You all say such sweet things about this fic. Thank you. :)
By the way, I don't see this going beyond 20 chapters. I thought the shippyness would be stronger in this chapter, but I don't think that's going to really get moving until the chapter after this. This chapter is still pretty platonic, and the next one is as well.
Pandora, Sharon has been told, is an organization devoted to justice. They are the ones who make sure others obey the law. The Rainsworth family, as one of the four great dukedoms, has close ties with Pandora, and it's not unheard of for valets to work for both.
And so, Sharon isn't surprised when she learns that Break now works for Pandora as well. In fact, as the weeks-then months-pass, she's torn between a sincere admiration for her Xerx-nii's work for justice, and disappointment that he doesn't join her as often in the garden as he once did.
Her mother does, on occasion. But she looks wan, as if her life is almost spent. And yet, she smiles in spite of it. And so Sharon, who must become a Rainsworth woman someday, tries to smile as well, no matter how difficult.
But she is eleven today. And a child can only take so much.
The whole house throws a birthday party for her. Xerx-nii is not there. Tears splash down on her cake, and the servants fuss over her, saying she must be very tired. They shoo her to bed.
Moonlight streams through her window, a blue-white beam glowing on the floor. Quietly, tears still running down her cheeks, she goes to the shelf where Evelyn sits. Emily now rides on her Xerx-nii's shoulder.
She rarely speaks with Evelyn anymore. It's begun to feel childish. And yet, in spite of her growing body, she wants to be childish, just for now.
"He's not your big brother," Evelyn whispers. "Not really."
"I know," she whispers back. "Do you miss Emily?"
"Yes," comes the soft reply. "But I am glad she keeps him safe."
Sharon laughs at that, knowing it's the other way around. Drying her eyes, she hears the sound of heavy footsteps, and the sound of men speaking, one of them familiar. "Xerx-nii?"
Dropping Evelyn, she races to her door and quietly opens it a crack.
"Good night, then," Break says. He sounds very tired. When he passes by her room, he's already taking off his coat with exhausted movements.
He cut his hair, she realizes. He cut it!
Unable to see him anymore, she hears him walk down to his room. Tears threaten to spill over the edges of her eyes once more when he passes by her room without stopping to check on her.
He probably thought I was asleep, she tells herself. But the pain she feels at his absence is too sharp for reason. He is changing yet again and leaving her behind. Pain turns to anger and she grabs Evelyn, flings open her door, and charges down to Break's room.
Her anger fades when she gets to her door. He might be dressing, she thinks. She knocks softly.
"It's me," she says, her voice sounding very small in the large hall.
"I'm getting dressed." Something is wrong with her Xerx-nii's voice. It sounds hurried. No. He's hiding something. "Just a moment."
She waits, holding on to Evelyn, trying to think of what her Xerx-nii might want to hide. When he opens the door, she becomes even more puzzled. He is wearing only a shirt and pants. His boots are untied and his short, white hair is disheveled.
It's one thing to see his short hair in passing, another to see it close-up. Eyes wide, she says, "You cut your hair."
He freezes, then laughs. "Come in, milady." He opens the door and lights a lamp.
"Why did you cut it?" she demands. "It looked good when it was long."
"I cut it because it makes it makes my life easier. Now," he puts the candle on a small table and sits in a chair against the wall, chin resting on his hand, "why are you still up?"
"Why are you?" she counters, and stands in front of him.
"Because I wish it."
"That is my reason as well."
He smiles, and her heart beats faster. And then his smile fades. He closes his eye, as if in pain. "Of course. Forgive me."
She shrugs. "You work for Pandora. It can't be helped."
His eye opens, and he gives her a sheepish grin. "Many happy returns of the day." He takes her hand and kisses it, as any knight would. But his formal gestures now aren't empty as they were when he first appeared.
A blush spreads across her cheeks.
He lets her hand go. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Join me for lunch tomorrow."
He hesitates. "I'm afraid I-"
"Cannot. Of course not."
"Are you angry?"
Of course I'm angry, she wants to shout. Their time together has become increasingly short. "Not at all."
"She's furious," Emily says. Sharon whips around to see that Break has placed her on the nightstand, next to his bed. "And she misses you, dreadfully."
"Do you?" Break asks.
