Tainted.

[5] A Pleasant Familiarity.

Chapter 4

“Would you like some more soup, Aleda?” A rather young looking girl asked me quietly. She placed a large platter of chicken in between Adhemar and I. I shook my head, adjusting my emerald dress around the red velvet chair.

 In spite of all Adhemar has done, and as I’m sure shall continue doing, he invited me down for dinner. A lavish dinner, although only for two, on a long mahogany table, right alongside a flickering fireplace. The setting was utterly repulsive and Adhemar’s face itself was a hideous mess.

“Celine, Aleda is a part of this household now and therefore she will be treated as such. How does calling her Madame sound? Or better yet, my lady.” He began, trying to hide the merciless force of his voice in my presence, and smiling as if giving me a second name was flattering or something.

 Boy was he wrong.

 By this time I knew what was real and what wasn’t; and at the moment, his actions were all lies. Heck, his whole being was a big, fat, useless lie!

The girl, apparently one of his many servants, adjusted her gold colored hair, straightened her dress, opened her mouth with a comment but eventually gave up on voicing her opinion, walking away with her head hung miserably low.

In fear or humility, I couldn’t tell.

“So, Aleda, tell me about yourself.” Adhemar interrupted my thoughts suddenly, his pointlessly expensive silverware clanging against the porcelain plate. I shuddered at the sound, remembering the clanging of other silver things. Sharp, silver things, I might add.

Unconsciously, I started running my fingers over the places my scars would’ve been. (Faeries don’t get scars; they are self-healing. But the pain inflicted where the scar could have been still exists and lasts longer than a human’s pain.)

One, two, three.

 My shoulder blade, right next to my wings. My wrist. My forearm. My thigh.

I could continue on for a while but I quickly realized that Adhemar was patiently (NOT.) waiting for an answer across from me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him; couldn’t raise my head an inch. I just kept staring at my pale arms laid out in front of me.

A cold shiver abruptly electrified my arm and I realized that Adhemar had grabbed my wrist. “Aleda, tell me. Tell me of your secrets; I want to hear more about you!”

His voice was filled with frantic urgency only a maniac could possess and I was frozen in a boggling sea storm of intimaidated and angry emotions. Not a flicker of mercy shone in his eyes. After he used me as an ‘experiment’. After he violated me. After he boxed me around like some sort of waste, he expected me to tell him about myself!? He expected me to respond to his expectations?

The dining room door opened without warning with a loud squeak and a tall boy walked in wearing a white apron and carrying a platter of fruit. Adhemar quickly let go of my wrist and picked up his napkin.

“How dare you enter without even the slightest knock!”

 I stared at him in disgust, my composure returning and remembering that I was supposed to play nice. Deep inside I was reveling in the joy that this boy has interrupted our dinner along with Adhemar’s lurid, plague-of-a-mind; even a minute with him scares me.

My head whipped around in my haste and nervousness just as the boy began to place the platter in center of the table and to my clumsy luck, I smacked right into his elbow, sending the fruit tumbling to the floor.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to! Here, let me help you with that.” I stumbled over my words.

This place was a dull hell-hole with Adhemar and his lab-minions in it, but I couldn’t help but sympathize with the servants. By the look of their ashen faces, anyone could understand that their labor for Adhemar was forced and not even in the least, anticipated.

I began to place the vibrant grape vines back onto the tray when the boy gently held my hand and pulled it back, returning the grapes himself and reassuring me with exaggerated gestures, like pulling out my chair, to sit back down.

Unfortunately that didn’t end well since, as I began descending into my velvet chair, he moved it back a bit more than intended and I fell flat on my butt!

“Peter! You clumsy good-for-nothing coward! Don’t look at her! Keep your eyes down.” Adhemar jolted from his seat, pointing towards the door, as I rose from the floor casually, stifling my laughter.

Peter quickly retrieved the rest of the freshly cut fruits from the ground. “And I want you to personally cut another whole batch of fruits! I don’t care for you to wash these.” He said gesturing at the fruits that fell to the ground. My subtle laughter instantly faded and my hatred for Adhemar’s sadistic cruelty grew even more. “Nor, do I want you to eat them yourself. You shall go throw them away this instant. I want new ones!” Peter nodded slightly, flashing his slow-motion-worthy-of-floating-and-halo-music eyes at me before pushing the wide doors open and leaving.

My penumbra panged in my chest for a while and I swallowed, drowning out Adhemar’s degrading, incessant words in the background.

I knew him.

Peter. I knew him, I knew him.

Could he have been the same Peter from exactly a year ago? My Peter?

Could it have been him? Of course it was, I mentally slapped myself, surprised that I hadn’t noticed the familiarity of his steady walk earlier.

His gray-blue eyes, how they flickered fantastically when he spoke, his gentle yet strong nature, his voice-

But, where was his voice?? Had they tortured him into the state of muteness?  Troubled curiosity enveloped me and I wanted to know everything. I wanted us to build things together again; to hunt together; to paint together. Memories came rushing back and…

I missed him.

The doors opened once more and he staggered in, head hung low also, indeed setting a new plate of fruits in between us. Adhemar gave him a look of disgust and I just stared in awe. It really was him! I was sure of it. Peter tried to act as though he didn’t notice me as he walked away. Yet I knew him enough to detect the faintest wild widening of his eyes as his head reeled with thoughts. For a mere moment, my emotions failed me and I smiled outrageously.

“So, I see you take a keen interest in fruits… or otherwise.” Adhemar said sarcastically, angry that I had genuinely smiled for a servant and not for his pitiful face.

I knew he was unto us, but I had to understand what Peter was doing here and why. I had thought he had left me for a long while; a year almost.

Adhemar, obviously melting in jealousy, slammed his napkin unto the table and rose quickly. “Aleda, let’s take a walk.” He said slyly, a coy smile painted across his face.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.