Chapter 13

99 26 21
                                    

~Vesper~

(A/N: Listen to music by Joao Gilberto and Gal Costa when you see the three stars. Enjoy! :))

Can anyone of you volunteer to pinch me right now? I'm in dire need of it.

La Grande Rosa Bianca is hard to describe in words. Beautiful doesn't cover it completely. Neither does magnificent or huge; but white?

Says it all.

Why couldn't this be the flower that grows on the bushes at home? (Yes, I have rose bushes at home. When the zombie apocalypse comes, my mom shall welcome them with open arms while I get the weed killer.)

I had gotten myself in a tour led by the eccentric Circe. I gratefully thank her because I would have still been outside if she didn't have the strength to tow me about. My legs and eye were frozen the whole time with each room they're in. I've seen the great foyer, the gallery hall, the drawing room, the bathrooms, the cinema room, the study and library, the kitchen, the kitchen's greenhouse, the garden, the foot-print like pool, the gazebo on higher ground and the fire-pit in another pool. And that's just down stairs.

Desperately. Need. That. Pinch. I already asked one of the maids passing by and she just looked at me confused and spoke some gibberish. I'm guessing English isn't her first language.

The Grey's don't really have much servants. There's just the balding gardener with his young assistant, the chef with her two assistants, five young maids and Talon and Circe's caregiver, who stands before me.

"Hello! I'm Ms Papademitrou," says the lady before me. She appears to be in her late fifties with a round face and a rosy smile. I outstretch my hand but she looks at it with distaste and bear- hugs me instead. "I know; my name is complicated so you can just call me Darci or Papa. I heard a lot of things about you, Vesper."

I glance back at Circe who is stuffing her face with cinnamon rolls. Where did she get those? I smile back. "Good things I hope."

"Of course! I also know that you are quite an artist. I'm assuming that you are here to paint Circe's ceiling. I won't keep you any longer." She turns back to Circe. "Circe go and carry Vesper to your room! Because of you, poor Babette and I have to make a new batch of cinnamon rolls for dinner!"

"But I'm hungry! I'm growing, you know!"

"That is not an excuse to leave only crumbs on the platter! Vesper, I'll send two up for you while you're painting. Work goes with an appetite."

"What about me?!" Circe pouts.

"What about you?" Darci looks scoldingly at her. "There were like ten on that platter! Now there is none! This, my dear girl, is the amount you shall get for dessert; NONE. It is amazing how you don't get a lump of fat anywhere!" Darci then leaves, leaving me with a sulking Circe.

"What are you laughing at?" Circe scowls, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I giggle, "Just that Darci seems like a good motherly figure."

A flash of pain flits through her eyes but she relapses into an easy grin. "That she is...But she doesn't know me."

"How come?"

A crafty grin snakes it's way unto her face. "Darci is gonna mysteriously find half of the batch gone."

Godspeed Circe. Godspeed.

***

I didn't know that Circe and Talon were rich. I didn't know they had a mansion and a limo. I didn't even know that Circe loved her cinnamon rolls.But I wish I knew this.

Unorthodox (BOOK 1)Where stories live. Discover now