The next morning I walked into Father's study, a little early for my
morning lesson. Darien was sitting at the large mahogany desk, and he
started when I entered the room. His handsomely tanned face turned a
little pale, and he shuffled the papers on the desk haphazardly as he
rose to greet me.
" 'Morning, Darien," I said shyly as I curtsied. The pallor of his
face had confused me, for why would he look so...guilty? But then I
realized what must have returned to the fore of his mind upon my
appearance.
"Good Morning, Serena," he returned smoothly with a smile, bowing
deeply.
"Darien... about last night..." I began, determining to clear the air,
for the previous evening's events were still more than a little
startling to us both, I knew.
"Yes, I've been meaning to discuss that with you," he began in a
slightly muted tone, after he cleared his throat, "Serena, it was
extremely inappropriate for me to...to sneak into your room as I did,
and even to kiss you in public, and in the king's palace, no less. It
was unseemly behavior on my part, as I am supposed to be educating you
in the matters of moral clarity and decorum, as well as everything else,
and that was very hypocritical of me, after all my lectures to you
about conducting yourself like a lady. I can assure you that I shall
not allow such misconduct ever again."
I suddenly felt very empty. Never again? Had it meant nothing to him,
save an excellent example of "unseemly behavior," then? I felt
something prick my eyes, and I shut them quickly, as I slowly nodded to
show that I understood, even if I didn't agree with a single word.
Suddenly, a hand lifted my chin, and a pair of the most exquisite blue
eyes met my own. They were very close to my face, and the light of
comprehension filled them.
"I can also assure you that I'm damned if I didn't enjoy every moment
of it and I've just gotten you to stop swearing, so there is yet
another bad example I'm setting..." he whispered, a mischievous grin
lighting his features, as he impishly tweaked my hair.
I sighed, and all despair left me as quickly as it had come. Darling
rogue, how could I have doubted him? I thought, and I flashed him a
joyous smile, mocking a curtsy.
Then he grew serious once more, and stepped back, "Serena, never, ever,
believe that I don't cherish every single moment I spend with you, but
your parents have entrusted you to my care and guidance."
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and continued, "I cannot go back
on the promise I made to your father the day I came here, that I would
teach you and guide you. This is about honor, and keeping one's word,
and I cannot dishonor you or myself by letting us act with abandon.
Please never doubt how much I lo...care for you, but it is a matter of
principle for me to not act on that concern."
"Yes, Darien, I understand," I replied, smiling gently.
So the next two months were perfectly wonderful. Granted, it was a
little disconcerting that physically, Darien seemed to avoid me like
the plague, and just cheekily gave my hair a playful tug whenever I
pouted at him for being such an "fussy old fogey" about the whole matter.
And yet, secretly, I admired him so much for it. His eyes were
always gentle and loving when he gazed at me, but he held true to his
promise of honor and never once betrayed my parents' trust by so much
as touching my hand with his own. He continued to hammer Latin, French,
mathematics, civics, music, etiquette and everything else into my head,
but unlike before, I listened, fascinated by how much he knew about
anything under the stars. I had never noticed before, having been too
busy trying to figure out what new prank I could play to make his life
a living nightmare.
That is not to say, however, that we didn't still argue- heavens no!
For us to cease fire would be like for Mother to announce that she
wanted to become a bandit. We quarreled as much as always, about
everything- the weather, how overbearing he was, how easily I got
distracted, how arrogantly he strutted about as he recited a passage
from Virgil, how hopelessly clumsy I was (this after yet another fall
from the staircase, though he fortunately caught me before I could
break my neck).
But despite it all, things were different, and all his jokes at my
expense were tempered by the twinkle in his eyes and the spirit that
made it seem as though he was mocking himself as much as me. For my
part, I miraculously became more graceful and all (well, most) of the
"accidental" ink spills in his direction stopped, as did the attempts
to make Tempest throw him from the saddle by means of a well-aimed
pebble.
The only thing that marred the sweet perfection of those days was the
three words my heart kept waiting to hear... and yet, somehow, they
never graced those dear lips I had learned to love.
* * * * *
Where is that frustrating man? I thought yet again, this time with
much more irritation than good-natured annoyance. I'm beginning to
salivate over that turkey, and Mother insists we can't start until he
decides to honor us with his exalted presence!
I contented myself with annoying Sammy for a few more minutes as
Father discussed something with Mother, but that endeavor quickly
became boring, and finally I rose, throwing my napkin on the table.
Mother looked startled, as was to be expected.
Argh, taking his own sweet time, is he? Well, I'm going to let him
know exactly what I think of his insensitivity, I thought angrily as
I stomped into the hall, leaving my scandalized parents staring after
me.
I stood at the foot of the staircase and cleared my throat to ensure
that my voice would reach that fool wherever he might be, including
Japan.
"Darien Shields, you come down here this instant, or I will not be held
responsible for what I do to you!!" I hollered as loudly as was humanly
possible.
