Chapter 70 - Cemetery- Part 4

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nBelle could tell that her relatives were not happy with her decision. They looked her at her as if she had lost her mind.

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"You are still a child,

" said one of the aunts.

nBefore anything more could be added to the fuel that was going to ignite, she said,

"Thank you for coming here today, to see my parents and to pay your respects to them,

" she shut the woman down as if she hadn't heard her aunt speak anything.

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"Aunt Felicia is not done speaking, Belle. Is that the way you speak to her?

" questioned Mrs. Harriet,

"I don't think there's anything-

"

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"Thank you,

" Belle said, not wanting to talk anymore and moved closer to stand near her parent's grave. The cemetery was built in the midst of the forest and people could hear the birds singing songs as they sat in the branches of the trees.

nThe woman named Felicia was Mr. Adams' brother's wife stared at Belle's back,

"What they say is true. You don't have a proper guardian and you have turned nothing but spoiled. I even heard you chased the one you had graciously received from the pureblooded lady. Your arrogance will get you nowhere little girl, learn to be humble while we are only trying to be helpful,

" the woman walked ahead to her husband's side to say,

"It would be best to go to the council and put an appeal as she doesn't know what is right and wrong for her age.

"

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"She's too young, Felicia,

" spoke Aunt Irene,

"I will talk to her. Belle always listens to me. She would never say no,

" said the vampiress with a calm smile on her lips,

"She is possibly very tired, let us give her some space that she needs,

" she suggested.

nWhen most of the relatives started to leave the cemetery, Belle offered a small smile to them to see them hop into their fancy carriages one after another and leave but her aunt continued to stay.

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"Will you be alright by yourself?

" Aunt Irene asked her.

nBelle gave her a nod. Meeting the relatives was tiresome because of their questions and things that she had to hear from them. Her aunt hugged her again before pulling back to hold Belle's hands in her hands to say,

"Okay, if you say so. But you wouldn't mind dropping by our mansion next weekend, would you? Your mother was my sister. It is the least I can do for her.

"

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"I will be there,

" Belle replied and saw her aunt smile.

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"Stay safe. We will drop by the mansion soon,

" Aunt Irene and Uncle Hector left the cemetery in the carriage that was waiting for them. This left only the white witcher, father Connor, her butler, Lucas, and Belle alone. The birds continued to sing.

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"I will be taking my leave too,

" Father Connor bowed his head and left them alone.

nBelle finally took in a deep breath to let it go,

"We should be going to,

" she said looking up at the sky through the many branches of leaves that tried to cover the sky that had turned cloudy again.

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"Yes, Miss Belle,

" Lucas obliged and raised his hand for the coachman so that the coachman could pull the carriage and get it ready for them to leave. Lucas wasn't wearing his butler uniform, instead he wore clothes like any other men here. Black shirt, black trousers, a black coat that went past the knees, and his usual black gloves on his hands.

nOn their way back, with Belle's footsteps slow she asked,

"Have you ever lost someone, Lucas?

" she had never heard anything about his family except that he had come from Mythweald.

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"Many,

" he answered her and she looked to her side where he was walking beside her,

"We all lose someone or something, milady. It is how nature is. Some naturally because of age or illness and some because of some odd catastrophe that takes place.

"

nShe wondered who he had lost but being intrusive over a sensitive topic would be rude, felt Belle to herself and she refrained from asking about it.

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"Do you know how much the Adams' mansion costs?

" she asked him out of curiosity as she herself had never thought about it before.

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"More than most of them can fathom.

"

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"Really?

" Belle asked him with a frown. Was that why Mr. Wellington was trying to get the mansion from her father? How much did Olivia pay to have Mr. Wellington to stay quiet,

"Tell me.

"

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"Mr. Adams only had to give back the money to Mr. Wellington which was loaned by the townsmen who died because of the mass murder that took place by the hands of the black witches. If I am not wrong Mr. Wellingtone didn't want the money but wanted the mansion therefore which he proposed to take.

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"Mr. Wellington has enough money. He can buy any mansion he wants or build it from scratch,

" Belle stated knowing how well off the man was when it came to financial terms.

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"True,

" Lucas himself had been interested in knowing why the pureblooded vampire wanted to get his hands on this before he was pacified with Lady Olivia's money,

"The man appears to be doing some shady work alongside a man who works in the council. The mansion must be special because I heard Mr. Adams telling your mother that the mansion was acquired by a pureblooded vampire who it originally belonged to. If I am not wrong, Mr. Wellington had planned to get back the house again in terms as Lady Olivia is not part of the first former agreement of their work.

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"Will he come back?

"

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"No,

" answered Lucas,

"The mansion doesn't belong to Mr. Adams anymore. It was changed to your name as being the sole owner of it when Lady Olivia handed the papers back,

" it was he himself who had suggested the change knowing Mr. Wellington was going to get back the mansion again with his crooked ways.

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"I can see why my relatives are trying to get me into their houses,

" a dull smile appeared on Belle's face. It was a very basic understanding in their society that if a girl like her was taken care of by her relatives all the properties that belonged to her would go in care of her caretakers,

"What are your thoughts on that?

" she asked him as they made their way through the cemetery by walking past the trees.

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"You have very interesting vultures who can barely wait to get their hands on you,

" answered Lucas.

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"Vultures,

" murmured Belle to herself.

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