Hi Everyone, Fishie here!
Heh... So much for this chapter taking a long time... I decided to divide this scene/ story arc/ chapter thing into two or three pieces, so here is the first one! I wanted to just put all the pieces together in a single chapter, but when I got to 2500 words and I only had the intro part of the chapter done, I knew I would have to split it up. Thankfully, it divides up nicely, so it will make for a good three or so chapters... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Mortal Instruments!
Eve returned her book to the library and immediately ran to Jada's chambers.
Technically, she was still wearing her nightclothes – a tiny black nightgown and her crimson silk housecoat – but Eve had lost a reason to care about it. She had lost a reason to care about anything. The corridors seemed to blur into one pale, nondescript pool of grey as she swung into the doorway of her tutor's rooms – and Eve hoped that her unclear vision was from speed and not from tears.
Jada was lounging on a royal blue armchair in the center of her vast sitting room when Eve found her, with her feet propped up idly on a matching, padded ottoman. Her shiny raven hair tumbled thickly over her bronzed shoulders to her tiny waist, and a maid was kneeling industriously at her feet, painting her toe-nails. Jada glanced upward as she heard Eve enter and smiled luxuriously. She was wearing dark, red lipstick, Eve saw, which made her tutor's teeth seem fantastically white as she beamed Eve's way.
"Buongiorno, bambina," Jada greeted, looking content. "Can this wait, uccello? I just had a very relaxing bubble bath, a lovely diamond-cream facial, and a fabulous manicure." She wiggled her fingers at Eve, showing off her flashy, impeccable nail-job. There was a moment of silence, where she looked and seemed to really see Eve's expression, and her lazy smile faded, replaced instead with a look of concern.
"Uccello… Eve," she added. Her tone was slow and worried now. "What is the matter?"
Eve had no idea what she wanted to say. But she certainly didn't want to say it with a maid in the room. The maids were notorious for running their mouths off about everything. There was a long pause between teacher and pupil, and their eyes locked across the room for a fraction of a second: Jada seemed to understand the urgency in Eve's stare.
"Mary, could you leave us a moment?" Jada said, waving her hand imperiously at the maid.
The maid shot Jada a martyred look but eagerly did as she was told. Apparently, she had not particularly enjoyed the task of giving Jada a pedicure. The maid offered Eve a polite, almost grateful, curtsy as she exited the room, but Eve couldn't look at the girl. She was too busy trying not to spontaneously break into tears.
As soon as the door closed behind the maid, Jada slipped her small feet gracefully off of the blue ottoman. "Here, Eve," Jada offered. "Sit."
Eve sat.
Jada was wearing her usual, impeccable style of clothing – a tight, fitted pencil skirt and a loose silky blouse. A pair of dark high heels rested beside Jada's bare feet, Eve noticed as she avoided Jada's gaze, and the delicious smell of perfume tickled Eve's nose as the other woman leaned close to her. Her tutor's fingertips were smooth and gentle where they slipped under Eve's chin. It was a nice change to be touched by soft hands, she thought, considering that everyone else in the house had rough calloused fingers: They had all lived a life of the sword: They were all warriors; soft hands came as a low priority.
"Eve," Jada repeated once the door clicked closed. "What is the matter?"
Her eyes couldn't meet Jada's; she knew she would have started crying if she stared into Jada's eyes for too long. And Eve had learned many years ago that a true Nephilim did NOT cry: under any circumstance.
"I…" Eve swallowed. "I talked to Jonathan, today, Jada…"
Jada sighed sympathetically. "Oh, so that is what this is about… Bambina –"
"He – he was angry with me, Jada," Eve continued miserably, cutting her tutor off. "I … I've never seen him that angry before… Jada, I – I think that I've ruined everything…"
"No," Jada breathed. "No, you didn't ruin anything, uccello…"
"But I have," Eve insisted, glancing up into Jada's lovely brown eyes. Her tutor's eyelashes were so long and dark that they looked fake. "You… didn't see the way he looked at me, Jada. He… he honestly hates me."
With a touch gentler than a mother's, her tutor reached out and tucked a lock of Eve's golden hair behind her ear. Something glittered on Jada's wrist: a diamond bracelet. The tiny diamonds near the clasp had been carefully shaped into stars… Was the bracelet a Morgenstern piece?
No, Eve told herself. That was impossible. Why in the world would Jada have a piece of Morgenstern jewelry?