Swish, thud! Oh, lovely, Mother had decided to swoon.
"Serenity Tsukino, what is the MATTER with you? Screaming at the top
of your lungs, and inside the house, no less?! I'm ashamed... so this
is what years of seminary and Darien's tutelage have taught you!" I
could just see my father's face turning delightfully purple in the next
room as he rushed to attend to my mother.
"Sorry, Father," I said, trying to fill my voice with as much artificial
repentance as possible. Maybe a loud whisper was a better option.
"Darien, I refuse to take anymore of this; besides, trying to whisper
this loudly hurts my throat! Get down here this minute!"
No answer. I could just hear my vocal chords protesting against the
injustice of it all.
"Fine, when I wake up MUTE in the morning, I'll have you to thank for
it!" I yelled, deciding that Father's rages weren't enough to keep me
from letting that fool know what I thought of him, loud and clear.
Silence.
(Save for the sound of my father clumsily trying to find the smelling
salts and revive my unconscious mother as Sammy looked on in a daze-
one would think he'd be used to scenes like this by now.)
That was the last straw- the least Darien could do was honor me with
some sort of indication that he had heard me! He was bloody well going
to find out I was less than pleased; I plodded up the steps, and not
even that treacherous broken stair (which I had given up hope of ever
seeing repaired) could detain me from my mission.
My skirts swished emphatically as I whirled to the right and stomped
down the hall with such momentum that when I reached the perpetrator's
room, I had to hold onto the door frame to keep from sliding across
the far-too smooth floor.
"Darien!" I shouted loudly again, standing in a rather imposing stance
with hands on my hips in his doorway. Now there was absolutely NO
excuse for a lack of response, yet my infuriated call still received
no reply. He was probably bathing, for the room was empty, and the
door on the opposite side was closed; he was probably just refusing
to respond simply because he knew it would aggravate me. However,
verification of this theory (by way of opening said bathroom door)
was probably not quite so advisable, I resolved, while fighting off
the disappointment that my ladylike scruples had once again won the
battle against wicked impulses.
I stood there for a few moments, trying to settle on a new course of
action to make that fool learn just WHO he was standing up for dinner,
when something caught my eye. On the floor a few feet away from me
was a beautiful leather-bound book, a shiny brass clasp holding it
closed.
Instantly, my curiosity was piqued, and I quietly walked over and
kneeled on the ground before it, mindful of the fact that I was
technically not even supposed to be in Darien's room- the rules of
decorum did not allow a young lady to enter a young man's room
unaccompanied. But then again, I hadn't even considered technicalities
and proprieties two months ago, when I brazenly kissed him on top of
the king's fountain and thus rushed headlong into a relationship that
was...err...well, more than my parents intended, I reasoned, so why
fuss over decorum this late in the game? Besides, that was his job,
not mine.
Having reassured myself with this justification, I stared at the book,
which appeared to be a journal of some sort, judging by its similarity
to the diaries I'd seen in school. Again, I was at a crossroads. But
this was entirely different- no proprieties holding me back here, but
the fact that Darien trusted me completely, and the fact that opening
his journal without his knowledge and consent was effectively destroying
that slowly cultivated and very precious trust.
Two spirits settled themselves comfortably on either of my shoulders;
on my right was a tiny Serenity garbed in a beautiful virginal white
gown and with a pair of tiny wings and a golden halo. On my left
shoulder was a Serena in a shockingly low-cut ruby red gown that might
have been donned by the town badwoman, but never a lady of good breeding.
She looked curiously like Lucifer's sister, if he had one, and there
was a gleam of unholy mischief in her dancing blue eyes, where the other
Serenity's eyes were purely innocent and round.
The white Serenity whispered reproachfully that I ought to do right by
the man I claimed to love so dearly, put the fallen book on the desk,
and skip out of the room. The scarlet-gown-bedecked Serena whispered
in my other ear that I ought to read it, and serve Darien right for
carelessly leaving it lying around, when he so often preached about the
importance of organization and self-possession.
Both arguments had their merit, but somewhere in me, I felt that I
simply HAD to know what was in that journal, and it was this inner
instinct, wrong and immoral as it might be, that finally made me flick
off the angelic Serenity as my father flicked dust from his shoulder.
My insatiably curious and naughty side wanted to know what he'd
written about, and if I were really honest with myself, specifically
what he had written about ME- what fun to discover exactly how much he
cared.
He had certainly never once favored me with that knowledge, I thought
sadly, but maybe he was afraid to, perhaps he written the beautiful,
dear words here. And it was this thought that finally convinced me
to throw caution and principle to the wind. How could I, misguided
fool that I was, have known how many other things I would lose to that
wind of folly?
With a furtive glance around, I picked it up slowly, silently promising
myself that I would just peek inside for a moment and then replace it.
