A/N: Thank you for the reviews, VampireNaomi, foxyaoi123, SoDesuKa, PrettyPunch, and Linda!
– CHAPTER 14 –
The Impostors
Singing had always been one of Lovino's pleasures. Even though he knew that his brother must be much better at it, Lovino still loved singing and found it much easier than painting, since it didn't require any manual dexterity whatsoever. It was one of the very few things he thought he could do well, and even other people seemed to recognise that fact. He preferred to sing by himself, though. When he closed his eyes to the harsh outside world and allowed himself to get lost in a musical world of his own creation, it was pure bliss. If he had to sing in front of someone, he had to block them from his sight and mind in order to sing as well as if he were alone.
But of course, trust fate to ruin even this small pleasure in his life. Singing opera was hard, even harder than Lovino had imagined. Bonnefoy and his fellow singers kept interrupting him to point out his mistakes. They were never rude about it, but Lovino could never handle criticism well, and it was making him feel more and more nervous and self-conscious, which led him to make even more mistakes and get even more criticisms, and so on and so forth.
Now he was singing with his eyes open, knowing that it was pointless to close them if they were going to interrupt him again any moment now. He could see Bonnefoy's unreadable face and the displeased frowns on his colleagues' faces, and in an inconspicuous corner, half-concealed by shadows, Gilbert watched him with an expression that alternated between boredom and mockery. Already red in the face from embarrassment and anger, Lovino sang with all his might, intent on impressing at least one person in this room.
"You're singing too loudly," said Bonnefoy once Lovino reached the last note. "Just because this is an opera doesn't mean you have to scream your lungs out. Also, you're singing a little too fast. It makes your singing sound flat and ungraceful."
By now, all the blood in Lovino's body must have moved to his face, judging by the way it burned.
"Y-you—you just told me I wasn't singing loudly enough, dammit!"
"Yes, but you didn't have to go overboard. Let's try again."
Lovino made a face at the prospect of prolonging this torture. "Can I take a break? My throat hurts."
"Your throat hurts because you've been singing too loudly. It'll get better with practice."
"Mr. Bonnefoy," interjected the bass, a tall, strong-built man who had been among the most displeased with Lovino's casting. "I'm sorry, but are you sure it was wise to cast a novice for the main role? And a tenor, at that? It just isn't right!"
"With all due respect, Mr. Battisti, I'm the director and owner of this opera house, so I decide what is right," replied Bonnefoy smoothly. "Mr. Vargas, you've had your break, now start singing again. Don't worry; you're doing great."
"No, I'm not! You keep saying that, but it's not true!" Lovino snapped, yelling despite the fact that it only made his throat hurt even more. "I suck! Even that moron over there can see that! You should just admit that this was a fucking horrible idea! You know what? I quit!"
"All right, if you insist, you can have the rest of the day off, but don't forget to come back for the rehearsal tomorrow," Bonnefoy called out in a bored tone even as Lovino stormed out of the room. He must be really thick, Lovino thought. Really, what part of "I quit" was so difficult to understand?
It really shouldn't have come as a surprise that he had failed again. For a while, he had really believed he could do at least one thing right. He should have known better. Everything he did was a failure. Even when it was something he thought he could do reasonably well, he still found a way to screw up. Why could he never do anything right? Even when he tried so hard—
A mocking laugh broke him out his thoughts, making him redden even more in anger.
"Oh, Feliciano's brother, you look so cute and funny when you throw a hissy fit like that!" Gilbert jeered.
"Shut the fuck up, asshole! And stop calling me 'Feliciano's brother'!"
"But you are Feliciano's brother!"
"I also have a name, you know!" yelled Lovino, speeding up his pace in order to get away from the relentless nuisance.
"You shouldn't shout like that, Feliciano's brother; it'll hurt your poor, abused throat!" Gilbert cackled.
"Then leave me the fuck alone, damn you!"
"But I want you to throw another hissy fit! It's so much more fun to watch than your opera!"