"I find it hard to believe that he hates you, Eve," Jada said with a soft smile. "Tell me what happened."
Eve took a deep breath in, ready to let the events of the last ten minutes pour out in a verbal flood – but she was interrupted before she could speak a word: The maid from before knocked quickly and flung open the sitting-room door, without waiting for Jada to give her permission to enter. Jada looked peeved.
"What is it?" she snapped, turning sharply to the doorway. Her bronze skin seemed to glitter where the light touched it.
The maid giggled girlishly. Eve wondered what was so funny.
"There is a visitor for you, Miss Jada," she said, blushing and toying with her straight, brown hair. "He is waiting for you in the main foyer."
Jada's expression dissolved into bewilderment. "A male visitor?" she echoed confusedly. "In the foyer?"
The maid nodded gleefully.
Sighing, Jada slipped on her high-heels and rose elegantly to her feet. She didn't seem too concerned about ruining her freshly painted toenails, Eve thought dully.
"Come with me, bambina," Jada said, flicking her long raven hair over her shoulder. "We can talk about this on the way back."
Eve trailed behind Jada obediently as she slid out of the room, and they navigated through the marble corridors with ease. Jada's heels were clicking against the stone floor petulantly and she was muttering under her breath the entire way that: 'this had better not be one of those lovesick stable-hands again' and 'if one more staff-member asks for my hand in marriage, I swear by the Angel, I am going to quit!' Her comments made Eve smile, despite everything that had happened.
It was hard for her to imagine that Jada could quit – that she was an employee at all: Jada seemed just as much a part of this household as Valentine or Jonathan…
They reached the main foyer faster than Eve had expected. She and Jada were on the second storey of the Manor, at the top of the massive, grand marble staircase, looking down on the ground level: Jada stormed to the steps a few paces before Eve, with her hands resting irritably on her flared hips – then froze instantly.
"Tesoro," Jada whispered, suddenly. Her posture softened and she hastily disappeared down the stairs.
For a single moment, Eve thought of the story Jada had told her, the one about her being in love with Argyle Silverspear, and Eve hurried to the top of the stairs in a flash. What she saw as she looked down, however, was nothing at all like what she had expected.
There was a male figure at the bottom of the stairs, yes, but he looked closer to Eve's own age than Jada's. His black pants and shoes were soaked with water – his loose, white dress-shirt made transparent and clingy and heavy with wetness. Eve almost blushed. His beautiful, sun-kissed chest and arms shone through the drenched fabric, his tanned skin peeking out from where the first few buttons of his shirt had come undone. He had the face of an angel, Eve thought, which was totally strange. When she thought of angels, she had always supposed that they looked much like Jonathan; with the pale coloring and striking features that suited angels so well – but nothing about this boy was like Jonathan at all.
No, from his bronzed skin to his tumbled, dripping black hair, this boy shared no similarities with Jonathan – and yet, in spite of all those differences, he was absolutely beautiful: an angel. Just as beautiful as Jonathan was – maybe even more.
It was his eyes, Eve guessed, that compelled her so much. They were a lovely chocolate brown – familiar, but not entirely recognizable – but no, it wasn't their color that drew in her so much. It was the deep, profound sadness in them that called to Eve. Their bottomless melancholy remained, even as Jada ran to him, cupped his handsome face in her hands, and lovingly kissed his cheek. His posture was rigid, almost pained; Eve was certain she saw the boy cringe in agony as Jada touched his face.
"Theo," Jada exhaled adoringly – there was love and confusion mingled in her voice. "What are you doing here, tesoro?"
The boy –Theo – stiffly detached her hands and dropped them to her sides. He was refusing to make direct eye-contact with Jada, Eve saw as she leaned against the thick balustrade.
There was a small angel statuette on either side of the staircase, capping the banister; the figures were identical to each other, except that one marble winged-man held an embellished cup to his chest, and the other held an impressive-looking sword. Eve's finger traced the strong, masculine nose of one of the angel statues with her fingertip, feeling oddly shy. This boy was someone personal to Jada, and Eve felt slightly guilty by intruding on their moment.
"I came to speak with you, Jada," was the boy's humble reply. He had a lovely Italian accent, making his voice as smooth and rich as caramel syrup. Eve was awed.
"What is the matter?" Jada asked, looking worried. "Is everything – are you alright?"
