Espera | R. Grayson ✔

[12]

He looked up at her, unable to fathom what she was going to do, but nodded his head, "I promise."

"The tea, Richard, don't let it go to waste," she had patted his shoulder gently but stood there, waiting for him to finish the tea.

He found it odd but didn't question it. Lavina Vikander was the only person he could blindly trust and had been doing so ever since he had met her.

Even though he knew the woman was a coalesce of secrets, there was something in her that made him trust her without question.

Little did he know that blind trust would eventually become his downfall.

***

He followed her down the vast halls of her mansion until they reached a colossal door. She took a key and turned it in the lock, pushing the door open to what seemed to be an enormous gallery.

Portraits, sculptures, frescoes and murals decorated the place and it seemed as if Richard had stepped into a museum right then and there. He looked around in awe at the collection of historical art and valuables displayed in the gallery.

"Miss Vikander, this is magnificent," he exclaimed as he couldn't decide where to look as all the art pieces were rather captivating.

"I thought you would say that," she smiled softly, "come, what I have to show you lies at the very end."

He followed her to the very end where black silk curtains hid a mural. She parted those curtains and a mysterious painting swirled into view.

It included people shrouded in black, all looking as if they belonged to notable and wealthy families, yet gathered together in what seemed like a cult like meeting. White feathers were painted here and there over the mural and though Richard was no expert in guessing bird plumage, the sharp eyes that stared down from the very top of the mural looked a lot like those of an owl.

Piercing and dark. Intimidating yet wise.

He turned to see Lavina Vikander as if asking for an explanation but it was then he noticed how much those eyes in the mural resembled her irises. And when he looked back at the painting, he could clearly spot another man that held the same piercing irises.

"Miss Vikander, is this a family portrait?" He asked carefully, seeing that the expression on her face was unfathomable as usual.

"Not exactly," she replied, "but yes, that man you were looking at so intently is my grandfather."

"Then what exactly is this painting?"

"This is a mural of the founding families of Gotham," she resumed pointing out to the different people one by one, "the Vikanders, my family, and then the Kanes, the Burkes, the Waynes, the Linseeds and the Hills."

He looked at the faces carefully, "and you have brought to me to see this because...?"

"Because you have taken a vow to protect the city these families founded. It is imperative you get to know them and their motives first."

He turned towards her, a slightly confused expression on his face, "I don't understand."

"When you left me and I had told you to return when you find the reason to your existence, I already had a task for you in mind," she spoke up though by every word she uttered, the questions in his head increased, "I let you go because I was confident that you would return but not have a specific decision worked out for yourself. I had planned to put that task before you then and offer you to accept it."

"What task?"

"But now, you have chosen a different path altogether," she released the curtains and the mural was concealed from view again, "and I am willing to give you time to see if it works. However, I need you to promise me that if it doesn't go as you want it to, you will take up my offer."

He shook his head, feeling an odd dizziness take over him, "I have so many questions... What is this task? Why are you not telling me...?"

He blinked twice, feeling her hands on his shoulders but darkness was clouding his vision.

"Sit down, Richard."

And in that moment he realized that tea she had given him was drugged and the realization sparked him up as he refused to let her make him sit down, "what did you put in the tea?"

"Nothing, dear, sit down please..."

"What the hell did you drug me with?" His voice rose but it shook violently and he felt the dizziness overpower him, "was it poison? Are you going to kill me? What was in the damned tea you..."

She sighed softly, dark eyes almost sad as she reached out to steady him, "my dear boy, I would never even think of hurting you."

"Lies..." He stumbled as he tried to get away from her but knocked down a sculpture in doing so, going down with it as well since it was getting hard to stand up even.

Exhaustion and drowsiness was spreading over his senses, numbing him to the pain but the intense helplessness that had captured him was making him feel outraged.

But there was nothing he could do as his eyes were drooping shut and he felt her cold hand rest gently on his forehead as she closed his eyes.

"I am sorry, Richard, but believe me; I am doing this for your own benefit."

***