Cinder X Bella ~ Fifteen!

As days turned to weeks, Bella's excitement over her father’s decree began to wane. Each morning, he had a full schedule of anything from the new arrival of goods, potential partners vying for attention, to reveling and celebrating his success. The promised ‘talk’ never manifested, and though she didn't need to cook any longer, ever so slowly, Matringa stepped in to ensure she was given the hardest or most tedious tasks available.

Though Bella's hands were busy, her mind was free. Even if her hopes were fading, she finally settled on the method she would be using to convince her father to allow her to pursue her system-granted talents. “Numbers. Numbers and profit. My entire life, the only thing he's ever understood is calculations. If I could just get him to see how my skills will benefit the family business in the long run, maybe he would finally understand.”

Once she had settled on this plan of action, the errors in how she had pursued this in the past became obvious. Bella scoffed at her past self, who was young and brash. “Of course, my arguments over the love of my skill and so forth didn't mean anything to him. All he would see is a dramatic child who likes soft and fluffy creatures, not a serious potential revenue source.”

Over the next few days, while she was working, she made a mental list of all the things she could do with her gift which would make money, things which should appeal to her father as ‘proper’. As soon as she was done for the day, she would write everything out in her notebook, creating an enormous list and flowchart which she could use as a visual model for him. “I can start by helping to train noble lady’s pet dogs, or even hunting hounds, if I start while they are young enough. That might be tricky, since they grow fast… but the pets? I could earn myself invitations to all the noble houses in the kingdom if I show enough skill. If nothing else, that would gain Father additional business contacts.”

Once she had put down everything she could think of for her current skill set, her mind turned toward the future. “If I get my Advanced Class soon enough, I might still have time to unlock my second skill before turning eighteen and gaining a Full Class. Perhaps that would allow me to train larger creatures, such as horses and the like. Father's caravans could be moving at speed once more, and if we expand our ownership of land, I could help to train the horses or oxen which would be tending it. Profit from all corners.”

After several weeks of preparation, she had a full business proposition ready to go. It was time to stop waiting around to see if Alaric would remember his plan to speak with her. Grabbing her papers, she threw open her door and took a single step out, nearly running directly into Matringa—who was standing just outside her room with her hand lifted, poised to knock. “Oh. Step–that is, Signora Matringa. What can I do for you?”

“Let's talk, child.” The woman swept into the small servants’ room, pausing for a moment when she realized two paces had nearly brought her to the end of the available space. Bella took a deep breath—not particularly enjoying being called ‘child’ when she was approaching her sixteenth birthday at the end of this summer—but maintained a neutral, pleasant expression as she turned to face the woman invading her personal area. “I've spoken with your father, and he has agreed it's better for a woman to parent a girl than a man. After all, I understand what it is you need most, what you are thinking, and what you are going through.”

It took significant effort for the young lady not to immediately shove her finger at the intruder and clarify that she was only ‘going through things’ because Matringa was actively seeking to wear her down. “That's very generous of you to offer, Signora.”

“Isn't it, though?” Matringa’s ever-present smile widened, “I'm certain you understand he is busy with his work and new partners. Frankly, it isn't a good investment of his time to waste it on teenage fantasies. So, to make clear what I mean, if you have anything you'd like to request of him, bring it to me, and I will give you your answer. If I can't, I will determine if it is a question worthy of his very valuable time.”

Bella kept her mouth shut, simply looking at the smug stepmother showcasing a simpering smile. Matringa leaned forward, staring deeply into Bella's eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”

“I certainly understand what you are saying, Signora,” Bella replied neutrally.

“Oh me, oh my!” The stepmother straightened up, looking at her stepdaughter with cold, calculating eyes. “I suppose I'll just have to accept that answer for now, won't I? It's what is for the best, my dear. On a completely unrelated note, with so many new faces in the household, we've decided that anyone who can't listen to simple instructions will face suitable consequences. The hired help will be outright fired, but in your case, we would simply have to find some other… punishment.”

When the young lady simply remained silent, the smile finally fell off Matringa’s face. “Oh, child. Your father being home always causes you to act with such defiance. Truly, I don't know why, after all this time. Fine, keep your silence; I have another matter to discuss with you. With all this new staff, It wouldn't be proper for you to sleep in a room directly adjacent to all these unmarried men, especially unchaperoned as you are. As all the spare rooms have been emptied of furniture and filled with trade goods, I've made a new arrangement for you. A bed is being brought to the cellar, and a few of the new hires will be here shortly to move your personal items downstairs.”