He finally looked up at Jada. He had pretty long eyelashes, and water droplets beaded on them like diamonds.
"I…" Theo glanced up, saw Eve, and paused. She was aware in that moment that she was still wearing her not-so-modest nightclothes and blushed. His eyes remained miserable as he weakly smiled up at Jada.
"I'm alright," he answered, although Eve could tell that he was lying through his teeth. "I just came to see you, I feel like we haven't seen each other for ages. Are you… busy?" he added, his eyes flicking to Eve.
"No," Jada sighed. "Of course not." She tenderly wrapped her arm around his shoulders, smiling. "Come, you are shivering. Is it really raining so much outside? Why didn't you take the carriage?"
They scaled the steps together, and Eve was startled to see the similarities between the two; she hadn't really noticed them before. Both shared the same flawless honey-gold skin and dark tumbled hair, the same high cheekbones and long eyelashes, the same pretty shape to their eyes and lips. Eve was surprised – by the way the maid had introduced him, it sounded like this boy was a suitor of Jada's: Was he? He was certainly beautiful enough…
Eve stared at her toes as Jada and the boy approached, trying to melt into the scenery. She had hoped to talk to Jada about Jonathan, but her tutor was obviously going to be occupied for the next few hours, visiting with this Theo boy. Disappointment unfurled in Eve's chest – but she fought against it. Jada was kind to her, and she was determined to give Jada the same kindness in return.
To her horror, Jada and Theo had stopped right in front of her, and Eve could feel her tutor's eyes on her tangibly, like a touch. "Theo, this is Eve, who I've told you so much about," Jada said. "Eve, this is my younger brother, Mattheo Buonovento."
Eve blinked.
Ah, that explained it! This was Jada's brother!
She smiled up at him, shyly, and he politely extended his hand to her. Eve put her fingers delicately in his palm, and almost jumped out of her skin as Theo raised her knuckles to his face and tenderly kissed the back of her hand.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Eve," he greeted, his lips whispering against her skin.
Eve stared.
He didn't say her name 'Eve' like the way that everyone else usually did, but pronounced it almost like 'Eva' – slurring her name with his Italian accent. He glanced at her through those thick dark lashes, in a way that made Eve's cheeks turn a slow, deep red. "It – it's a pleasure to meet you, as well, Mattheo," Eve replied.
Jada grinned.
"Come, fratello," she said, glancing knowingly at Eve. Jada whispered something well-humoredly in her brother's ear and Eve's face turned an even more furious shade of scarlet. What Jada had said to him sounded a lot like: 'È possibile lasciare la ragazza carina da solo ora, Theo' – translated roughly into English as a pointed: 'You can leave the pretty girl alone now, Theo.'
He smiled witheringly at his sister. "Grazie a voi, Jada," he answered dryly."Che è molto utile."
Eve's mind translated his words into English instantly in her head: 'Thank-you, Jada,' Theo had said. 'That's very helpful.'
She tried to suppress her smirk as Theo respectfully inclined his head to her, past her, and disappeared down the marble corridor. He smelt like fresh rain and pine trees. Jada lagged behind, long enough to lean in and whisper "Don't feel bad, bambina. The Buonovento family charms are irresistible." into Eve's ear – and then Jada left as well, and she was alone.
With a soft smile, Eve turned and watched the two figures retreating into the shadowy halls of the Manor, the young man a smidge taller than the young woman, feeling strangely content. Suddenly, as if a winter doorway had opened behind her, an icy shudder ran down Eve's spine. It felt like she was being watched. She slowly revolved around, her nerve-ends snapping with electricity, and frowned. Her blue, gold-flecked eyes scanned the empty foyer, looking for the source of her apprehension – but there was nothing. The gleaming marble floor shone up at her like the calm surface of a lake. The room was silent.
After one more suspicious glance around the foyer, Eve turned and retreated hastily to her rooms.
She would never know that after she left, a pale figure emerged from a shadowy corner of the foyer – his strong arms crossed over his chest, his sculpted mouth set into a
murderous scowl. And she would never see the way that his black eyes glared her way as she left the room, like two shards of dangerous blackened volcanic ash.
Here you go: the beginning of some drama!
PS: What do you think of Theo? (AKA: Mr. Smexy-Italian-Dreamboat) And what is this going to mean for Eve/ Jonathan?
Hmm... I guess you are going to have to wait until next time to find out...
Love, Fishie.