I undid the clasp on the front of the book, trying to look as casual
and innocent about it as possible, and flipped the cover and several
pages back.
*****
October 23
Extensive search of files in left desk drawer- all documents appear to
be in order, contents lack suspicious material, province tax accounts
indicate accuracy.
*****
I was completely confused. What documents were in order? Which left
desk drawer? Surely he couldn't mean...no, of course not, I thought,
shaking my head as though to rid myself of such idiotic notions. Why
would Darien be searching desk drawers? And whose desk drawers? What
'suspicious material' was he seeking out? The only desk I could think
of was the one in Father's office...surely Darien wouldn't be rifling
through it- why would he?
I flipped more pages, and caught sight of mysterious phrases like
"tavern meeting" and "cover-up duties" and "clandestine nature of
mission jeopardized" and "no clear indications of foul play." What did
it all mean? I sat there, completely puzzled, trying to sort through
what I knew.
Suddenly, my blood turned to ice water, and the room spun frighteningly
about me. As I frenziedly turned pages and read bits here and there,
my brain screamed out that I had been vilely deceived- not only me, but
my parents, my family, all of us! Darien was a...was a... spy!
His job as my tutor was a façade; I was a 'cover-up duty!' When I had
walked into the office that morning, and he had looked so guilty for
that one moment, the 'clandestine nature' of his mission had been
'jeopardized.' The few times he had mysteriously disappeared during
dinners- he had been at the Crossroads 'tavern meeting'...meeting
whoever it was he was spying with or for! Oh gods, it was all a lie!
A nightmarish, glaring...
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
I gasped from sheer shock and sprang to my feet. Turning around, my
heart stopped as I slowly looked up into the coldly furious eyes of
the man who had been coolly lying to me and everyone else for nearly
the past year.
"You sneaky minx! Give me that, you little fool! Thought you'd snoop
around in my things, did you?" he asked in a voice that shook with rage
for all its quietness, as he snatched the open journal from my hand.
As speechless as I had been to see him, all the more dangerous and large
in his fury, looming above me, that epithet gave me back use of my tongue.
"Me?! You DARE come back here and call me a sneaky minx? Who in hell
has been lying to whom for the last year? Who has been professing
concern for my welfare, my education, my everything? Who took me in his
arms on top of a damn fountain in the king's palace and kissed me
senseless? Who betrayed my trust, stole everything that truly mattered
to me, and broke it to bits?" By now I was crying as I spoke in hushed,
furious whispers, tears of rage and pain streaming freely down my face.
The book fell from his hands, and slipped to the ground, unheeded by
either of us, and he unconsciously gripped my shoulders as his eyes
snapped with quivering anger.
"Who," I gasped for breath, choking on the endless sobs that filled my
throat, "Who crept into my room in the dead of the night, and swore
that I was the most important thing in his life?" I grabbed the
lapels of his shirt and tugged roughly, demanding, "And who, the very
next day, preached to me about the folly of our behavior, about he
had to honor my parents' trust in him? Trust?! TRUST?! You wouldn't
know trust if you met it in the street!"
"I don't know what trust is? You're one to talk, madam, considering
that if you valued it so much, you wouldn't even be here screaming at
me! You thought it might be fun to explore my belongings, did you not,
my little hypocrite, when you KNEW you had no right to? How in God's
name is that honesty?" His eyes had darkened to near-black and they
glittered with barely-suppressed violence.
I staggered back, half-afraid and half-incensed, but the realization
that he was right about my hypocrisy was quickly shoved away by my
intense sorrow that he hadn't meant one word, one gesture in all the
time he had been here, in all the time I had been slowly falling in
love with him.
Strange, how even though we both spoke in hushed tones, mindful of
ears around the house, the words themselves were full of enough force
to destroy everything.
Trembling from head to foot, I choked out, "You low-down, cowardly,
two-faced... I can't even think of anything bad enough to call you!"
Frustrated at the inadequacy of my words, I gave him a resounding slap
across the face, and found mixed comfort and horror at the red print
of my palm on his face, pale even under his tan.
"I advise you NOT to try that again, or I shall be forced to end my
policy of never laying a hand on a woman," he growled in a low voice,
black eyes filling with something I couldn't understand, "Spoiled
little brat, how in hell could you understand what is at stake? Stars
above, Merylia's entire future..."
His voice grew even quieter, even more dangerous, "Tax fraud isn't a
petty little tidbit to giggle over with your dizzy friends- it means
greed, and the corruption that greed spells can destroy empires! Have
you learnt nothing from me at all about the fall of the great dynasties?
Of course, how could you? Your head's too full of your own pleasures,
your own wants, to ever think of anyone else, let alone something as
lofty as the destiny of this kingdom!"
"There's more than one type of corruption- what about betrayal?" I
countered, stung by the harshness of his words, "Betrayal of a person
who loves you, LOVES you- isn't that treason as much as cheating on
taxes? Or does that not figure into your worldly, high-handed moral
philosophy?"
