The Fates

Part XIII: The Fates and Love

I sat in the antechamber with tall, whitish pillars and archaic writing across the walls. The floor was off-white with a large drain in the centre. I had seen it before on Friday, whilst Marcus was lounging in his chair.

Now the three chairs were still present on the dais, but today off to the right where light faintly spilled in from the ceiling was a glass table set with six chairs, out of place in the Roman-type design. It looked like a place fit for gladiator training, in my books.

I sat in the antechamber hugging myself insecurely; where was Marcus. Demetri had just left me here and told me to stay put. The corridors were empty again and so was this round hall.

The golden double doors swung open from one side and I beamed but then I frowned again. Remembering the way, he had shouted at me yesterday.

"Good morning, Makayla." said Marcus with the brightest smile I had ever seen.

"Um, hi."

He sat across from me. Two chairs were beside me and it was the same for, so that we each sat in the middle on different sides.

"Demetri informed me you have not eaten, so I have taken the liberty of asking our personal chef to prepare you breakfast."

My eyes widened.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. My behaviour was atrocious so I would very much like to be in your graces again."

People always assumed food was the way to a man's heart but nothing impressed a woman more than good food...Marcus flashed a bold grin. Good looks weren't shabby either.

However, there is one matter we have yet to settle."

He leaned on the back-rest of the dining chair.

"I was so furious with you because you touched the photo of my deceased lover."

I winced, feeling awful.

"I lost her to some strange intruder who trespassed in our home; that is why apart from tourists we prefer no guests in my home. We cannot bare another family member be lost."

His eyes were haunted and bleak. Tears streaked down my pecan skin. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

"I never recovered."

The air turned icy with that confession. Only my tears and wet sobs filled the eery silence creeping in. Then he exhaled and the air shifted. A scarred smile broke onto his lips.

That was the past, nothing can be done. Refrain from touching that portrait; it is all I have of her."

I wiped my face on a long sleeve of my old hoody.

"Anyhow, I have this one curiosity on my mind. You never did respond if you had a lover at home or not."

Oh, how the mood had shifted in there. From sad to awkward and then something else.

The chef chose that exact moment to cart in with his goodies on a trolley whilst I stared at Marcus with a dumb look on my face.

He was a jolly man with a big fat belly and a goatee, the only facial hair on him.
"Master," he bowed to Marcus before turning to me.

"Buongiorno, madame. Today I have egg muffins, our own Volterra bread and a cup of coffee ground."

A plate was placed in front of me with muffin shaped omelettes with pink and green bits flashing at me. The smell beckoned me to try it.

There were three slices of bread and a slab of butter. Marcus asked me how many lumps I wanted. I looked at him. He held up a teaspoon.

"I mean how many teaspoons of sugar do you want?"

I held up three fingers since I was munching on the egg muffin. It had bacon and chives, so it had a savoury or crisp taste and it was very crunchy in the areas with bacon. He stirred my cup after adding sugar.

I finished my breakfast all the while he watched me. It was odd but I just tried to eat and ignore the stares. After that a guard I recognised came in. He had an oval face and almond eyes and of course a man bun.

"Daisuke call the chef to clear these dishes and bring Benjamin."

The chef cleared the breakfast plates and I thanked him. He went away feeling over the moon. Then a tall, muscular man came in. He was a looker, alright. Dark eyes, a nice clip and white teeth.

He bowed at his employer and awaited instruction.

"Benjamin, I would like to acquaint you with Makayla. Makayla, this is one of our guard; he'll drive you to the airport once further arrangements are made."

"Hi, Benjamin."

"Hey, Makayla. Are you American?"

Was it so obvious? I only said two words to him. He sounded like a typical Italian, but he was looked like me.

It was comforting in a weird way. Maybe I could fit in in Italy after all?
"Yes."

"I was born in America," he informed me quietly.
I bounced in my seat. He was an American!

"Oh, my gosh! Which state are you from?"
"Texas," he said brusquely.

He had a deep voice that lured you in.
"You aren't from Texas." He deduced.

My accent betrayed me.
"I'm not. I'm from Philly."

"Oh, Philadelphia?"
All the while Marcus looked back and forth a bit puzzled.

"What is this Philadelphia?"
Benjamin looked at his master, and away from me.

"This is an American city, with a large percentage of minorities."
I felt disrobed... Did he have to tell him that? Marcus nodded and shook his hand.

I looked the gesture. Benjamin seemed to get it. He bowed.
"It was lovely meeting you, Makayla. I'll see you soon."

Then he was off. Marcus insisted I answer his question. I begrudgingly answered had no one at home, at the moment.

"Maybe it was the Fates' doing you are here now. It may be all in the name of discovering love in unexpected destinations."

I looked at him with a bemused face.
"Why is it you are always talking about the Fates? Do you mean fate, like destiny?"

He told me it was no grammatical error.

"The Fates are the rulers of destiny, man or creature, they spin the web of our lives and determine our life's end. They even decide our life events, lovers and enemies."

I gave him a glare.

"What are those? Goddesses? I don't believe in those."

"I don't believe in anything much else but the Fates because I always see their workings. Maybe one day you will believe too."

"I hope you come to know God is real."

He didn't say anything.