Beyond The Veil,

The Goldings had been warm and welcoming, even though Nephele had her reservations because she was still mourning the loss of a dear friend. Renny Golding treated her like a father would his daughter, sometimes even giving her more attention than his own son.

Elvis Golding was happy to have a sister and always tried to make her talk and play with him, but it had taken Nephele months to say a single word and the family had been overjoyed when she finally did. Nephele never forgot about Jethro. She tried several times to visit Scarrow with Renny, but they never found him at the place they used to live. Renny had even sent out people to search for him but it was futile.

She had received the best education and training, attended parties and soirees, interacted with the wealthy and influential. She had lived comfortably and happily. That was until Renny Golding fell seriously ill and he couldn't be cured. No one, not even her dearest brother Elvis would discuss their father's illness with her, always assuring her that it wasn't serious.

Nephele would sit by her father's bedside all day, talking to him and reading to him when he was too exhausted to talk. She would tell him about her day, then she would wait until he fell asleep to go to her own room. She would cry herself to sleep because she knew his condition was deteriorating. Her only distraction and consolation was Elvis and her books.

Even when Elvis gave her up—or sold her for all she knew, she couldn't understand why or how it happened.

"Do you wish to go back?" Lucy asked after Nephele was done narrating. Her eyes were filled with sympathy, finding Nephele's story too relatable.

Nephele thought for a moment before answering. "I do want to get out of this hellhole, but I don't think I can ever look at Elvis the same way. I would like to go back for father, and I would also like to know why Elvis did what he did."

Lucy's eyes dimmed even more. She had never been good at consoling people and she wouldn't start now. Besides, what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

"Who gave you the name Nephele?" She asked, acutely curious, but also an attempt to change the topic.

Nephele smiled at the question. "Laurel said it was my birth mother. She knew her before she died and that's why she adopted me."

It was partly true. Nephele was named by her birth mother, but Laurel never knew Nephele's parents. She only told Nephele that so she would stop asking questions.

"Now it's your turn," Nephele reminded Lucy, who seemed to have forgotten their deal. She had been curious as to why anyone would give up their life for whatever it is they did at the convent, and now she had an opportunity to hear it directly from one of them. She was in for a surprise.

….

There were a number of families that were very, very powerful in Vadronia, nearly more powerful than the royal family itself, and the Levan family would have been in second place.

Derrick Levan was the wealthiest and the most influential man in the Levan family. His father had royal blood but gave up the throne for his cousin, Merlin Feeler, who was the current Vadronia king, therefore, Derrick Levan was respected even by the King himself, earning him a lot of influence in Vadronia and Alvalhem.

The Levans had wealth, property, estates, businesses. They had everything and were well connected throughout the entire Kingdom.

Creusa Levan or sister Lucy as she was currently known was Derrick Levan's only child. She'd been born and brought up in wealth. Her parents dotted on her and she lacked nothing. She could speak different languages, she could draw, she could okay several musical instruments, she could fight, she could cook even though she grew up having servants at her disposal. There was nearly nothing Creusa didn't know, or at least had an idea of how it was done.

She was brought up to be a proper young lady as well as a kind human. Creusa was loved by everyone in her father's house. Her father's servants and guards were loyal and treated her with utmost respect.

Derrick Levan had started taking her daughter to social gatherings at an early age despite societal expectations. A young lady was supposed to make her debut when she was at least fourteen, and most ladies from wealthy families debuted at sixteen. Creusa never made her debut, but she was popularly know by the time she was eleven.

Derrick was making a statement. By exposing her daughter to social gatherings and even business affairs, he was saying that Creusa would be his successor. That didn't sit well with the other, less wealthy and less influential Levans.

Creusa hadn't interacted much with her aunts and uncles, simply because her parents didn't want her to. She only saw them when there was a social gathering or when they came to see her father about a debt or a business proposal or to invite them for a cousin's wedding or a soiree. In short, she didn't know much about her family.

When Creusa was twelve, her father started falling ill. They consulted all kinds of physicians from all over the Kingdom, but none could tell what was ailing him. That was when Derrick started taking Creusa's physical training more seriously. Before, he had been lenient with her, but he started overseeing her training personally, and even though Creusa was young, she could tell that her life was about to change. The same year was when she started learning accounts, her father being her personal teacher.

Things started changing around the mansion, and suddenly, Creusa wasn't allowed to interact freely with any other servants except her personal maid and guard. There was tension all over the estate, and despite her relentless questions to her mother, no one discussed anything with her.

It was in the next year that Creusa learned that her father had been consuming bits and bits of poison, and it had already altered his normal body functions.

Creusa sat in the neat, old and sophisticated office, staring at her father expectantly. He was seated opposite her, the huge mahogany desk standing between them.

"Creusa," he called softly after minutes of silent hesitation passed between father and daughter. Derrick was a tall, strong built man with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. He was an intimidating man, but at the moment he was just a father, trying not to break his daughter's heart by delivering the news he'd been prolonging for an entire year.

Creusa had sharp brown eyes and was very intelligent. She could pick up her father's ease even from the way he held his hands together. "Father, what's the matter?" She asked, her voice firm and calm.

A thin smile stretched Derrick's lips. Creusa could maintain calm in any kind of situation. She had mustered the art of indifference, and strangely, it eased his tension a little bit. She was strong. She would be fine.

"I'm not sick," he begun, and he watched as the mask of indifference gave way to raw emotion. Creusa was relieved, then confused, but he continued before she could ask anything, "I'm dying."