He pretty much ran all the way, and he was dismayed that Gilbert had no trouble keeping up at all. If anything, Gilbert looked like he was having a lot of fun. Lovino was usually good at running away and losing bullies, but this was a resilient one.
He headed straight home, hoping that maybe Antonio would be able to distract Gilbert, as they seemed to get along pretty well when they interacted – provided, of course, that Gilbert wasn't too close to Lovino. However, the first face he met as soon as he opened the door was Ludwig's. He had that perpetually frowning, irritated face and that intimidating aura, now fully focused on Lovino, as usual. It was all Lovino could do to stop himself from shrieking like a girl and hiding behind Gilbert, who was definitely the lesser of two evils – at least he was being paid to make sure that Lovino wouldn't be killed.
"What on Earth are you two doing?" rumbled Ludwig. Lovino was anxious to get in and retreat to his bedroom, but Ludwig was blocking the entrance.
"G-g-get the hell out of my way, you fucking musclehead!" Lovino demanded with all the courage he was able to find in himself as he tried to shove Ludwig, who didn't budge at all.
Ludwig sighed. "Gilbert, are you harassing the master's brother again? Just leave him alone and go do something worthwhile for once!"
Lovino took to punching Ludwig's broad chest repeatedly with clenched fists. "Move, shithead! This is my house!"
Ludwig sighed again, this time sounding even more exasperated, and finally had the grace to move to let Lovino in. "Technically, it's your brother's house," he muttered.
Lovino bristled and whirled around on him, too angry to even say anything. He had never felt this much hatred towards a single person. Even the hatred he felt for the Russos, the Gianturcos, Gilbert, Bonnefoy, and Edelstein, all put together, did not compare to the hatred he felt towards Ludwig. Lovino had never liked him to begin with, never trusted him in the least, and then he had resented him for being so close to Feliciano, but lately, Ludwig had started treating him like a common thief that was tricking poor, naïve Feliciano into giving him food and shelter, as if Lovino had no right to be here.
He wouldn't let this humiliation go on any longer. He would make Ludwig pay.
Tearing his hateful glare off Ludwig, Lovino forced himself to calm down and slowly walked away, knowing that Gilbert would follow him. He heard Ludwig let out yet another exasperated sigh and say, "Try not to break anything, please. We just finished cleaning the house." Lovino had no idea if the words were directed at Gilbert or Lovino himself – possibly at both – but he almost snapped again at the sound of that voice.
"Gilbert," he called in a voice that was almost a snarl as soon as Ludwig left them alone. "You're really pissing me off, following me around."
"Yeah, well, orders are orders," said Gilbert, with a shrug. "You think I don't have anything more fun to do than follow you around all day? I mean, it is pretty funny to watch you get all riled up, but it kind of gets old after a while."
"You know, you don't have to stand right next to me all the fucking time, or talk to me. You can watch me from a distance. Don't you love being by yourself?"
"Sure I do! But—"
"How am I supposed to hit on girls with a freak like you breathing down my neck and scaring off the poor things?" Lovino complained, gesturing wildly to convey his annoyance. "Tell you what? Let's make a deal! I'll even pay you for it, if you want."
"Hey, man, if you're trying to bribe me to get rid of me—"
"No, nothing like that! I just want you to keep a certain distance from me. Just for one day. Watch me from a distance and don't talk to me. Just so I can flirt in peace. Okay? Can you do that one simple thing? Just for one day?"
Gilbert seemed to consider it for a moment. "Well, okay, I guess... But no tricks! If you try anything funny again—"
"No tricks, I promise! I'll even pay you in advance." Lovino drew the coin purse he had stolen from Gilbert some time ago and gave it to him. Gilbert didn't recognise it, fortunately.
"Lovino!" he heard his brother's airy voice call in surprise. Feliciano was coming down the stairs, grinning at them. "I thought you'd only be back in the evening! Is everything all right?"
"Feliciano!" Lovino exclaimed and hurried over to his brother to steer him back upstairs. "Come with me. I need to have a word with you in private."