"Nice try, but you can't accuse me of any breach of trust you aren't
guilty of yourself, my dear," he remarked cuttingly. "And, by the way,
there's no such thing as love, so you'd best be ridding yourself of
that romantic misconception- the sooner, the better," he finished,
stabbing my heart one last time, and twisting his gold-hilted dagger
painfully for effect.
"You...you monster..," I whispered, shaking my head slowly, unwilling
to believe that he could profane that which I held most dear- my
feelings for him. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and as the
salty sweet taste of blood filled my mouth, I closed my eyes,
unwilling to spare another glance at the...the creature standing before
me.
"Get out."
He simply bent over and picked up his cursed journal. I opened my eyes,
to meet his, filled with some emotion, some expression I couldn't fathom.
"I said, get OUT. And don't ever come back," my voice wavered, but
the words were deadly.
He looked at me in such a way as he never had before- and with that gaze,
he stole everything I had left of the old Serena, and left in her place
a stranger. Then, without another word, he stormed out.
As the thudding of his tall leather boots slowly faded into the
distance, I felt the glow that had enveloped me in its golden warmth
for two beautiful months leave the same way, fading into the distance,
lost with Darien, forever.
My back sank against the wall, and slowly, painfully, I slid to the
ground. My whole frame shivered desperately, for suddenly, it was
cold. So cold. Ugly, harsh sobs left my throat, in a voice I couldn't
even recognize. It was as though someone else was snatching the
lifeblood from yet someone else's screaming body, and I was simply
sitting there, my knees crushed to my chest, watching. And horrifyingly,
that someone and their victim, at first only shadows, gradually
turned into a terribly handsome man with intense blue eyes, his hands
tearing cries of agony from a girl with miles of golden hair, her
body crumpled on the floor.
It was much later when padded, soft footsteps suddenly reached my
tired ears, and I pulled my hands from a tear-streaked, deathly pale
face, only to look into the kind features of Luna, her eyes filled
with quiet sympathy and shared pain. She kneeled before me, and after
placing a small, gentle kiss on my forehead, silently left as quickly
as she had entered. Once again, I was alone with the merciless nymph
of sorrow, sinister because of her intangibility, she who I could only
face by myself.
As I had sat there and wept, spilling out whatever was left of my heart,
everything had started to fall into place, a jigsaw puzzle of lies and
deception. The sudden disappearances, the pallor of his face that
morning when I caught him unawares, the reluctance to speak of his past-
it all made such hideously perfect sense, and the truth had set me free.
Free of love, free of happiness, free of everything that truly mattered.
"There's no such thing as love..."
I don't remember how I managed to pick myself up and leave that room-
that room I felt I could never enter again, the hallowed room that
saw the most wrenching, destructive moments of my life.
And yet somehow, I was in my own bed later that night, in a restless
sleep. My eyelashes still gleamed with the cruel shine that tears
always seem to leave behind.
*I walk, dragging him with me...it is pouring, and my sight is
completely blurred for the drops that fill my eyes...we have to get
there, have to find them, for with them is safety, warmth, laughter
and light. But how impossible, how far away they are! Every step is
the step of a tiny ant, trying to cross an endless chasm of rain, and
cold that bites me without mercy. Cruel, strident laughter fills the
air but I have to keep moving, have to keep hold of his hand, for
without me, he would be lost. And losing him would mean losing myself,
too. And that can't happen- they are waiting, who knows where, but
they are waiting, and they have to be found. The laughter grows louder,
more threatening as I tiredly, brokenly drag him behind me, barely
having the energy to step around the endless trees, so tall, so dark,
like stone walls. And then, there is a dull, thudding sound...I
desperately try to forget it, keep moving, for if I stop, we die. But
it becomes more insistent, more powerful, I scream...*
She sat straight up, drops of hot, frightened sweat coursing down her
face, tears smearing her already deadened eyes. The thudding, for it
was very real, continued, and she stifled a terrified gasp with
difficulty. It was coming from downstairs, sounded like someone were
roughly pounding on the door. Her breath caught in her throat...but
no, never, that was hoping for too much...hadn't she just learned the
price to be paid for hoping?
Fearing her thoughts would betray her further, she clutched her robe
around her, and soundlessly ran down the hall, and carefully avoided
the broken stair as she pattered down the staircase. Clearly everyone
else was too sound asleep to have heard the noise from outside- no
surprise, she thought grimly, since somehow her whole family and host
of servants, with the exception of her and Luna, could sleep through
the most violent thunderstorm- she knew, she'd seen it.
With some trepidation, she turned the gleaming brass lock on the tall
wood door, and opened it just a crack, past memories of a rather similar
situation painfully filling her mind.
