The Fates

Part XI: My Precious

I was more than grateful when Renata left me alone. She comforted me that Marcus would not be long and there were guards surrounding his bedroom, I just had to stay in it! I took that time to examine the portrait.

I took it in my palms and felt the roughened wooden frame, as dark as the burnt-out stubs on the table. She too was painted with red eyes. Hhhmmm, what was this fetishism of red eyes? Was it symbolic of something?

But aside from that one weird detail anyone could she the woman illustrated was beautiful. She looked young too; much younger than what I had initially thought. I could bet my allowance, the little I had, she was fifteen.

"I wonder who you are, but you are beautiful."

A voice came from the absence of sound. I gasped, dropping the frame. In my quest in trying to save it from a nasty dive to the wood below, I grabbed it from the air, managing to kick over the entire table and the black wax stubs scattered here and there.

But the frame nestled in my bosom was safe. I was falling headlong to the panels when cool hands grasped me. I gazed up into shadowed eyes of brown with a glimpse of emotion one could not utter in a single word.

Despair. Flabbergastment. Umbrage.
"What are you doing?" he said resent colouring his tone.

The most emotion he had ever displayed. He sounded like Caius. He didn't sound like the Marcus l had imagined. I shrunk back.

"Marcus?" I said softly.

I was still clutching lamely to his picture frame.
"You had no right to touch it."

He roughly detangled me from his precious picture. He had become a Gollum, holding on to the inanimate in hopes of making it live once more.

"My Didy, precious Didy."

He was kneeling on the floor stroking the picture with trembling fingers. I was on the floor too, too frightened, too baffled to look away.

"Marcus," I said in a sadder note.

His head snapped to me. And I gulped. Melancholy had bled into malevolent rage.

"Get out." He hissed out.

"Marc..." I said in an attempt to coax him out of this madness.

"I SAID GET OUT!"

I scuttled up and I ran.

"Hey!" I said as a tourist bumped into me before walking skewedly to the bar. She looks like she's had too much wine! I was walking aimlessly.

Did I just get myself kicked out? How could he blow up like that at me? It's not like l knew not to touch his precious painting. Then I felt a pang of guilt. Renata told me not touch it.

Was it a picture of his late relative? A sister? Maybe it's all he had left...and I almost destroyed it. Great, the first friend and I lost him over a picture... I was too scared to go back inside his home, fearing he too had been added to the populace that didn't want me there.

But I needed to get my luggage. I couldn't stay but maybe l could soften him tomorrow. I made a motion to call by withdrawing my phone but I realised I stupidly left it in my bag, in Marcus' room.

I couldn't make arrangements to quietly depart. My stomach growled adding injury to the insult. I sighed. I had to face him sooner or later. And now seemed like the time to do it.

"I thought I told you to go away from here." Marcus said icily.

Tears pricked at my eyes but I held them. He was kneeling as if in prayer, to his portrait.

"I'm just getting my bags."

"Get going then." He said.

I was getting annoyed.

"Can you just grow up? I made a mistake, yes, but unknowingly! That's just a picture; I don't know if it's someone important you lost...or some creepy shrine to a girl who's never looked at you in a day, but getting worked up like this, isn't going to make them anymore real."

He frowned but stayed with his frame. I shrugged up my bag pack and took my carry on by the handles and lifted it. As I neared the doorway, I turned to look at him one last time and thawed.

"I'm so sorry."

I wasn't sorry about the frame I nearly broke but the grief it represented for such a young man. Maybe that's why he never smiled...

I met Demetri in the hallways he was chatting with two frantic looking men.

"Have you ever seen the Master that angry?" one asked.

Demetri's brows were quirked. He turned as I started moving again. He excused himself and came to speak with me.

"Where are you going with these bags?"

"I think I've overstayed my welcome. We'll talk about reimbursing the money spent on me tomorrow."

He stood, aghast.

"But the Master said you would only leave tomorrow."

Well, he just changed his mind.
"Come on, I'll explain on the way."
He frowned but tailed me.

"Do you not think you are overreacting, packing and leaving?"

It was almost five p.m. and we were nearing the inn in Sienna.

"I was already packed anyway and tell me what get out and go away means anyway?"

Demetri sighed.

"l guess that can't be misinterpreted, but maybe he only meant from his room?"

I glowered at him.

"I really don't think so. And I'm not going to go suck up to him for a place to stay where I'm not wanted, when I have other options. Who does he think he is talking to me like that when it was a mistake?"

"Even so, you were warned. That portrait is important to him."

I rolled my eyes.

"Barely, you and RENATA are neglecting to mention why."

"It's not my place to tell you."

"Then it's not in my power to do anything you ask."

Demetri adjusted the mirrors.

"I know. But don't judge him too harshly; he's been through a lot. But since there was a misunderstanding between you and him; I will set a meeting for you and your agent. I hope she reimburses you so you can go home."

I was hit by the weight of the day. Me too; my brother must be so worried.

Demetri promised to do everything in his power for me to get home. I must have said that out loud. He stopped by the pale yellow two storey house with creepers running along the length of it.

"Have a good night. Remember six a.m. sharp, be ready." I nodded, exhausted.