Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXXXIII - Punishment

All I got for a reply was a timid nod. And then, she was gone.

I waited until Vince was fast asleep before I gently pried his fingers from my wrist. He tossed and turned as I took off his jacket, waistcoat and loafers.

I was relieved to find some change of clothes in the wardrobe—a cotton long-sleeved nightgown, one your average grandma would wear. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tweaked Vincent's hair from his eyes. In the flickering dim light, his face was both peaceful and troubled. For some reason, I felt excited and terrified, happy yet so lost at the same time.

I woke up curled beside Vincent. It was warm. Safe. But it frightened me. I changed a lot. I learned to trust him, depend on him, be with him; perhaps a bit too much. Sometimes, it got me thinking if I was still me.

Soft knocks interrupted my thoughts. Hurriedly, I shuffled toward the door and opened it to see Sharifa. Her dainty feet were still bare against the cold floor. She was carrying a neatly folded dress in her petite arms.

"The Grandmaster wishes to see you..." she said, peeking through the gap to see Vincent still sound asleep. "Alone." She handed me the blue-black frock.

"I..." I glanced back at Vincent. He showed no signs of waking up. "I understand."

Sharifa stood aside, facing the wall near the doorframe. "I shall wait."

I closed the door and took a deep breath. Should I wake Vincent up?

My whole body shook as I splashed lukewarm water onto my face. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. The unconquerable look in my eyes was gone. I took all the time in the world changing my clothes and brushing my hair until I couldn't bear prolonging my agony anymore.

Whispering a silent prayer, I stepped out of the room.

"I'm ready," I said to Sharifa, quietly closing the door behind me after seeing that my master still hadn't come to.

Without a word, she ushered me back to the corridors, heading to another flight of stairs. As we moved along, I gazed through the series of arched windows. The sky hadn't changed its midnight hue though I was sure several hours had passed.

Glitches came and passed, drifting like red lanterns over the lake, across the maze-like landscape, through the windows and inside the castle. Some of them were so close I could almost reach them. Fireflies flitted around us, illuminating our path.

When Sharifa saw me looking at the sky, she halted. "It's always night in this realm; without the moon or the stars. Flowers bloom everywhere without being tended to. The forest lives on its own. Except for the grand hall, the only source of light here is the fireflies—just like Lady Roselle envisioned," Sharifa said wistfully.

"She must have been very happy to see this," I replied. "I know I would."

Gently, she shook her head. "The Halo was created after the Mistress' death. The Grandmaster did this to honor her. This entire place is a fantasy turned into reality. Many centuries had past but her memory lingers here timelessly."

"That's sad," I mumbled absently as I followed her to a narrow hallway toward a wrought bronze spiral staircase.

"Perhaps," Sharifa replied sourly. "But rules are rules. Though he loved them all so... your master's mother, my own mother—all of the women who bore his children. The Grand Master could not make them immortal, like us."

"Why not?"

As if startled, the Indian lady fumbled with her colorfully printed skirt. Her tanned face turned pale all of a sudden.