Icy cold wind swept into the foyer- the potent, determined wind that
only a snowstorm can bring. But this was lost on Serena, and all
memories and thoughts fled when she saw what lay on the other side of
the door.
morning lesson. Darien was sitting at the large mahogany desk, and he
started when I entered the room. His handsomely tanned face turned a
little pale, and he shuffled the papers on the desk haphazardly as he
rose to greet me.
" 'Morning, Darien," I said shyly as I curtsied. The pallor of his
face had confused me, for why would he look so...guilty? But then I
realized what must have returned to the fore of his mind upon my
appearance.
"Good Morning, Serena," he returned smoothly with a smile, bowing
deeply.
"Darien... about last night..." I began, determining to clear the air,
for the previous evening's events were still more than a little
startling to us both, I knew.
"Yes, I've been meaning to discuss that with you," he began in a
slightly muted tone, after he cleared his throat, "Serena, it was
extremely inappropriate for me to...to sneak into your room as I did,
and even to kiss you in public, and in the king's palace, no less. It
was unseemly behavior on my part, as I am supposed to be educating you
in the matters of moral clarity and decorum, as well as everything else,
and that was very hypocritical of me, after all my lectures to you
about conducting yourself like a lady. I can assure you that I shall
not allow such misconduct ever again."
I suddenly felt very empty. Never again? Had it meant nothing to him,
save an excellent example of "unseemly behavior," then? I felt
something prick my eyes, and I shut them quickly, as I slowly nodded to
show that I understood, even if I didn't agree with a single word.
Suddenly, a hand lifted my chin, and a pair of the most exquisite blue
eyes met my own. They were very close to my face, and the light of
comprehension filled them.
"I can also assure you that I'm damned if I didn't enjoy every moment
of it and I've just gotten you to stop swearing, so there is yet
another bad example I'm setting..." he whispered, a mischievous grin
lighting his features, as he impishly tweaked my hair.
I sighed, and all despair left me as quickly as it had come. Darling
rogue, how could I have doubted him? I thought, and I flashed him a
joyous smile, mocking a curtsy.
Then he grew serious once more, and stepped back, "Serena, never, ever,
believe that I don't cherish every single moment I spend with you, but
your parents have entrusted you to my care and guidance."
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and continued, "I cannot go back
on the promise I made to your father the day I came here, that I would
teach you and guide you. This is about honor, and keeping one's word,
and I cannot dishonor you or myself by letting us act with abandon.
Please never doubt how much I lo...care for you, but it is a matter of
principle for me to not act on that concern."
"Yes, Darien, I understand," I replied, smiling gently.
So the next two months were perfectly wonderful. Granted, it was a
little disconcerting that physically, Darien seemed to avoid me like
the plague, and just cheekily gave my hair a playful tug whenever I
pouted at him for being such an "fussy old fogey" about the whole matter.
And yet, secretly, I admired him so much for it. His eyes were
always gentle and loving when he gazed at me, but he held true to his
promise of honor and never once betrayed my parents' trust by so much
as touching my hand with his own. He continued to hammer Latin, French,
mathematics, civics, music, etiquette and everything else into my head,
but unlike before, I listened, fascinated by how much he knew about
anything under the stars. I had never noticed before, having been too
busy trying to figure out what new prank I could play to make his life
a living nightmare.
That is not to say, however, that we didn't still argue- heavens no!
For us to cease fire would be like for Mother to announce that she
wanted to become a bandit. We quarreled as much as always, about
everything- the weather, how overbearing he was, how easily I got
distracted, how arrogantly he strutted about as he recited a passage
from Virgil, how hopelessly clumsy I was (this after yet another fall
from the staircase, though he fortunately caught me before I could
break my neck).
But despite it all, things were different, and all his jokes at my
expense were tempered by the twinkle in his eyes and the spirit that
made it seem as though he was mocking himself as much as me. For my
part, I miraculously became more graceful and all (well, most) of the
"accidental" ink spills in his direction stopped, as did the attempts
to make Tempest throw him from the saddle by means of a well-aimed
pebble.
The only thing that marred the sweet perfection of those days was the
three words my heart kept waiting to hear... and yet, somehow, they
never graced those dear lips I had learned to love.
* * * * *
Where is that frustrating man? I thought yet again, this time with
much more irritation than good-natured annoyance. I'm beginning to
salivate over that turkey, and Mother insists we can't start until he
decides to honor us with his exalted presence!
I contented myself with annoying Sammy for a few more minutes as
Father discussed something with Mother, but that endeavor quickly
became boring, and finally I rose, throwing my napkin on the table.
Mother looked startled, as was to be expected.
Argh, taking his own sweet time, is he? Well, I'm going to let him
know exactly what I think of his insensitivity, I thought angrily as
I stomped into the hall, leaving my scandalized parents staring after
me.
I stood at the foot of the staircase and cleared my throat to ensure
that my voice would reach that fool wherever he might be, including
Japan.
"Darien Shields, you come down here this instant, or I will not be held
responsible for what I do to you!!" I hollered as loudly as was humanly
possible.
