Marie and a boy brought in group of silver trays before Cyrene could think of a response. They set it on a table between her host and his guest. Marie gave the girl a look of disgust before turning the two left.
{Can't blame her though. I didn't exactly dress for the trip.} The girl thought, pulling her robe closer around her.
Alexandre insisted she eat with him. The meal was simple enough, bread, cheese, chicken, and fruit, with wine and water. That was the simplest thing about it. Even just between two people there were manners to be observe, and a certain way to eat, to hold a fork and knife, and use a napkin and hundreds of other things that reminded Cyrene why she never wanted to be rich.
She felt completely out of place, at the same time she felt comfortable with the whole thing. Later on, she would blame Alexandre for that. He liked to talk, that much was obvious. He talked about his life before the Horla. He was noble born, but not really a nobleman. He'd had a good love life, even been engaged once, but she'd cheated on him with someone way richer. He talked about when he was younger, and playing games with his brothers and teasing his sister and their cousin Rebecca. And he talked about nothing at all. His guest listened for only three reasons: One, Sûr Eu was obviously a lonely place, and he was trying to hang on to his new companion for as long as he could. Second, she had hopes that somehow his ramblings would answer her main question: Was the Horla real, or was this man just crazy?
And third (she had to admit there was a third) he had an incredible voice. Hypnotic almost. This last reason Cyrene did her best to shake off or at least ignore. She wasn't her for a date, she was here to help him.
In between he asked about Cyrene, and she found herself talking freely about all she could, the world she came from, Liam, finding the manual, taking the Oath, everything she thought was safe to tell him. She had to claim not to remember life before her adoption. He had such a kind face, that she felt she had to protect him from the truth of what she'd done and had done to her before. Alexandre was interested in it all, leaning forward as she talked, his head tilted slightly, his eyes almost never leaving her face and a smile never leaving his. All the attention twisted Cyrene's stomach up in knots and made her blush a few times, for no reason she could think of.
The meal ended as the sun finished setting. Marie and the boy had come by during their talk and lit almost every candle in the house, giving it a strange glow. By now Cyrene had reached a decision about the man who'd called her: if he was crazy, he was very good at hiding it..
"Oh dear, I've been talking the day away haven't I?" For the thousandth time Alexandre ran his hand through his hair as he talked. "Most likely I shouldn't ask this of you. With anyone else it would be rude. But you seem to have come from quite a long ways away and, if you don't mind my saying, you look a little worn. I'd like to offer you a room here for the night. In the morning, " he continued, afraid that she would say no right away " In the morning we can discuss if anything happened. That is...if It returns during the night...and we could go from there."
******************************************************
As the sun set at Sûr Eu, it rose over 2700 Rose Ave. A bleary-eyed Liam stumbled from his daughter's room into the kitchen. He called up work and complained of being sick. They owed him a day anyway. He walked around as if it were a normal morning, burning breakfast and making the whole apartment choke with the scent of coffee, all the time keeping his senses open for the girl's return. He even made a show of reading the newspaper as slowly as he cold and watching something from all 13 of his Television channels, even the NASA channel. But 8 o'clock came and went, and still no word.
"Screw this." He growled around 9:30. He threw down the remote and stalked off to the phone again. He pounded the keys and listened to the buzzing on the line.
"C'mon C'mon hurry up."
Click. Whirr.
"If you know you're departments four digit extension, you may enter it at any --" Beep, beep, beep, beep. "You're call is being processed, please hold." A mechanical version of "La Vie Boheme" played for too long and then a whiny " Sciences and Shops, who're ya and whata y. want now?"
"I need to talk to Kit Rodriguez.."
"And I need raise and 2 months vacation time."
"This is an emergency."
"What is it now? House run away? Water on fire? Stub a toe?"
"Just connect me Marvin."
"Yes Master." Replied the whiny voice in a horrible Igor impression. Another long minutes of
pauses followed before Kit picked up.
Liam was surprised at how shaking his own voice sounded when he spoke. "Kit? She's gone. Left some time during the night. Ya. Ya I did sorta figure that out. Huh? The book? Na, 's righ' 'ere. Yes I'm sure. How bad? No you can't get back to me!! Kit?! KIT!"
*************************************************************************
Cyrene had been led by Marie into a guest bedroom on the second floor that was at least as big as her apartment. The bed itself could fit half a football team, in full uniform, comfortably. The frame work was painted, gilded walnut, and gilded iron. Something large and round was propped up in the middle of it and from it hung curtains of the same light blue silk as the sheets, blankets and pillow covers. It was out lined in a fancy edging made of some kind of flat braid, beading, and metallic threads. The curtains were attached to one of the four posters that had ostrich plume feathers poking out of the end of them. The room was decorated in the same way, white with gilded trim and gold and white curtains around the windows. Each of the four corners held and immense candelabra that support four candles each. On the wall directly across from her bed stood a full elngth mirror. The room let off an atmosphere of comfort and the ultimate in relaxation. (A/N: For reservations call 555...oh wait...nevermind)
It was all comfortable. She'd had slept on floors, cots, hard ground, concrete, and in doorways and crawlspaces. She wasn't meant for a bed of silk and down. She paced the marble floor, another strange thing, and chewed her bottom lip as she thought. She was here to fight what couldn't even be seen, without even her manual to help her out.
She stood before the mirror. "Why did I even agree to stay?" She asked the reflection, a child wearing blue wizard's robes. "Because you were needed here." her reflection answered. " Because The Powers That Be, think you have a shot at winning. Because you want to prove your worthy of being a wizard. " She smiled. "And because your host is a hottie."
