The Red Wing Mansion

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Hmmm... you seem to be a man who has travelled the world extensively," I speak and I do so comfortably for once, not a rushed nervous splutter, "Have you travelled far?"

"It feels like many lifetimes," Claudius answers, once again, so cryptically.

"That answer... I don't understand your way with words, but... anyway."

"But what?"

"It's like we've met before, you know?" I say it, the crazy thing. Claudius Fontaine says nothing. So I consider my words carefully, "Earlier today, when you disappeared, was that a prank?"

"I think we've got off on the wrong foot," Claudius drawls over me, while he looks at the road, not at me, "Stop asking questions."

I open my mouth and stare at him, a little shocked, "...why though...? Isn't this a date?"

"Mm... not really," Claudius murmurs quietly, "I changed my mind."

"Then what is this if–?"

"Just dinner," Claudius speaks over me, rudely and forthright, "So no need for so many questions. Or chit chat. I just want company. Okay? Sh, darling."

Um. Wow.

Sh.

"You're very controlling," I speak anyway, "Not a question, Fontaine, that's a statement. You are an enigma. Another statement. Just clarifying."

"You are a brat," Claudius smiles now, and looks at me briefly – his eyes are sharp and humoured... but he's also calculating something else in the back of his mind. I want to speak more but I bite my tongue. Claudius Fontaine finally admits something, "I've waited a little over three centuries to see you again, Alexandra Fontaine."

Hmm.

At first I can't help but rationalise such a statement.

Controlling. Perhaps that meant kinky. Which equalled roleplay. A reference to our former life together? Definitely role play.

I wait, and he explains more, "In that life you were a whore, sleeping around with anyone before I hooked you into a more traditional role as my wife – albeit for a day. In this life, you are a virgin, it's funny how different timelines work... how I remember everything and you don't," Claudius tilts his head as he speaks fluently, with ease, like he's really considered this idea, "It's also strange how I've met you twice, and how you are exactly the same yet entirely different."

I eat all that up, building a narrative in my head for this elaborate role play scenario.

"Hmm, Mrs. Fontaine sounds rather sexy," I whisper, wriggling my butt in the soft seat, which is heated too, "I like this role play, you're rather imaginative, Claudius."

"I see that hasn't changed either," Fontaine smirks to himself, "I'm sorry, darling, but nothing I say is role playing. It's the truth. And it's Fontaine or Sir to you, young miss," I smile the whole time, wondering if this is an inception, a double layer to the role play... until I realise how serious he looks, as he reaches over the dash to my glove box, opens it and a frame slips into view.

I pick it up. What's this?

A marriage certificate.

Alexandra Wraith.

Claudius Fontaine.

The whole thing would be rather strange... if it wasn't for my signature.

...what the actual fuck...

It's exactly my signature and it's not copied. Because at the end of my signature, is a love heart – that I added on, with a flick in the tail, and a shade I added... I had been drawing hearts like this since a kid, but not really recently. So how would he have known to fake that?