The dining hall erupted in chaos.
"Richard! Richard!" Eleanor screamed, her voice cracking as she clung to his slumped body. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips, staining his skin with a horrifying red.
Footsteps thundered down the hallway. The family doctor burst in, hair disheveled, medical bag half-open.
"Move aside!" The doctor barked, already dropping to his knees beside Richard.
Ella stood frozen, her breath caught somewhere in her chest. Eleanor knelt beside Richard, her hands trembling violently, or so it appeared.
The doctor began compressions, his palms thudding against Richard's unmoving chest. "One, two, three—" he tilted Richard's head back, trying to force air into his lungs that no longer responded. "Stay with me, come on…"
The room held its breath as they all watched in silence as the doctor did his work.
But Richard's body remained limp. His eyes were glossy, half-open, and he was staring at nothing.
Minutes passed.
The doctor slowed, and his hands finally stopped. A heavy silence settled over the hall.
"I'm… I'm sorry," the doctor whispered. "He's gone."
A wail tore from Eleanor's throat as she collapsed over Richard's still body.
Ella felt the ground tilt beneath her. She couldn't believe Richard was dead in the blink of an eye.
"No! No! This can't be happening!" Cindy screamed, her eyes shaking with denial. "Doctor, there must be another way! He can't… my father can't…"
The doctor stared at Cindy with a sad, pitiful look as he shook his head. "There's nothing left I can do. I did my best. Condolences to the family," he stated, stood up, and left the room.
"No! NO! This can't be happening!" Cindy screamed as she crawled toward Richard and hugged his bloodied body and didn't care if her dress or skin were tainted red.
Anna, on the other hand, remained sobbing in the corner of the room. She didn't even dare look up or glance at their father. She was rocking her body back and forth while humming a soft tune to comfort herself.
The rest of the household staff drifted in, shocked and devastated. Some cried. Others whispered prayers.
And Eleanor kept crying loudly enough. She scooted a bit to make room for Cindy.
However, Ella noticed Eleanor's sobs sounded rehearsed, like a performance meant for an audience.
Ella took a deep breath. She looked around and wondered if she was the only one in their right mind at that moment. So she decided to keep things going.
"Can somebody escort Lady Anna back to her room for comfort?" Ella commanded, her voice firm yet trembling.
The nearby servants looked at each other, but followed Ella's orders as they picked Anna from the floor and guided her back to her room. Anna didn't fight back as she could barely walk due to shock and depleted energy.
"I'll stay with my father," Cindy said, looking up, glaring at Ella. She didn't want to leave Richard's side, as she was still in denial.
"The servants need to get and prepare father's body—" Ella barely finished her sentence when Cindy screamed.
"NO! NO! HE IS NOT DEAD!" Cindy's voice shocked everyone with its volume.
That also woke Eleanor's mind as she stared at Cindy.
"Cindy, my dear. You need to rest," Eleanor spoke between silent sobs. "Ella is right. They need to start preparing Richard's body."
"NO, NO!" Cindy screamed again, but Eleanor already gestured for the male servants to drag Cindy away.
"Lock her in her room if that's what's needed for her to stay sane," Eleanor announced as the servants dragged Cindy away, who continuously screamed.
Gradually, one by one, the staff filtered out and arranged sheets over Richard's body, speaking quietly of burial rites, and they took his body away to another room.
At last, the dining hall emptied.
Ella looked back at Eleanor, who remained seated, staring into space. She wanted to ask several questions, but deemed it was not a good time and retreated into her room, as she was tired as well.
Eleanor closed her eyes for a brief second before releasing a deep breath. She glanced at the door, and when she noticed that Ella wasn't around, her sobs stopped. She wiped her wet cheeks aggressively, and her breath evened out.
"Ah, this is tiring," Eleanor murmured, taking a small mirror from her pocket and looking at her reflection. The tears clinging to her lashes caught the candlelight, too perfectly in place.
Eleanor raised a hand and wiped them away. Her face emerged behind her palm, and her expression had entirely transformed.
No grief.
No sorrow.
Just cold stillness.
Eleanor's lips pressed into a thin, thoughtful line as she stared at the red stain on the white tablecloth.
"Finally," Eleanor murmured under her breath, barely audible, almost a sigh of relief. "It's done."
Eleanor leaned back in her chair, spine collapsing against the frame like her bones had finally been allowed to rest.
The hall was silent now. Too silent. That kind of silence that pressed against the ribs and made one's own breathing feel loud.
For the first time, Eleanor could hear herself think, and her thoughts were tired, very tired.
Her hands that had trembled earlier, which used to hold Richard's dying body, now lay limp on her lap. They weren't shaking anymore.
'Acting is also a tough job,' Eleanor thought as she closed and opened her hand as if meant for exercise. They hadn't truly been trembling to begin with, only performing.
Eleanor looked up to the ceiling as the candles flickered before her. She slowly cracked her neck to the side to relieve the pressure building from all the work she had done.
"I tried to be a good wife. Even after knowing I was just a replacement. I tried to get your affection, but you didn't even see me as a person," Eleanor whispered. Even though her eyes were open, her mind was elsewhere as she remembered the days she had spent inside Richard's manor.