my father. I'd like to read that letter. Just to try and better understand his reasoning, that is.”

“Humm…” Matringa shook her head sadly, though her twitching lips betrayed her internal laughter. “As much as I wish I could let you do that, dearest Bella, in a fit of pique, I'm ashamed to say I threw his letter into the fire. You may not know this, but you're not the only person who sometimes struggles to keep their temper under control.” 

“Let me get this straight, your daughters are going to take care of their bedroom. Meanwhile, I'm supposed to take care of all the rest, tend to the garden and animals, collect eggs from the chickens, and cook for the family? This certainly doesn't seem right, or anywhere near fair.” 

“Comparison is the thief of joy, child,” Matringa calmly took a sip from her glass, “And fair is where you go for pony rides and spun sugar. I don't think you should partake of either of those concepts. It's not good for your skin. Wrinkles.”

“Comparison? Comparison? There is no comparison! You intend to work me like a beast from dawn to dusk, while you and your spoiled brats lounge about-”

“Silence!” Matringa sounded angry, but her eyes were glimmering with victory. “You sit at our table, dining with us, anything to complain about what is necessary? We haven't even gotten to the point where this is a reality, being mere speculation of what could happen three-quarters of a year from now, and you're already throwing a tantrum! Of all the ungrateful people in my life… and to think your father spoke so highly of you in his letter. He would be so disappointed. Between this, and what you did to Malvagio earlier—she's going to have a bruise, Bella—I think you need some time away from family meals. You can start by leaving now.”

Having somewhat expected an outcome like this, Bella had long since finished her soup and bread, which meant she only had to leave approximately half her salad untouched. She didn't wait to be told twice, getting up and storming out of the room.

Contrary to what she was certain her stepfamily was thinking, Bella wasn't angry at her father for being gone, nor was she truly unhappy about having tasks looming over her in the future.

“If Matringa is saying he'll be gone for a year, it'll be at least one and a half, or two.” Her hands were shaking from adrenaline as she balled them into fists. “He'll be too late. I'll miss my opportunity to get to a Class Shrine and gain an Advanced Class. Even if I eventually manage to go and get my Full Class, I'll lose out on skills that would make me valuable to the world. I won't have even half of what a different candidate would have to offer, which means no apprenticeships, no skilled labor jobs. I'll be trapped here, likely even without an opportunity for marriage as an escape.”

Her eyes burning with determination, Bella walked out of the house, into the cellar, and quickly scooped a few sets of clothes into a woven-straw satchel. “I'm not going to stay here and be experimented on by these terrible people. Even if I can't afford the offering to get into a Class Shrine, I’ll find someone from the Sect of… what did he call it, so long ago? Sect of Scoprire! I don't care how unlikely it is, I'll get out there and find an awakening artifact and advance my class. I can always unlock my Full Class later, after I earn enough money. It doesn't have to be on my eighteenth birthday—I'll wait until I'm twenty, for all I care!”

Plan set, she began singing softly, not saying any words but still calling her trained mice to her side through sheer intentionality. This time, she didn't hold back at all, and every mouse in the house poured into her room. Looking around at the scores of rodents, she nodded and turned to the door without a word. She marched up the stairs, a living carpet swarming along behind her.

Bella rushed across the lawn, running in a straight line to the hedges closest to the hollow tree at the edge of the estate. As she got closer, the bushes twisted, straightening slightly to show the dripping thorns along their branches. Even so, she went up to them, carefully reaching out to grab an area without thorns and pushing it to the side. It squirmed in her grasp, popping back into position and leaving a deep scratch from wrist to elbow.

As blood flowed down her arm, Bella looked down at the wound in shock. She began to shake, lips curling back from her teeth as she tried to contain her anger. Dropping her satchel, she pulled out the clothes, wrapping them around her arms, then even putting her hands in the bag for extra protection before shoving forward once more.

The hedges pushed back against her, moving as she moved, unnaturally refusing to allow her to pass. “Some kind of skill… this must be Matringa! Well, two can play that game!”

“Nibble, gnaw, chew, and bite! We won't give up without a fight!” She sang to her mice, who swarmed forward and joined in the battle against the hedges. “Crunch, munch, and devour! I must be gone within the hour!”

For a moment, the surge of tiny teeth chewing through branches and roots seemed like it would be enough. The plants shuttered, shrinking back as an opening slowly formed. Then, one of the mice bit into a bulbous growth on the lowest part of the hedge. 

As it popped, a thick green smoke belched forth.