Swish, thud! Oh, lovely, Mother had decided to swoon.
"Serenity Tsukino, what is the MATTER with you? Screaming at the top
of your lungs, and inside the house, no less?! I'm ashamed... so this
is what years of seminary and Darien's tutelage have taught you!" I
could just see my father's face turning delightfully purple in the next
room as he rushed to attend to my mother.
"Sorry, Father," I said, trying to fill my voice with as much artificial
repentance as possible. Maybe a loud whisper was a better option.
"Darien, I refuse to take anymore of this; besides, trying to whisper
this loudly hurts my throat! Get down here this minute!"
No answer. I could just hear my vocal chords protesting against the
injustice of it all.
"Fine, when I wake up MUTE in the morning, I'll have you to thank for
it!" I yelled, deciding that Father's rages weren't enough to keep me
from letting that fool know what I thought of him, loud and clear.
Silence.
(Save for the sound of my father clumsily trying to find the smelling
salts and revive my unconscious mother as Sammy looked on in a daze-
one would think he'd be used to scenes like this by now.)
That was the last straw- the least Darien could do was honor me with
some sort of indication that he had heard me! He was bloody well going
to find out I was less than pleased; I plodded up the steps, and not
even that treacherous broken stair (which I had given up hope of ever
seeing repaired) could detain me from my mission.
My skirts swished emphatically as I whirled to the right and stomped
down the hall with such momentum that when I reached the perpetrator's
room, I had to hold onto the door frame to keep from sliding across
the far-too smooth floor.
"Darien!" I shouted loudly again, standing in a rather imposing stance
with hands on my hips in his doorway. Now there was absolutely NO
excuse for a lack of response, yet my infuriated call still received
no reply. He was probably bathing, for the room was empty, and the
door on the opposite side was closed; he was probably just refusing
to respond simply because he knew it would aggravate me. However,
verification of this theory (by way of opening said bathroom door)
was probably not quite so advisable, I resolved, while fighting off
the disappointment that my ladylike scruples had once again won the
battle against wicked impulses.
I stood there for a few moments, trying to settle on a new course of
action to make that fool learn just WHO he was standing up for dinner,
when something caught my eye. On the floor a few feet away from me
was a beautiful leather-bound book, a shiny brass clasp holding it
closed.
Instantly, my curiosity was piqued, and I quietly walked over and
kneeled on the ground before it, mindful of the fact that I was
technically not even supposed to be in Darien's room- the rules of
decorum did not allow a young lady to enter a young man's room
unaccompanied. But then again, I hadn't even considered technicalities
and proprieties two months ago, when I brazenly kissed him on top of
the king's fountain and thus rushed headlong into a relationship that
was...err...well, more than my parents intended, I reasoned, so why
fuss over decorum this late in the game? Besides, that was his job,
not mine.
Having reassured myself with this justification, I stared at the book,
which appeared to be a journal of some sort, judging by its similarity
to the diaries I'd seen in school. Again, I was at a crossroads. But
this was entirely different- no proprieties holding me back here, but
the fact that Darien trusted me completely, and the fact that opening
his journal without his knowledge and consent was effectively destroying
that slowly cultivated and very precious trust.
Two spirits settled themselves comfortably on either of my shoulders;
on my right was a tiny Serenity garbed in a beautiful virginal white
gown and with a pair of tiny wings and a golden halo. On my left
shoulder was a Serena in a shockingly low-cut ruby red gown that might
have been donned by the town badwoman, but never a lady of good breeding.
She looked curiously like Lucifer's sister, if he had one, and there
was a gleam of unholy mischief in her dancing blue eyes, where the other
Serenity's eyes were purely innocent and round.
The white Serenity whispered reproachfully that I ought to do right by
the man I claimed to love so dearly, put the fallen book on the desk,
and skip out of the room. The scarlet-gown-bedecked Serena whispered
in my other ear that I ought to read it, and serve Darien right for
carelessly leaving it lying around, when he so often preached about the
importance of organization and self-possession.
Both arguments had their merit, but somewhere in me, I felt that I
simply HAD to know what was in that journal, and it was this inner
instinct, wrong and immoral as it might be, that finally made me flick
off the angelic Serenity as my father flicked dust from his shoulder.
My insatiably curious and naughty side wanted to know what he'd
written about, and if I were really honest with myself, specifically
what he had written about ME- what fun to discover exactly how much he
cared.
He had certainly never once favored me with that knowledge, I thought
sadly, but maybe he was afraid to, perhaps he written the beautiful,
dear words here. And it was this thought that finally convinced me
to throw caution and principle to the wind. How could I, misguided
fool that I was, have known how many other things I would lose to that
wind of folly?
With a furtive glance around, I picked it up slowly, silently promising
myself that I would just peek inside for a moment and then replace it.
I undid the clasp on the front of the book, trying to look as casual
and innocent about it as possible, and flipped the cover and several
pages back.
