WHAT DOES THE TITLE MEAN?!?!

Chapter Nine

Painting

DPOV

"Young master," a butler called to me. Technically, I was not their young master, my brother was but they just kept their good old title for me. I did not like to be called young master. It was completely revolting for me.

"I told you to call me by name," I mumbled, not looking up from the book that I was reading.

"I'm sorry to upset you, Sir Dimitri, but we have a visitor waiting for you downstairs." Well, that was the best I could let them call me. I didn't mind if they'd call me Mister Belikov because it wasn't that bad as the one mentioned before.

I closed my book reluctantly and looked up at the butler.

"Lady Elena Basescu awaits your presence," he said in a cryptic tone that was normal for him.

I didn't really know who this woman he was talking about but from her name and title, she was a sure royal. First off, I wasn't a huge fan of royals. Especially girls. Not that I have any personal antagonism towards them but… there was just something inside me that tends to jump uncomfortably whenever some are around. Women in general, I mean. Not only Moroi. Too bad the feeling wasn't mutual though.

Too many Moroi girls have been in this palace to visit me. This wasn't really their real intention. Visiting me, I mean. By the end of our conversation, I always get offers to be a guardian for them. Amongst other things.

Irritated, I stood up and dropped my book on the chair. I didn't wait for the butler to tell me where the girl was, I was already sure that she'd be waiting at the garden room downstairs with a cup of tea. That was always what they did.

By the time I rounded up the corner of the garden room, I caught a scent of orange blossoms with a hint of jasmine. Typical royal Moroi scents.

As I entered the garden room, I could say that I was surprised. I didn't know why I was surprised to see the Moroi sitting there. Maybe I had been expecting a blonde with the perpetual pair of blue eyes? Or a redhead with green eyes? But no, this one caught me a little off guard.

Her hair was a lustrous mahogany and I could see clearly that her eyes —which were played by the limited ray of sunlight—were cool blue-grey. From her form on the chair, she was tall and slim. Not overly thin like usual Moroi girls have but she had her own curves.

I shook my head in disbelief when I noticed that I was checking the girl out. I started, again, to walk towards her. Her head snapped to my direction, I probably startled her because she looked a little dazed.

"Dimitri Belikov," she said and stood up from her chair, straightening imaginary folds on her grey cashmere sweater. She walked towards me and held out a hand.

I looked down at her hands, not wanting to touch it. I didn't know why I was, somewhat, repulsed by her hands but it was just that. I wasn't a wimp by not wanting to touch her but it just seemed like it was reasonable. I was just plainly uninterested.

I heard her clear her throat and she dropped her hand to her sides, fiddling on her pencil skirt.

"You're Elena Basescu," I said in a tone that spoke volumes of nothing. I walked toward the seat opposite to hers and sat down, crossing my ankles.

She cleared her throat again. "Yes. Lady Maria Elena Basescu."

"What do you want?" it was easier to get rid of these girls by being rude and straight to the point. I was never the one who beats around the bush.

Elena strode to her chair and sat down, crossing her legs. She looked like the Moroi she really was, complete with a set of pearl jewelries and black sensible pumps.

"If you don't mind, I'm not the kind of woman who beats around the bush, I'll get straight to the point." She said in a professional yet friendly voice. She looked at me with piercing blue-grey eyes and continued, "I'd like to offer you a place for being my guardian and—"

"I'm not interested." I could clearly see that that wasn't what she wanted from me.

She looked at me, her expression not changing. "Excuse me?" she asked in a timely offended voice.

"I'm simply uninterested of your offer, Lady Basescu. I thought I had made it clear with the employees that I didn't take in any visitors. If you don't mind, I have more important things to do." I stood up from where I was and started walking away.

I was aware of her following me but I didn't bother looking back. I went straight to the study and closed the door. It was too bad that she put a hand on the handle on time because it would have shut on her face.