Bella's mouth dropped open in horror, causing the corners of Matringa’s lips to curl as she finally got a reaction. Shaking her head and mock sadness, the cold woman spoke patronizingly. “All of that could have been called off, if I came here and found a dutiful young woman, as I've been trying to mold you into for the last… almost two years? Would you look at that? Time certainly does fly.”

“Surely, it would make more sense to put the wares in the cellar?” Bella voiced the question in such a deadpan tone that even Malvagio might have been impressed. The thought of living in the damp, dark, and spider-filled cellar was rattling her, but she was determined not to show it. 

“Don't be silly, child! Wares have intrinsic value, and they can spoil. Obviously, you've already been spoiled, so there's no more harm which can come to you.” Matringa chuckled at her own wit, though Bella simply firmed her stance as though a fifty-pound backpack was being strapped onto her. “Don't give me that look. You moving to the cellar is not a debate. I'm simply informing you so you know where to go at the end of the day. I like to think of it as a courtesy, so you aren't looking around for your bed in a room filled with packages. You should thank me.”

There was a lapse in the conversation where Matringa waited patiently, only to shake her head in disappointment. “No thanks? I guess next time, I just won't let you know before changing things, then. Good to know.”

Sweeping out of the room, the stepmother walked away without looking back. Bella waited a few heartbeats then followed after her. There was no hesitation in her step. She marched upstairs in search of her father, breathing deeply to try and clear the red tint from her vision. 

Murmuring from the dining room caught her attention, and she burst into the space, already launching into a furious outburst. “Father, your wicked wife is moving me to the cellar-”

That was as far as she got before her father shot up from his place at the table, face draining of blood, only for it to come back in a rush, leaving his skin red and splotchy. “Bella, you could not have worse timing. If there is something that needs to be addressed, you will do so privately.” 

Only then did she notice the other two men in the room, both of which were sitting across the table from her father, a glass of fine wine in their hands. They seemed completely aghast at the intrusion and looked between Alaric and Bella several times before one leaned to the other, clearly meaning to speak quietly but failing to do so thanks to his slight inebriation. “In my household, children don't interrupt business meetings.”

Hearing those words, Alaric’s eyes went wide, and any semblance of kindness he was trying to portray vanished. “It's time for you to leave, this is not the time-”

“Then tell me a time that works for you. I'll put it on the schedule.” Bella still had her notebook in her hand, and she flapped it slightly before opening it like a professional scribe. All three men now had shocked looks on their faces, and she froze as she realized how blatantly disrespectful she had just been.

“Alaric, I must ask.” The deep voice caused Bella's father to slowly turn toward the speaker, looking for all the world as though he had been carved from wood. “Can a man who can't handle his business at home truly handle our business out in the real world?”

“It will be handled, Signor.” Alaric flashed a glare at Bella. “I've been on the road, and have left her discipline to her stepmother. Perhaps for too long. Perhaps she's been too lenient and has been raising my daughter with values I do not welcome.”

Matringa’s voice rang out behind Bella, and the young woman immediately began shivering, “My deepest apologies, Maestros. This is entirely my fault. We will depart immediately and begin implementing extra etiquette lessons. Please don't hold a young woman's anger toward her father against her; it was the loss of her mother that led her down this path.” 

Bella felt a firm hand grip her arm, and as she was pulled out of the room with all the inevitability of a riptide planning to drown a swimmer, her father tossed out another decree.

“For the rest of the week, you are disinvited from dinner time with the family. You will also go without breakfast during this time. Perhaps a hungry stomach will teach you to focus your will and help you learn to keep your temper in check.” Alaric turned back to the other merchants at the table, a sheepish expression the last thing Bella saw on his face before the door started to close. “My deepest apologies, please allow me to refill your glasses, and let's put this unpleasantness out of our-”

The door finished closing into its frame with the same *thud* of finality Bella would associate with her casket being dropped into an unmarked grave. Matringa didn't let go of her, not saying another word as she dragged her charge outside, around the house, to the doors of the cellar. She yanked one up and pushed Bella forward almost hard enough to cause her to fall down the stairs. “Consequences, child. There are always consequences for your actions.”

Without further ado, Matringa shut the entrance to the cellar, leaving Bella in the darkness below.