*****
October 23
Extensive search of files in left desk drawer- all documents appear to
be in order, contents lack suspicious material, province tax accounts
indicate accuracy.
*****
I was completely confused. What documents were in order? Which left
desk drawer? Surely he couldn't mean...no, of course not, I thought,
shaking my head as though to rid myself of such idiotic notions. Why
would Darien be searching desk drawers? And whose desk drawers? What
'suspicious material' was he seeking out? The only desk I could think
of was the one in Father's office...surely Darien wouldn't be rifling
through it- why would he?
I flipped more pages, and caught sight of mysterious phrases like
"tavern meeting" and "cover-up duties" and "clandestine nature of
mission jeopardized" and "no clear indications of foul play." What did
it all mean? I sat there, completely puzzled, trying to sort through
what I knew.
Suddenly, my blood turned to ice water, and the room spun frighteningly
about me. As I frenziedly turned pages and read bits here and there,
my brain screamed out that I had been vilely deceived- not only me, but
my parents, my family, all of us! Darien was a...was a... spy!
His job as my tutor was a façade; I was a 'cover-up duty!' When I had
walked into the office that morning, and he had looked so guilty for
that one moment, the 'clandestine nature' of his mission had been
'jeopardized.' The few times he had mysteriously disappeared during
dinners- he had been at the Crossroads 'tavern meeting'...meeting
whoever it was he was spying with or for! Oh gods, it was all a lie!
A nightmarish, glaring...
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
I gasped from sheer shock and sprang to my feet. Turning around, my
heart stopped as I slowly looked up into the coldly furious eyes of
the man who had been coolly lying to me and everyone else for nearly
the past year.
"You sneaky minx! Give me that, you little fool! Thought you'd snoop
around in my things, did you?" he asked in a voice that shook with rage
for all its quietness, as he snatched the open journal from my hand.
As speechless as I had been to see him, all the more dangerous and large
in his fury, looming above me, that epithet gave me back use of my tongue.
"Me?! You DARE come back here and call me a sneaky minx? Who in hell
has been lying to whom for the last year? Who has been professing
concern for my welfare, my education, my everything? Who took me in his
arms on top of a damn fountain in the king's palace and kissed me
senseless? Who betrayed my trust, stole everything that truly mattered
to me, and broke it to bits?" By now I was crying as I spoke in hushed,
furious whispers, tears of rage and pain streaming freely down my face.
The book fell from his hands, and slipped to the ground, unheeded by
either of us, and he unconsciously gripped my shoulders as his eyes
snapped with quivering anger.
"Who," I gasped for breath, choking on the endless sobs that filled my
throat, "Who crept into my room in the dead of the night, and swore
that I was the most important thing in his life?" I grabbed the
lapels of his shirt and tugged roughly, demanding, "And who, the very
next day, preached to me about the folly of our behavior, about he
had to honor my parents' trust in him? Trust?! TRUST?! You wouldn't
know trust if you met it in the street!"
"I don't know what trust is? You're one to talk, madam, considering
that if you valued it so much, you wouldn't even be here screaming at
me! You thought it might be fun to explore my belongings, did you not,
my little hypocrite, when you KNEW you had no right to? How in God's
name is that honesty?" His eyes had darkened to near-black and they
glittered with barely-suppressed violence.
I staggered back, half-afraid and half-incensed, but the realization
that he was right about my hypocrisy was quickly shoved away by my
intense sorrow that he hadn't meant one word, one gesture in all the
time he had been here, in all the time I had been slowly falling in
love with him.
Strange, how even though we both spoke in hushed tones, mindful of
ears around the house, the words themselves were full of enough force
to destroy everything.
Trembling from head to foot, I choked out, "You low-down, cowardly,
two-faced... I can't even think of anything bad enough to call you!"
Frustrated at the inadequacy of my words, I gave him a resounding slap
across the face, and found mixed comfort and horror at the red print
of my palm on his face, pale even under his tan.
"I advise you NOT to try that again, or I shall be forced to end my
policy of never laying a hand on a woman," he growled in a low voice,
black eyes filling with something I couldn't understand, "Spoiled
little brat, how in hell could you understand what is at stake? Stars
above, Merylia's entire future..."
His voice grew even quieter, even more dangerous, "Tax fraud isn't a
petty little tidbit to giggle over with your dizzy friends- it means
greed, and the corruption that greed spells can destroy empires! Have
you learnt nothing from me at all about the fall of the great dynasties?
Of course, how could you? Your head's too full of your own pleasures,
your own wants, to ever think of anyone else, let alone something as
lofty as the destiny of this kingdom!"
"There's more than one type of corruption- what about betrayal?" I
countered, stung by the harshness of his words, "Betrayal of a person
who loves you, LOVES you- isn't that treason as much as cheating on
taxes? Or does that not figure into your worldly, high-handed moral
philosophy?"