As promised, Gilbert followed him at a greater distance than usual.
"What? What do you want to talk about with me?" asked Feliciano, very confused and a little apprehensive.
"Oh, it's nothing serious," Lovino reassured him. "It's just that I'm going out to hit on some pretty girls and I need some nice clothes. Do you have any I can borrow?"
"Oh, sure, no problem!"
They soon arrived at Feliciano's bedroom and Lovino was quick to close the door while Feliciano rambled on about this nice set of clothes he often wore to flirt.
"Okay, shut up about the clothes now," Lovino hissed in Feliciano's ear. "Actually, I'm in a... mischievous mood today."
"Oh?" Feliciano gave him a wary, uncertain grin. Lovino returned it with a sly smile.
"Yeah. Remember when we were little and pretended to be each other to mess with people's heads?"
"Oh, yeah!" Feliciano laughed and nodded. "It was really fun! No one could tell us apart at all!"
"Let's do it again."
"What, now?"
"Yes, now! C'mon, it'll be fun! Just like the good old times!"
"Well..." Feliciano thought about it for a while and then started giggling. "Okay. I don't know if I can still pull it off, but I can try. It'd be so funny if everyone got confused again!"
"Exactly! Now take off your clothes and give them to me," Lovino instructed. "Put some really nice clothes on and go out to flirt with the girls, okay? And don't talk to Gilbert. He and I just had a fight and I'm not talking to him." Rather, he didn't want to risk Gilbert bringing up anything about the Gianturcos to Feliciano.
Lovino put on the same clothes that Feliciano had been wearing and quickly styled his hair just like his brother, parting it in the middle, then helped his brother part his own hair on the left. Their hair colour was slightly different, but that had never been a problem before. The difference in their behaviour alone was more than enough to fool even close friends.
Being near-identical twins, even though they had never been very close, they had perfected the art of imitating each other. Feliciano thought it was fun, while Lovino usually did it because it was the only time when people would be nice to him and praise him just like they praised his brother. He knew the compliments weren't for him, and he knew he was pathetic for it, but it was a nice illusion that he indulged himself with.
He watched as Feliciano's soft features wrinkled into a moody frown, his eyes opening a little and flaring in annoyance and his lips curling into a sneer.
"The fuck are you looking at, dumbass?" he asked in a gruff voice that was a little deeper than usual.
Pleased and rather impressed, Lovino allowed his own frown to melt into a dreamy grin, squinting his eyes a little.
"Those clothes just look so nice on you," he said in a singsong, high-pitched voice.
"Ugh, you're such a fucking idiot. I can't stand looking at your stupid face any longer. I'm going out to look for some pretty faces," said Feliciano, stomping over to the door and slamming it open, only to be met with the sight of Gilbert standing right in front of him. Feliciano rudely shoved him, "Get outta my way, you freak!"
Lovino worried for a moment that Gilbert had been listening against the door and overheard his plan to swap places with Feliciano. However, Gilbert gave him that almost fond smile that he reserved only for Feliciano and said, "Sorry, Feliciano, gotta go and make sure your brother won't do anything stupid. Take care of Ludwig for me, okay?"
Oh, he would take care of Ludwig, all right, Lovino thought as he sang goodbyes to his brother and Gilbert. For the first time in his life, he just couldn't wait to see Ludwig.
oOo
He soon found his prey in the kitchen, bent over one of the counters, his nose nearly touching the surface as he painstakingly rubbed a cloth over it to clean a spot that only he could see. Lovino took a minute to watch him in scornful puzzlement. Ludwig always did this kind of thing, and no one, not even Feliciano, could understand why. The maids were the ones in charge of cleaning the house. That was what they were for. And Lovino had to admit that they did a very good job. And yet, Ludwig always managed to find a missed spot, and instead of calling the maids out on it, he would take his own handkerchief and start cleaning it himself until everything was sparkling clean. What a weird, clean-freak bastard.
