Tempest & Temptation

𝔑𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔪𝔢

She peered at his balding, patchy hair, the words coming out before she considered them. "W-Well, what do you want me to say about your balding? At your age, isn't that only a sign of it?"

His face was a fuming puffy red that melted into an unstoppable simmering bath of rage. He nearly choked on his frustrations as he puffed. "There was a bucket of warmed tar seated at the top of my room door, and the moment I went in, I was tarred! Do you know how insulting it is for that woman to treat a man of my expertise and skills---and I'm only 32!"

"Oh..." She deflated with a pained wince. "Alright. Okay." She jittered on her toes. "W-well, if it's any consolation, I couldn't even tell you were 32!" She tried to salvage whatever was left of the losing battle.

"Could never tell?" His face contorted into horror. He was utterly offended at the statement. "I must take my leave, Lady Sutherton!" He whipped away the slamming of his feet and agitated steps were growing in intensity.

"O-oh heaven, oh my." She was tripping over her words. "W-wait, wait! Sir Reynolds!" Her eyes widened. "No, don't take it that way! I meant that in a good way! I know many women who would love to look like you do!" She nervously added with a stretched smile.

He glanced back at her with another deeply insulted look burning into his face. Once more, he picked up speed, his bags flying around.

"That came out wrong! I mean age like you do!" She swallowed again, her smile faltering.

He continued speeding on, anything left in his spilling bags becoming emptier with each stomp.

"Hold on! Wait, wait, wait! Let's talk about this! If you don't want a raise, we can consider other options! We can compensate you! We can get anything you want if you just stay a little longer!"

Her anxious bargains were of no use to him.

"Lady Sutherton, I mean no disrespect to you or the honorable Sutherton family, but that daughter of yours is nothing short of impossible. Her behavior is repugnant! Such unladylike mannerism is devoid of any proper upbringing! Lord Sutherton ought to send that awful incarnate far away lest she insults your family name anymore!" He pushed onwards, leaving a shaken Lady Sutherton behind.

"Sir Reynolds—-!"

BAM!

The doors slammed shut in her face.

For a few moments, she stared at the rich color of the doors, the resounding sound of silence and permeating defeat.

It all dawned on her.

What was seemingly perfect was no longer perfect, and they were, in fact, and indeed, screwed.

Reynolds had just been hired as a temporary caretaker and head butler only a mere few days ago. But with her daughter in the home, she had a hunch that he certainly wouldn't be the last to go.

Swallowing a boulder, she spun on her heels. She hurried through the long, winding corridors and ran to the main house servants' quarters, making a beeline for her daughter. With a flustered frown, she rushed to the room where all the commotion had started.

"Erina!" She almost fell as she skidded on her heels to the doorframe of a wide-open room.

It was Reynold's quarters, and it was once a modest room curated with carefully selected wooden furniture, occasional gold splashes, muted color scheme, and earthy tones. Bookshelves were lined from floor to wall for reading.

Once it was a neat and cozy room meant to be enjoyed. But its present state was an absolute disaster. Patches of oil black waxy blotches stained the carpeted floors leading into the room. Clothes were thrown about the place, and furniture was flipped over damaged, or broken beyond repair. A few maids were on the floor working tirelessly to remove the black stains splattered on the floors and walls before they became permanent.