I didn't like this woman even one bit. She was older than me—that makes her a pedophile. Well, as guardians, we couldn't really choose who we'll guard, but my case was different. I had the freedom to choose mine and I would never choose this woman.

"Look, Dimitri," she started babbling about things that I had no interest of saying. I just simply gazed on a painting, finding it less tedious than the woman's prattling. "—if you won't accept it, I don't have a choice but to report this to the Royal Court. Surely the Queen would do something —" I left her prattling about how she'll turn me over to the court for justice.

She was not only a stalker and a pedophile. She was also a control freak.

I pressed the button under the study's table. I never really used this emergency button before but I was sure I needed this now. The woman was getting on my nerves. I couldn't afford to lose any more of my reputation.

I heard loud and fast footsteps and guards in their uniform came bursting in the room. They didn't need to ask me who I wanted to get rid off—Elena was practically screaming at me when they got in. The guards took one look at her and escorted her out of the room, leaving the place quiet and peaceful again.

You might have been wondering why these guards could do these things to other Moroi—even royals. It was because that the family (my father's family) was one of the most important families in the whole Moroi world. Elena back there was a lower class royal, practically an ordinary Moroi. Not that I'm boasting, but my father's family… well, they're quite influential.

It wasn't long when I heard a car leave the palace then a phone ring. It was the study's phone.

I picked it up at the fourth ring.

"Belikov, speaking."

"How are you?" I didn't need to ask who the caller was. It was quite obvious, knowing he was supposed to be an army and all.

"Why do you ask?"

He chuckled. "You never change," was all he said.

"Why did you call?" I knew that these questions were stupid but what do I have to say?

"Just wanted to check how things were. Were girls harassing you?"

"I'm flattered that you want to know about my welfare but I assure you, I can handle myself." I said with a faint trace of sarcasm.

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I'll be coming back there within a week. How long are you going to be staying?" he asked and I could hear the faintest hint of melancholy in his voice.

"No definite answer to that," I was more than a little surprised at how I sounded. From the week that I had been here, many things have changed. My outlook in life has changed, my self-control was slacking, but still, the pain inside me was still here. But time makes it easier, making me feel stronger than I thought I could ever be.

"You sound better." One thing that I had found in common with us, we weren't really the talking type of people.

I just grunted my reply; I knew well that he understood what that meant.

"I should probably go now… Someone's waiting for me." He said a while later.

"Business?"

"Something like that," he said, told me a goodbye, and then hung up.

I sighed and relaxed on the chair. His study was big. Complete with leather chairs and mahogany tables and other stuff that he got from military school. He had his badges on a frame, books were stuffed everywhere and there was a painting. Only one painting. The one I'd been staring at the whole time when Elena accused me of murder that I did not commit.

The painting was beautiful, if you'd ask me. More than beautiful, it was amazing. Beyond amazing, stunning.

I stood up from where I was to admire it.

A girl was on the painting. A beautifully-shaped girl with the most lustrous dark hair I'd ever seen. Even through the painting, I could almost feel how her hair would be against my mere mortal fingers. She was wearing a flowing red dress that made her skin glow in an almost inhuman way. And then her face—the face was exquisite; it could only be owned by a goddess. Her face was perfect; complete with big, heavy-lidded dark eyes, long straight nose, high cheekbones and full ruby red lips.

She was facing the painter, her gloved hand lightly touching her collar bone and her eyes were set in a manner that could only be seductive.

The background of the painting was beautiful itself too, but not as much as the girl starring.

It took me time to tear my eyes away from the girl on the painting and search for a signature. The one who painted this could be better than Picasso or Da Vinci themselves. It was an award-worthy painting.

Just below the painting, it was barely visible through the rays of colors.

08-20-08

Beautiful Stranger

M.R.

Ah, the long waited revelation. It is out.

I hoped you liked the short chapter. And I, too, don't appreciate my crappy writing. I'm hurrying, my laptop's battery's dying! Ten minutes more!

Leave a purty REVIEW.

Love lots,

Kate :D