A/N: For once, I have nothing to say o.o
CHAPTER NINE
Dante's finger slowly tapped itself on the window as she stood there, still in her night dress, looking out into the yard. The various flowers and bushes were laden down with water from the previous storm and it seemed as though the trees had also suffered harsh treatment from the weather. Still, the sun rose to a clear sky, spreading its pale golden light across the earth and setting everything it touched ablaze with the glow. Such a warm sight it seemed, yet Dante looked upon it with her freezing eyes. She had no room in her heart to allow such beauty to sink in. At least, not at the moment anyway.
"Forgive me, my lady," her maid apologized for what felt like the hundredth time. She was new to their household, and because of her brazen knowledge of how things worked, she was extremely nervous. Today this attitude had cost Dante her breakfast tea as well as the use of her bed. The maid, in a rush to please her mistress, stumbled and knocked the tea all over the bed. Now she was hastily gathering the dirty sheets together to wash, face tinged pink from embarrassment.
"Never mind, just get it cleaned!" Dante snapped, tearing away from the window to get dressed. "After you clean that mess up, take those sheets down to the laundry room and have Mrs. Miren wash them up. Then I want you to go down to the library, second floor, first hallway and down to your left. Clean it up, the layer of dust must be an inch thick..." As she relayed these orders to the frantic young maid, Dante coolly dressed herself. She was a shrewd young woman perfectly capable of calmly ordering others around and all the while taking care of herself.
"Something needs to be done about Bernadette's nerves," Dante announced as she arrived in the dining hall and seated herself across from her mother and father.
"What happened?" her mother asked sharply. For a moment, Dante paused and assessed the situation. True, Bernadette had given her morning an annoying turn, but no one deserved the wrath that her mother could dish out.
"Nothing at all," was the cool reply "she just seems very nervous, and if it keeps up who knows what episodes could befall. I propose one of the elder servants takes her under their wing until she gets used to things around here."
"As you wish, daughter, I will talk to someone immediately," said her father. Dante sighed and turned away from the table. Bernadette, you had better be grateful for this, was all that ran through her thoughts.
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Worn by pain and fatigue, Anthony finally stumbled into the gate on Hohenheim's property. Grasping the worn iron for support, he gazed into the large estate before him. Just by looking at it he could already tell that there was little or no chance of him getting into the place unseen. However, having previous experience with things like this, he was now rather practiced at being unobtrusive. After examining every inch of what he was up against, a plan began to shape in his mind. He took a moment to relay it over and over in his head then without hesitation climbed carefully up the fence. It wasn't until he jumped to the ground and felt a searing pain that he remembered his injured leg. Swearing quietly to himself, he then darted half limping across the lawn and to the first tree he saw. From there, he would make his way carefully to the gardens and then somehow find a way into the house.
Hohenheim scratched out his last sentence with a quill then wrote a more accurate one in its place. He still could not believe how much information he was obtaining from this book. All these years of wondering and educated guesses when the answers were only down the lane in an aged library. Still not pleased with what he had written, he hastily scratched at the parchment once more. He was about to write more when he realized that he was out of room on the parchment. Groaning, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had been writing for nearly two hours, and was so stiff that he dreaded the thought of walking all the way upstairs for more parchment. Deciding he'd done enough, his hands folded a page of the book down then snapped it shut.
"Break time," he announced to no one in particular as he stood up and stretched. By now the beautiful morning he had been blessed with was starting to turn into a day humid from the rain. Just as he was about to go inside for more parchment, a movement out of the corner of his eye froze him in his place. Hohenheim was by no means a cowardly man, but animals in the garden peeved him for some reason, especially the raccoons. He had been unfortunate as a boy to get on the bad side of a passing raccoon, and the thing had hissed menacingly at him until he darted inside. Since then, he had always despised the little beasts, and was prone to grabbing the nearest heavy object and pelting it at the creature. On this occasion, the nearest thing he could find was the book, and so he would have to settle for it. Upon turned in the direction he saw it, he found himself looking across at a slender man gesturing to him.
"Hohenheim!" came the notorious shrill call of his mother. The man heard it too and looked questioningly at Hohenheim.
It should be known that when put under pressure his vocabulary went wild in a sense and picked out a random word for the situation. In this case, the first word that came into his head was what he decided to shout out to the man. "Rendezvous! Rendezvous!"
"Pardon?" the man asked, being unfamiliar with the word.
Hohenheim nearly hit himself in the head for such a poor word choice. He forced his brain to come up with something better while pointing urgently to the large bush a few feet away from the man. "Congregate! Assemble! Converge! Meet up!" Finally, the man nodded in understanding and darted behind it just as Hohenheim's parents walked out onto the veranda.
"What on earth were you babbling about, boy?" his father demanded sharply.
"I had a bad cough," he answered, cursing himself inwardly for the extreme stupidity of this statement.
"We have come to inform you that Lady Dante and her parents will be arriving shortly, that is all," his mother explained before turning up her nose and strutting back into the house with her husband. Hohenheim glared after them, wishing he had any parents but those two monsters. He waited until they were safely out of sight before walking over to the bush.
"Forgive me for my poor communication," he said to the man with a small bow of his head.
"Never mind, never mind," the man shook his head repeatedly and grasped Hohenheim's hands. "Hohenheim Avaris, my lord, at last we meet!"
A/N: Please review!