"Ludwig!" he finally burst out in the happiest tone he could muster and literally threw himself at Ludwig to hug him from behind. He knew that Ludwig hated surprises as well as physical contact, so he figured that surprise physical contact would make a great start.
As expected, he felt Ludwig tense from exasperation and the effort not to snap.
"Master," was all Ludwig said, and it was obvious that it was all he could do to refrain from yelling. Taking advantage of the fact that Ludwig still wasn't facing him, Lovino allowed himself a triumphant smirk.
"Ludwig, I missed you so much!" said Lovino, nuzzling Ludwig's muscular back, even though he was gagging a little inside. He had to stay in character for now.
"We just saw each other ten minutes ago," Ludwig pointed out.
"Luuudwiiiig," Lovino said in a drawling whine that never failed to grate on Ludwig's nerves – as well as Lovino's – every time Feliciano did it. "I'm bored. What are you doing?"
"Working," was the terse reply.
"But that's boring!"
Instead of replying, Ludwig resumed his attempt to eliminate the imaginary spot on the counter. Lovino fumed at being ignored, but rather than scowl, he imitated his brother's cute pout and did his best to annoy the heck out of Ludwig by poking at him repeatedly and using his most obnoxious whining voice.
"I'm bored! Let's do something fun! Ludwig, are you listening to me? Heeey! Look at me!"
"I'm busy! Can't you wait five minutes?" Ludwig finally half-snapped.
"Fine. I'll wait here until you're done, then."
A few minutes later, when it looked like Ludwig was finally getting satisfied with his work, Lovino quickly went to fetch a bottle of champagne from the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen. On his way back to Ludwig's side, he "accidentally" tripped and sent the bottle flying over the counter. The bottle lightly hit Ludwig's head on the way before crashing on the wall and spilling expensive champagne and glass shards all over the newly clean counter and the floor. The champagne had been a gift from Francis Bonnefoy, so Lovino didn't regret wasting it at all.
"Oops," Lovino giggled and sing-sang, "Sorry."
Rubbing at his head where the bottle had hit him, Ludwig stared in barely contained fury at the mess on the counter he had just worked so hard to clean. His nostrils flared and his teeth made an unpleasant gritting sound against each other, and Ludwig had to take several deep breaths, but he was able to control himself and hold his tongue.
"We could just have one of the maids clean that up, you know," Lovino helpfully pointed out.
"The maids don't do a very good job," Ludwig muttered, still surveying the mess. "I'll do it myself. Just give me another five minutes, sir."
"If you insist, no problem," Lovino replied, and he spent the next five minutes marvelling at how Ludwig lowered himself to this position all on his own. Despite his obsession with cleanness, he had never actually sunk to cleaning the floor with a dirty rag, on his knees, like a lowly servant. Not in front of Lovino, at least. Ludwig was supposed to be Feliciano's bodyguard, though he actually acted more like a butler half the time; either way, he should have been above this kind of job.
Lovino couldn't be happier at this turn of events. This was going even better than he had expected.
When Ludwig was finally done cleaning up the new mess, he was quite red in the face and cringing at the kinks in his shoulders and back. Lovino made it worse by dangling off his shoulders like a lazy human cape.
"Ludwig, watching you work like that made me really tired."
Ludwig said nothing, just gave him a flabbergasted glare that clearly meant, "I'm the one who was working while you just watched and you're tired?"
Lovino ignored the glare and tried to look as pitiful as his brother. "I want to sit down in my comfy divan in my study, but it's soooo far away, with all those stairs, and I'm sooo tired. Can you carry me there, Ludwig?"
With a long-suffering sigh, Ludwig lifted him in his arms bridal style, surprisingly gentle despite being a muscular beast. Lovino might have been a little mortified at being carried around like a damsel – and by this bastard of all people – but he was rather enjoying the pained look on Ludwig's reddened face as he went up several flights of stairs carrying Lovino's near-dead weight. He probably felt much more mortified than Lovino.
He wondered how far he could go...
