Clarkson the psychopath and his son are the ones.
The Segregation Cell
Chaining her onto the table, Smithson reveled in the Lady Flarice's predicament.
“I hope she will bear the pain with dignity.”
“Fetch the potion.”
The shadow of the wax block diverted, she recoiled, her vision-disks watered as I sanitized Lady Flarice’s honeyed-place with the solution her face turned ruby. Grunting sounds came from Lady Flarice’s lips it was a sin, a Lady should always appear refined before her Knight.
“That is enough,” Smithson said.
I was irate, but I knew Smithson was correct and in the back of my mind, I wondered if he had halted it, because of his lust.
“Lady Flarice you can eat the victuals, Smithson has prepared a new flavored soup, and you should enjoy it is created from natural ingredients.”
Releasing her from the restraints and I assisted the Lady Flarice off the flat top, she limped.
The Lady Flarice sat at the table. Smithson brought the soup and he deposited it in front of her the stink was disgusting.
“We will leave you to enjoy the meal.”
“I will not eat it,” she replied.
The birth of Jolenson was difficult and Jolenson was born on a night when blizzards eddied around the hospital. I dialed and I spoke to Elaina.
“Your daughter has been birthed and she is healthy,” Elaina said.
“What color is her hair?”
“The baby has silvery-blonde hair and Jolenson’s skin is almost as white as snow.”
Journeying to see her and she was cuddled into her mother, Elaina was flushed, but calm, she gazed at Jolenson with adoration.
“We cannot tell Rheanna yet,” I said.
“It is a pity we have to tell her at all.”
Elaina clasped the scrap of skin and bones tight and the baby snuffled.
“I will keep Jolenson safe from anyone that might try to harm her.”
As she spoke those words, I deliberated on Smithson, and I imagined him deflowering my noteworthy girl, Smithson would violate Jolenson when she was old enough.
“Our daughter is exquisite,” Elaina said.
Jolenson's silvery-blonde hair surrounded an already sculptured face and she was stunning. The baby sucked her thumb, I remembered the times I had pulled my thumb with my lips in the presence of the Woodlander Warriors and the Archangel, the times I was desolate in the extreme.