"Nice try, but you can't accuse me of any breach of trust you aren't
guilty of yourself, my dear," he remarked cuttingly. "And, by the way,
there's no such thing as love, so you'd best be ridding yourself of
that romantic misconception- the sooner, the better," he finished,
stabbing my heart one last time, and twisting his gold-hilted dagger
painfully for effect.
"You...you monster..," I whispered, shaking my head slowly, unwilling
to believe that he could profane that which I held most dear- my
feelings for him. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and as the
salty sweet taste of blood filled my mouth, I closed my eyes,
unwilling to spare another glance at the...the creature standing before
me.
"Get out."
He simply bent over and picked up his cursed journal. I opened my eyes,
to meet his, filled with some emotion, some expression I couldn't fathom.
"I said, get OUT. And don't ever come back," my voice wavered, but
the words were deadly.
He looked at me in such a way as he never had before- and with that gaze,
he stole everything I had left of the old Serena, and left in her place
a stranger. Then, without another word, he stormed out.
As the thudding of his tall leather boots slowly faded into the
distance, I felt the glow that had enveloped me in its golden warmth
for two beautiful months leave the same way, fading into the distance,
lost with Darien, forever.
My back sank against the wall, and slowly, painfully, I slid to the
ground. My whole frame shivered desperately, for suddenly, it was
cold. So cold. Ugly, harsh sobs left my throat, in a voice I couldn't
even recognize. It was as though someone else was snatching the
lifeblood from yet someone else's screaming body, and I was simply
sitting there, my knees crushed to my chest, watching. And horrifyingly,
that someone and their victim, at first only shadows, gradually
turned into a terribly handsome man with intense blue eyes, his hands
tearing cries of agony from a girl with miles of golden hair, her
body crumpled on the floor.
It was much later when padded, soft footsteps suddenly reached my
tired ears, and I pulled my hands from a tear-streaked, deathly pale
face, only to look into the kind features of Luna, her eyes filled
with quiet sympathy and shared pain. She kneeled before me, and after
placing a small, gentle kiss on my forehead, silently left as quickly
as she had entered. Once again, I was alone with the merciless nymph
of sorrow, sinister because of her intangibility, she who I could only
face by myself.
As I had sat there and wept, spilling out whatever was left of my heart,
everything had started to fall into place, a jigsaw puzzle of lies and
deception. The sudden disappearances, the pallor of his face that
morning when I caught him unawares, the reluctance to speak of his past-
it all made such hideously perfect sense, and the truth had set me free.
Free of love, free of happiness, free of everything that truly mattered.
"There's no such thing as love..."
I don't remember how I managed to pick myself up and leave that room-
that room I felt I could never enter again, the hallowed room that
saw the most wrenching, destructive moments of my life.
And yet somehow, I was in my own bed later that night, in a restless
sleep. My eyelashes still gleamed with the cruel shine that tears
always seem to leave behind.
*I walk, dragging him with me...it is pouring, and my sight is
completely blurred for the drops that fill my eyes...we have to get
there, have to find them, for with them is safety, warmth, laughter
and light. But how impossible, how far away they are! Every step is
the step of a tiny ant, trying to cross an endless chasm of rain, and
cold that bites me without mercy. Cruel, strident laughter fills the
air but I have to keep moving, have to keep hold of his hand, for
without me, he would be lost. And losing him would mean losing myself,
too. And that can't happen- they are waiting, who knows where, but
they are waiting, and they have to be found. The laughter grows louder,
more threatening as I tiredly, brokenly drag him behind me, barely
having the energy to step around the endless trees, so tall, so dark,
like stone walls. And then, there is a dull, thudding sound...I
desperately try to forget it, keep moving, for if I stop, we die. But
it becomes more insistent, more powerful, I scream...*
She sat straight up, drops of hot, frightened sweat coursing down her
face, tears smearing her already deadened eyes. The thudding, for it
was very real, continued, and she stifled a terrified gasp with
difficulty. It was coming from downstairs, sounded like someone were
roughly pounding on the door. Her breath caught in her throat...but
no, never, that was hoping for too much...hadn't she just learned the
price to be paid for hoping?
Fearing her thoughts would betray her further, she clutched her robe
around her, and soundlessly ran down the hall, and carefully avoided
the broken stair as she pattered down the staircase. Clearly everyone
else was too sound asleep to have heard the noise from outside- no
surprise, she thought grimly, since somehow her whole family and host
of servants, with the exception of her and Luna, could sleep through
the most violent thunderstorm- she knew, she'd seen it.
With some trepidation, she turned the gleaming brass lock on the tall
wood door, and opened it just a crack, past memories of a rather similar
situation painfully filling her mind.
Icy cold wind swept into the foyer- the potent, determined wind that
only a snowstorm can bring. But this was lost on Serena, and all
memories and thoughts fled when she saw what lay on the other side of
the door.