{Can't blame her though. I didn't exactly dress for the trip.} The girl thought, pulling her robe closer around her.
Alexandre insisted she eat with him. The meal was simple enough, bread, cheese, chicken, and fruit, with wine and water. That was the simplest thing about it. Even just between two people there were manners to be observe, and a certain way to eat, to hold a fork and knife, and use a napkin and hundreds of other things that reminded Cyrene why she never wanted to be rich.
She felt completely out of place, at the same time she felt comfortable with the whole thing. Later on, she would blame Alexandre for that. He liked to talk, that much was obvious. He talked about his life before the Horla. He was noble born, but not really a nobleman. He'd had a good love life, even been engaged once, but she'd cheated on him with someone way richer. He talked about when he was younger, and playing games with his brothers and teasing his sister and their cousin Rebecca. And he talked about nothing at all. His guest listened for only three reasons: One, Sûr Eu was obviously a lonely place, and he was trying to hang on to his new companion for as long as he could. Second, she had hopes that somehow his ramblings would answer her main question: Was the Horla real, or was this man just crazy?
And third (she had to admit there was a third) he had an incredible voice. Hypnotic almost. This last reason Cyrene did her best to shake off or at least ignore. She wasn't her for a date, she was here to help him.
In between he asked about Cyrene, and she found herself talking freely about all she could, the world she came from, Liam, finding the manual, taking the Oath, everything she thought was safe to tell him. She had to claim not to remember life before her adoption. He had such a kind face, that she felt she had to protect him from the truth of what she'd done and had done to her before. Alexandre was interested in it all, leaning forward as she talked, his head tilted slightly, his eyes almost never leaving her face and a smile never leaving his. All the attention twisted Cyrene's stomach up in knots and made her blush a few times, for no reason she could think of.
The meal ended as the sun finished setting. Marie and the boy had come by during their talk and lit almost every candle in the house, giving it a strange glow. By now Cyrene had reached a decision about the man who'd called her: if he was crazy, he was very good at hiding it..
"Oh dear, I've been talking the day away haven't I?" For the thousandth time Alexandre ran his hand through his hair as he talked. "Most likely I shouldn't ask this of you. With anyone else it would be rude. But you seem to have come from quite a long ways away and, if you don't mind my saying, you look a little worn. I'd like to offer you a room here for the night. In the morning, " he continued, afraid that she would say no right away " In the morning we can discuss if anything happened. That is...if It returns during the night...and we could go from there."
******************************************************
As the sun set at Sûr Eu, it rose over 2700 Rose Ave. A bleary-eyed Liam stumbled from his daughter's room into the kitchen. He called up work and complained of being sick. They owed him a day anyway. He walked around as if it were a normal morning, burning breakfast and making the whole apartment choke with the scent of coffee, all the time keeping his senses open for the girl's return. He even made a show of reading the newspaper as slowly as he cold and watching something from all 13 of his Television channels, even the NASA channel. But 8 o'clock came and went, and still no word.
"Screw this." He growled around 9:30. He threw down the remote and stalked off to the phone again. He pounded the keys and listened to the buzzing on the line.
"C'mon C'mon hurry up."
Click. Whirr.
"If you know you're departments four digit extension, you may enter it at any --" Beep, beep, beep, beep. "You're call is being processed, please hold." A mechanical version of "La Vie Boheme" played for too long and then a whiny " Sciences and Shops, who're ya and whata y. want now?"
"I need to talk to Kit Rodriguez.."
"And I need raise and 2 months vacation time."
"This is an emergency."
"What is it now? House run away? Water on fire? Stub a toe?"
"Just connect me Marvin."
"Yes Master." Replied the whiny voice in a horrible Igor impression. Another long minutes of
pauses followed before Kit picked up.
Liam was surprised at how shaking his own voice sounded when he spoke. "Kit? She's gone. Left some time during the night. Ya. Ya I did sorta figure that out. Huh? The book? Na, 's righ' 'ere. Yes I'm sure. How bad? No you can't get back to me!! Kit?! KIT!"
*************************************************************************
Cyrene had been led by Marie into a guest bedroom on the second floor that was at least as big as her apartment. The bed itself could fit half a football team, in full uniform, comfortably. The frame work was painted, gilded walnut, and gilded iron. Something large and round was propped up in the middle of it and from it hung curtains of the same light blue silk as the sheets, blankets and pillow covers. It was out lined in a fancy edging made of some kind of flat braid, beading, and metallic threads. The curtains were attached to one of the four posters that had ostrich plume feathers poking out of the end of them. The room was decorated in the same way, white with gilded trim and gold and white curtains around the windows. Each of the four corners held and immense candelabra that support four candles each. On the wall directly across from her bed stood a full elngth mirror. The room let off an atmosphere of comfort and the ultimate in relaxation. (A/N: For reservations call 555...oh wait...nevermind)
It was all comfortable. She'd had slept on floors, cots, hard ground, concrete, and in doorways and crawlspaces. She wasn't meant for a bed of silk and down. She paced the marble floor, another strange thing, and chewed her bottom lip as she thought. She was here to fight what couldn't even be seen, without even her manual to help her out.
She stood before the mirror. "Why did I even agree to stay?" She asked the reflection, a child wearing blue wizard's robes. "Because you were needed here." her reflection answered. " Because The Powers That Be, think you have a shot at winning. Because you want to prove your worthy of being a wizard. " She smiled. "And because your host is a hottie."