Chapter Four: Shadow Of The Past
Two Years Later
At Madam Sanctuary’s Estate
The air was thick with tension as Madam Sanctuary and her trusted circle of women gathered in her lavish sitting room. A hushed conversation flowed between them, their voices laced with concern.
“The city has appointed a new Chief Judge,” one of the women remarked, setting down her teacup.
Another scoffed. “But he refused the ceremonial parade and the feast with his predecessor. That’s a bold move.”
A third woman leaned in, lowering her voice. “I hear he is an upright man—honest and unyielding. If that’s true, he could be a problem for us.”
Madam Sanctuary’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Even if he is, what power could he possibly wield? Every office in this city is in our hands.”
“But why would they send a man like him here?” another asked, eyes narrowing. “Did someone write an anonymous letter to the court?” She paused, then added suspiciously, “Could it have been that girl—Sarah? The one who humiliated us?”
Madam Sanctuary’s expression darkened. “Her boldness knows no bounds. We will put her in her place soon enough.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I hear she is doing well now, though she wears a veil. Perhaps she has a scar on her face—poetic justice, don’t you think?”
The room hummed with quiet laughter.
At Sarah’s Home
Inside a modest yet well-kept room, Rose burst in, gasping for breath. “My lady!” she cried. But as she took in Sarah’s appearance, she froze in shock. “My goodness… You look beautiful!”
Evelyn, now known as Sarah, smiled slightly but said nothing. She turned and made her way toward her grandmother’s room, where the older woman was preparing for a long journey.
“Let me help you with that,” Evelyn said, reaching for a trunk.
Her grandmother paused, studying her with perceptive eyes. “Why do you leave your bed and sleep on the cold floor every night?”
Evelyn didn’t hesitate. “I feel comfortable there.”
The old woman sighed. “You may look like Sarah on the outside, but are you still Evelyn on the inside?”
Evelyn met her gaze steadily. “I am Sarah. I was perfect as both.”
A chuckle escaped her grandmother’s lips. “You always were an unusual child.” Then, her voice softened. “Will you be all right on your own?”
“Rest assured, I will,” Evelyn replied. “There are many things I must look after.”
As the maids arrived to bid farewell, her grandmother finally departed, leaving Evelyn to her thoughts.
Logan’s Obsession
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit alley, Logan stood before a wall plastered with wanted posters. He tore one down, staring at the sketch of Evelyn’s face.
Jeff appeared behind him, arms crossed. “There you go again. Collecting every poster in the city—do you think that’ll make her appear before you?”
Logan didn’t turn. “It’s a ritual. A way to confirm that she’s still alive. It’s like a hobby—collecting them from all over the nation.”
Jeff scoffed. “And if she’s alive, what then?”
Logan exhaled slowly. “Then I know I haven’t lost her completely Jeff.”
Jeff shook his head. “Listen, you’re not Logan here. You’re Peter—the Heavenly Storyteller. Keep your identity safe.”
Logan smirked. “Right. And you’re not Jeff—you’re Isaac, the man who dreams of riches. Why do I keep forgetting.”
Before Jeff could respond, a commotion erupted nearby. The townspeople spotted Logan and began shouting.
“Get out of here, now,” Jeff muttered.
Jeff stepped forward, addressing the crowd with a grin. “You’ll see the heavenly storyteller properly tomorrow. Today’s just a glimpse.” Then, he turned and disappeared into the night.
At the Market
Rose hurried through the bustling streets, pushing past people gathered around a poster. “Excuse me, let me through!” she said.
When she finally reached the front, her breath hitched. There, displayed prominently, was an announcement: The Heavenly Storyteller, Peter, is coming to town.
Her hands trembled. “Oh my gosh… Am I dreaming?”
Before she could process it further, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away. She turned, ready to protest, but froze when she saw him.
“Felix…” she whispered.
Madam Sanctuary’s only son smirked. “You always run into trouble, don’t you?” He pressed a pouch of coins into her hand.
Rose shook her head. “I told you not to do this! If your mother finds out, I’ll be beaten to death.”
Felix only chuckled. “Consider it a little help.”
“What do you mean?”
Instead of answering, he formed a small heart with his fingers and winked before vanishing into the crowd.
Rose stood there, heart pounding. What just happened?
Back at Sarah’s House
Sarah sat beside the chief maid, carefully demonstrating embroidery.
“No, you’ve cut too much off. Just the tip—this part is bad,” she instructed.
The chief maid frowned. “Yes, Sarah.”
A moment later, Sarah snapped, “No! Stop! If you cut that much, there’ll be nothing left! How do you forget everything I teach you?”
With a frustrated sigh, the chief maid slammed the fabric down. “Darn it!”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Are you irritated with me?”
The maid shook her head. “No… It’s about Rose. She left early this morning and hasn’t returned.”
“She went to the market,” Sarah replied. “I asked her to buy some books.”
Just then, Rose ran in, breathless. “My lady! The Heavenly Storyteller is coming tomorrow!”
The chief maid scowled. “Why do you even teach her how to read? The only thing she ever reads is romance novels.”
Rose pouted. “Chief, you should learn too! One must enjoy a bit of culture.”
The chief maid scoffed. “Culture? Nonsense.” She stormed off in irritation.
Rose sighed. “Why is she so moody lately?” Then, turning to Sarah, she grabbed her hands. “Let’s go watch The Storyteller together!”
Sarah smirked. “Do you love him or something? Do you want to marry him?”
Rose’s face turned bright red. “Oh my! What are you saying?! I will never marry! I’ll live with you forever!” She put on a pitiful expression. “Please, let’s go see him.”
Sarah chuckled. “Is he really that amazing?”
Rose’s eyes sparkled. “You don’t understand! He doesn’t just tell stories—he acts them out. He dances and performs, making it feel alive. And he wears a mask, but you can see just a little of his face. He looks so handsome!”
Sarah tilted her head. “Is that so?”
“That’s all you have to say? You have no interest?” Rose huffed, then suddenly gasped. “Oh! There’s a novel that reminds me of this! It mentions a necklace—just like the one on your neck!”
Sarah’s fingers brushed over the pendant resting against her collarbone. “A necklace?”
?”
Sarah flipped open a book. “It’s written right here.”
Rose gasped. “That’s right!”