They arrived at Feliciano's study and Ludwig carefully deposited Lovino on the luxurious divan where Feliciano's models usually lay. It was very soft and comfortable; anyone who sat or lay on it was bound to feel like a king. Lovino made a show of sprawling on it like a lazy cat, then let out another deliberately obnoxious whine.
"I don't want to be in this spot. I want to be next to the window, so I can watch the birds flying by. That will give me inspiration for my next painting!"
Ludwig's jaw clenched.
"Is that really necessary, sir?"
"Luuudwiiig..."
Once he was done cringing, Ludwig let out another long-suffering sigh and started pulling the divan – with Lovino still on it – towards the window. Lovino was quiet for a few seconds before he announced that he preferred the previous spot after all, forcing Ludwig to pull the divan all the way back.
"It's very hot," he said, fanning himself with his hand. "Ludwig, can't you do something about it?"
"I can open the window—"
"But the wind could knock over my fresh paintings!"
"I don't think—"
"Luuudwiiig..."
A few minutes later, an increasingly disgruntled Ludwig found himself fanning Lovino with a huge, feathery fan (another, old gift from Bonnefoy).
"I'm hungry."
"We just came from the kitchen..."
"I just got hungry. Can you bring me some grapes? Oh, and some wine, too."
"We don't have any grapes."
Lovino had known that, of course.
"Then go buy some in the market."
"We have other fruits—"
"But I want grapes! Luuudwiiig!"
Fortunately for Ludwig, Lovino didn't order him to feed him the grapes. There was a limit to everything, after all.
Lovino popped a grape into his mouth and sighed contentedly. Life was good (right now), and revenge was sweet.
"Oh, I can already feel the inspiration coming on," he said, grape still in his mouth. "Hey, Ludwig, my feet feel a little sore. Can you massage them for me?"
It looked like Ludwig was finally going to protest, but Lovino did his best to mimic his brother's pathetic, kicked-puppy face. That did the trick.
"I have work to do," was all Ludwig allowed himself to say in his resigned voice.
"You're already doing it," replied Lovino simply. Ludwig frowned, but offered no further comment.
Lovino once again took his time to gaze at his enemy in vindictive pleasure. He would always remember this, the sight of Ludwig's infuriated, humiliated face at his feet, whenever he needed to cheer himself up. You deserve worse, you bastard, much worse, he thought venomously. This is only the beginning. I'll make your life a living hell. I'll make you as miserable and humiliated as you made me, even if it's the last thing I do.
"Is there something on my face, master?" inquired Ludwig upon noticing that he was being stared at.
Fortunately, Lovino had been careful enough to keep his expression a pleasant mask. "No, no, I was just lost in my thoughts."
"If I may be so bold, sir, you seem to be a little more whimsical than usual today..."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Nothing, sir. Never mind."
"You're so funny, Ludwig!" Lovino giggled and relaxed back on the divan. It felt so nice to be the one being pampered like this for once. Of course, he would have preferred a beautiful, gentle, smiling girl for company a thousand times over, but even if this was Ludwig, the man he hated so much, it was still nice to be treated so well.
However, this hadn't been the point of this whole charade, and after a few moments, he was already preparing himself for the next step of his plan. He narrowed his eyes as he studied Ludwig's face, a gesture otherwise suspicious that was luckily disguised by the squinting characteristic of his brother.
"By the way, have you seen my brother today?"
Ludwig visibly tensed even more, if that was even possible, and took a second too long to reply.
"Yes, sir. I saw him approximately an hour ago. He had just come home with Gilbert. I believe they left again shortly afterwards, since it has been very quiet in the house."
"Were you nice to him?"
"Of course, sir."
Lovino fumed inside, struggling not to let his anger show. Fucking liar! He had glared at Lovino, showing open dislike for him, and treated him like a parasite. And he had the gall to lie to his master with such a straight face!
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "No comments that he could take as thinly veiled insults at all? You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ludwig?"
Ludwig's pale face flushed a light pink and he seemed to have trouble meeting Lovino's gaze.