Sharon says nothing. "She's trying very hard to be a Rainsworth woman," Evelyn finally says, when it becomes clear that Sharon will not say anything.
"She does very well," Break says.
"Too well," Emily snorts. "No one is going to notice her if she's nice all the time."
"Perhaps she doesn't want to be noticed," Break says.
Emily continues, as if he hasn't spoken. "And being nice means the other dukedoms will take advantage of her."
"But," Evelyn adds, "that could be very useful. They wouldn't expect someone who is nice to also be strong."
Break pauses. The slow smile that spreads across his face is one of admiration. "Very true, Evelyn." But he's looking at Sharon.
"But that doesn't mean she's stopped being a whingy brat," Emily sneers.
Sharon's eyes go wide, and she throws a nearby pillow at Break. Face full of mock incredulity, he points at Emily. "She said it!"
"But you encourage her," Evelyn says. "Who knows what kind of things you're saying to her when you two are off on your adventures together?"
"Nothing against you, milady." And the words are so sincere that Sharon's anger melts away.
Tears come to her eyes. "I've missed you," she says, her words a faint echo in the stillness of the room.
"Come here." He leans forward, and she rushes forward to hold him. Even after all this time, he doesn't hold her in return. He tolerates me, she thinks. But it's difficult to believe that when she finally pulls away and she sees him looking at her with warm affection.
"Now," he says, "I shall escort you back to your nursery."
"Bedroom," she corrects him, but he doesn't seem to hear her.
"How is your sewing coming along?"
They walk back to her room, voices soft. "Well enough. Why?"
"I must make up for my lack of a gift somehow."
She laughs. "By having me make something for you?"
"Oh, but it gives you such pleasure to give to others." The mischievous sparkle in his eye enchants her.
"What do you need?"
As they walk, he describes it: a white coat that doesn't cover his shoulders. It's held up by black straps and the sleeves cover his hands. "Why would you want that?"
He opens the door to her room. "To keep my hands clean, of course."
He doesn't close the door behind them. It's left wide open. He doesn't leave, but sits down on the floor instead. "Would you like me to draw you a picture?"
"You have no talent in the arts," she says with mock arrogance. Getting out her pencils and paper, she sits in the moonlight beam that stretches across the floor.
He chuckles. "Neither do you."
She sticks out her tongue and they both smile. Her talent isn't great, but it is serviceable enough to sketch an image of what he wants. She even adds Emily to his shoulder.
And yet, she decides, he still looks dashing. Like a knight.
He corrects her image here and there, and she adds embellishments to his vision (like black trim along the front) that he enjoys. By the time they're in agreement, she's realized this is his gift to her: his time.
She closes her eyes, enjoying the moonlight and sketching and Xerx-nii's presence. It's a wonderful present. I have to be near him, she thinks. It's always been like this. Her voice is dreamy and soft when she speaks. "I shall join you at Pandora someday."
She opens her eyes and is surprised that he looks sad. "Yes. Someday. But that day is far off, milady. And now," he gets up from the floor, "it's time for children to go to bed."
Glaring at him, she picks up her pencils. "One day soon, I won't be considered a child anymore."
"Of course you will," he says, and leaves before she can throw another pillow at him.
.
.
.
Kevin shuts the door to his room, leans his back against it briefly, then grabs the pile of clothes hiding under the bed. Lady Sharon almost saw it. He thought she'd still be asleep.
Not that he minded the time spent discussing his new coat. It was fun, and he missed her. It also got his mind off work, the part of him trying to be selfish adds.
From the pile he carefully takes out a white shirt. On the front is a small drop of blood. His.
This is my atonement, he tells himself.
But Sharon, with her sharp eyes, wouldn't understand. She'd worry if she saw this, he thinks, and so he dips the bloodied spot in a small bit of water in the wash basin. Not that it matters.
His body is breaking down. By the time she's old enough to join Pandora, he might be dead. "Good riddance," he whispers, then squeezes his eyes shut.
I don't serve to help them he tells himself. I use them to find what I'm searching for. They're useful. Even the young one.
But that thought brings him pain, so he focuses on washing out the blood from his shirt, something he would have done earlier if Lady Sharon hadn't interrupted.
I am selfish, he tells himself. Even with her, I'm selfish.
He's glad for the blood.
Still, all that night, he can't sleep, torn between relief that his life will not go on forever, and grief that it may end all too soon.
