The broken pocket watch spooled another mournful thread of beautiful music.
Tick.
He wound up the broken watch. 'Lacie,' Oz murmured. He took his place at the table, Break on his right. The white haired man was calmly watching a blackbird with metallic green in its feathers waltzing atop a red wallbox in the garden, its claws clicking on the metal surface. Alice gave a friendly smile and went back to munching on her meat.
Break poured some tea, a gentle clink of porcelain knocking against a cup, if a little sloppily. He was as cheery as ever, particularly when Sharon arrived in a horsedrawn carriage which parked itself on the dusty edge of the estate.
'Break, you're alive!' She crooned with joy and skipped over to Xerxes, squeezing him in such an affectionate and tight hug that even he winced slightly. He bore it all, they'd been separated since Sharon had led the rescue party and been the key instigator of negotiations between the Baskervilles and Pandora.
'Hello, Master Oz. Long time no see.' The bespectacled Reim followed closely behind, Gil, flouting his habit of adjusting his glasses and tripped over his feet in awkward introductions and wrung his hands with an apology for being late.
'Nice to see you!' Oz grinned evilly at Reim. 'Since we're all back together again and that annoying master of yours isn't here, let's sit down and tell some horror stories.' He said with some much needed levity.
Reim shrunk back, but Break burst out laughing at the suggestion. 'Reim, pull up another chair before you trip yourself up with niceties.' He tapped one spoon against his tea cup and with a flourish emptied a generous amount of honey into his already over sweetened tea. 'How's things with bird brain?'
'He's not pleased.' Reim rattled off a list of minor issues. 'Also, I think he's worried that Pandora will find out that he's responsible for Sheryl's injuries and execute him.'
Well, that was hardly a secret, was it? For the grief the man had caused poor Sheryl and the rest of the Rainsworth household, Break was tempted to risk the Baskerville's wrath and finish the man. Only the fear of another political vacuum like the Nightray's, kept him in his place and the fear of a bitter civil war waged between the minor houses kept him in place. Even if the Baskervilles and Pandora now worked towards a common goal – to stop the return of Jack Vessalius' soul and obtain the Intention of the Abyss –it would undoubtedly end badly.
Not that he would ever tell poor Reim. His friend didn't deserve the grief of having divided loyalties. No, the Duke was Break's responsibility alone and he'd shoulder the burden himself.
'Ah well, at least this time you didn't fetch him blooming tea instead of Earl Grey, isn't it?' Break smiled, knuckles knocking against his glass.
Reim sent him a glare, but visibly lightened. Before Break could conduct another investigation into Barma's drinking preferences, he blurted, 'How are your eyes?'
That sent Break's brows furrowing down. 'Fine, fine, great, fine.' He said and fished out a napkin.
In Break-speak, that meant worse. Reim had dug up some of Barma's medical texts and found a reference to blindness which perfectly matched Break's condition. Macular degeneration, it was apparently called. He'd felt slightly queasy reading through all the cases and symptoms. No recovery, the phrase had jumped out. Incurable.
He gazed at his friend who was chatting to Oz, wondering what the ultimate effect of two contracts would be. Would his friend go mad? Would he die first? Reim shook out his head. It was no use thinking such thoughts, he told himself. Negativity would not benefit himself nor Break.
'The fourth seal has been broken,' Break was saying as he speared another piece of cake onto one end of a fork, waving it like a conductor's baton.
'So we have no idea when and if Jack will resurface.' Reim told Oz.