"If I may be so bold, sir, I really don't mean to insult him. It's not my fault that he's so touchy. I only say the truth. You know that. I would never lie to you, just like I would never lie to him. If he can't handle the truth, that is not my fault, or anyone else's. It's his problem."
Lovino's hands shook with anger and the effort to hold it back, to keep up his innocent façade. Oh, how he would have loved to break this bastard's nose, gouge his eyes out, pull out his teeth and cut off his tongue so that he would never again be able to say any more distorted "truths", rip his muscles off one by one, and set him on fire so that he could die a slow, agony-filled death—
"Is something wrong, my lord?"
"Of course something is wrong, you f—" Lovino paused and took a few ragged breaths. No, this wasn't how he was supposed to act at all. What would Feliciano say in this kind of situation? Something completely idiotic and sappy, most likely.
He was so frustrated that he couldn't just tell him exactly what was on his mind or cause him any bodily harm that his eyes burnt with the threat of tears. Normally, he hated crying, especially in front of someone else, but this time it would work in his advantage.
"I-I mean, I just wish y-you and my brother could g-get along so we could all be a happy f-family, but... it's impossible! You treat him like he has no r-right to be here! You hate him!"
"My lord..." murmured Ludwig, a expression of worry forming on his usually impassive face.
"I know we're best friends, Ludwig, even if you won't accept it because we're also master and servant," continued a miserable-looking Lovino between exaggerated sobs and sniffles. "But Lovino is my brother. He's family. The only family I have left, and nothing can beat that, Ludwig, not even you. Blood is thicker than water, after all... If I have to choose between you two... well... I don't like the idea of having to choose, but if you can't get along, you leave me no choice. I just can't bear the thought of living under the same roof as someone who hates my own brother, my twin! Ludwig, if you hate him so much, I think it'd be for the best if you left..."
It was perfect. Humiliate Ludwig, then sack him and make sure he would never even try to contact Feliciano again. He would come up with an explanation for Ludwig's departure later, and also make sure that Feliciano would never try going after his dear friend. He would eventually get over it, Lovino was sure, and hopefully Gilbert would follow after his brother and leave him alone as well.
When no exclamations of surprise or objection were forthcoming, Lovino looked at Ludwig again. Once more, his normally impassive had contorted into a deeply pained expression, as if Lovino had just thrust a dagger right into his heart.
"If that is what you wish, my lord, I will comply. I can leave immediately, if you wish. However," he suddenly looked a little more like his impassive self, "I want you to know that I do not actually hate your brother. I never have. I swear. He's the one who hated me for no reason from the moment he saw me for the first time. I admit that it's true that he tries my patience. I do think he is irritating, selfish, envious, rude, and suspicious. He's a troublemaker, and I am certain that he is up to no good with my brother. But I know he is not a bad person, deep down. In fact, I think he is very... well... very sad. Um... or at least very insecure. And... a little misguided. I don't really understand him; I'm not good at guessing what other people are feeling, as you know... but I think he and I are alike, in a way. He doesn't know how to express his feelings like normal people do. I worry about you – I worry that he might drag you with him and get you into trouble, but... I don't hate him. I... Actually, I can't help but worry about him a little, too. After all, he is your brother." At, Ludwig fell silent, his face now flushed red in apparent embarrassment.
Lovino just stared at him. That had been completely unexpected, and he had no idea what to think for a moment. He had thought that Ludwig hated him. Why else would he glare at him all the time and treat him like crap? And why did he have to make Lovino sound so pathetic even when trying to claim his not-hatred for him?
Coming from Ludwig, it was absurd. Of course Ludwig hadn't meant a single word. He was just grasping for straws, hoping that his master would change his mind and allow him to stay. That was it, obviously, and Lovino cursed himself for believing him even if only for a moment. That was why Ludwig hadn't left yet, but kept staring at him in expectation. That manipulative bastard.
And yet, why couldn't Lovino tell him to leave once and for all? It was on the tip of his tongue, yet he held back when Ludwig's words echoed in his mind. Why did he feel... touched that someone else claimed to worry about him? He knew it wasn't true, so why? Maybe he really was that pathetic...
Shame at his own stupidity helped fuel his resolve. He couldn't back out now, not when he was so close to succeeding! He was just confused because he had been taken by surprise, but if he kicked Ludwig out right now, he wouldn't have to think about it any more and would eventually get over these pathetic feelings. He had to dismiss him right now!
He leapt to his feet, his gaze hardening as he forced all sympathetic thoughts out of his heart.
Before he could get a single syllable out, the door burst open, making both men jump.
"Oh, there you are, idiot."
Lovino paled. It was Feliciano. Still pretending to be him, it seemed. Lovino's first impulse was to shout his brother's name and ask what the hell he was doing here, but fortunately, he gulped those words before they could get out and reveal his true identity.
"Oh. Lovino. Hello," he said in a strained voice, trying to sound at least a little cheerful. "Why are you back so soon? Is something wrong?" He had better have a good excuse, or else...
Feliciano also looked like he was having some trouble keeping the act up. He looked quite pale and he was sweating a little. He almost smiled at Lovino's question, before he reminded himself that he was supposed to look serious.
"N-not that it's any of your, uh, damn business," said Feliciano, stumbling a little over his words, "but I was outside hitting on girls just like you told—I mean, just like I told you I'd do, and then I noticed that there were some creepy, burly men I'd never seen before staring at me everywhere I went. I was a little creeped out, so I came home. Idiot," he added as an afterthought.
If Lovino had got pale before, now he must look close to a living dead, as he felt the blood rapidly drain from his face. Oh, God, the Russos had finally found him. There was no other explanation. He didn't know what was worse; the thought that his innocent brother could have been attacked and even killed by them, without even knowing why, or the thought that Lovino himself could have been and probably would very soon be assaulted by them.
And of course, Feliciano had to go and say such an incriminating thing out loud, right in front of Ludwig. Lovino risked a glance at him. Oh, shit, if Ludwig had been suspicious of him before, now he was certain that Lovino was up to no good. Yes, there it was, that familiar, accusing glare. Then, Ludwig realised that Lovino was also glaring at him and remembered that he had been about to be dismissed.
"Shall I start packing now, my lord?" he asked.
"Packing?" Feliciano echoed, his eyes even more alarmed than they had already been. "Why? Where are you going?" Although the question was addressed to Ludwig, he quickly directed his inquiring gaze to Lovino.
God damn it all! Feliciano really had terrible timing. Now he couldn't kick Ludwig out. Feliciano would drop his act right away and demand to know what was going on, then assure Ludwig that he could stay and scold Lovino for almost dismissing his best friend. He would probably never trust him to switch places again, either.
"No, no, it's all right!" Lovino burst out. "I'm sure you can learn to get along if you give each other a chance!"
Ludwig hesitated, his face unreadable as ever, while Feliciano looked even more confused. Lovino could tell he was one second away from opening his big mouth to ask what was going on again, but Lovino beat him to it and hurried to catch him in a tight – too tight, warning – hug.
"Don't worry, Lovino, you're safe now!" he cooed in his warmest, most reassuring tone. "Now, why don't we have a little chat while Ludwig makes us a snack?" And then he quickly dragged his weakly protesting brother safely away from Ludwig's intense gaze.
oOo
She was a prisoner. A prisoner in a large, luxurious bedroom, but a prisoner nonetheless. She supposed it could have been worse – she had expected worse, when Count Russo had found her and tried to drag her away against her will. At least the bed was comfortable, and there were some books that she could read to pass the time, and she was treated like a princess. However, she was not allowed outside the room unless there was someone to watch her closely.
The worst part was, she had no idea why she was here.
They kept calling her Caterina. When she tried to protest that she wasn't this Caterina person or just failed to answer to that name, Count Russo told her she was either joking or confused due to some kind of trauma. He sounded so certain that she was Caterina that she could almost start believing that she was indeed Caterina and had just forgotten for some reason.
But there was a portrait in the bedroom, the portrait of a beautiful young woman. There was also a mirror, and she could look into it and then take another look at the portrait for good measure. She and Caterina didn't really have that much in common in terms of appearance. They were both blonde, but the similarities ended there. In fact, even her hair was a different shade. Caterina was much taller, fairer, more voluptuous, so to speak. She had a timid smile and sad, watery eyes, and her face was rounder. Caterina's dresses were also too long for her, making her trip all the time when she tried walking, and it was quite loose in the chest. Her shoes were also a little too big.
She was quite sure she wasn't Caterina. So why did they keep calling her that name and treating her like the Count's daughter?
She sat by the window, her only contact with the outside world. The landscape outside had never looked so bleak. There was so green, no singing birds, no sign of life to comfort her, and she could do nothing but wonder about all the people who would miss her, wonder how long it would take them to realise that she was a prisoner and when they would come to save her.
A light knock brought her out of her thoughts and she dully turned her head to the door, which opened quietly, almost timidly. A young man walked in, his head and left eye bandaged.
"Lady Caterina Russo," he said, with a respectful bow. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but I have orders to check up on you."
He was alone. That caught her attention, because the other servants had always come to her room accompanied by other servants or by Count Russo himself. He was also the only servant so far who hadn't looked at her with surprise or confusion in his eyes. She was sure they hadn't met before, and yet he didn't look at her like a stranger.
"You do know I'm not Caterina, right?" she asked quietly. His expression didn't change at all. Rather, it was very weary.
"Yes, I know. I am sorry that you got dragged into this. I had no idea he was this far gone," he replied, also very quietly. "But for everyone's sake, especially your own, I advise you to humour him and accept your new identity."
"What?" she exclaimed, only slightly louder. "You can't really expect me to pretend I'm another person for the rest of my life!"
"You should be grateful," he told her, his voice lacking any emotion to match his suddenly sharp, cold gaze. "If he had recognised you, you would probably be dead now, or worse. After all, you are close friends with one of his greatest enemies."
Bella narrowed her eyes and clenched her fingers on the folds of her dress. So he knew exactly who she was. This was what she had been afraid of all along. Of course, she had wanted them to realise that she wasn't Caterina, but at the same time, she hadn't wanted them to know who she really was.
"Don't worry, though. I wish you no harm," said the young man, a little grudgingly.
That was a surprise. Bella threw him a curious look. Was he on her side, after all?
"I confess that, like Count Russo, I harbour great resentment, maybe even hatred, towards your friend Lovino Vargas for taking the life of someone I cared deeply for. But I know that you can hardly be blamed for it."
"You cared deeply for Natalia Russo?" said Bella in disbelief. "But she was crazy!"
"She wasn't crazy!" he protested, raising his voice for the first time with unexpected vehemence. "She was lonely! She just wanted to be loved! No one could ever see that! No one, least of all her unfaithful husband. Only I have ever been able to see her other side, her true self." He held out his hands, displaying his fingers, which, if Bella looked closely, seemed to be slightly crooked. He stared at them with distant, wistful eyes and whispered, "I can still remember when she held my hands in hers, as she gently caressed my fingers one by one and showed me her unique way of love and affection, marking my body and my soul forever. I was the only one who could see the gesture for what it really was."
It took a moment for Bella to understand what he meant. When she did, a sick feeling settled in her stomach.
This man had to be as insane as the Russos. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. In the end, he was a poor fool in love, just like she had been.
"Your eye..." she whispered. "Was it also...?"
"No," he said, resurfacing from his reverie and resuming his cold expression and tone of voice. "This I owe to the man I hate and pity the most in the world after Lovino Vargas."
Her heart clenched. She didn't know whom he was referring to, and that wasn't really important. Rather, she was too caught up with what he had said about Lovino.
"What are you going to do to Lovino?" she asked, fearful.
"That doesn't matter. After all, you are not his friend. You have nothing to do with him. You are Caterina Russo. You don't have to worry about anything. All you have to do is stay here and never leave Count Russo's side."