CHAPTER 14 – THINGS FALL APART

On his arrival at home a doctor was summoned and a barrage of tests were conducted, none of which were conclusive. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him, it is probably a stomach bug or 24-hour flu," was the conclusion, along with a prescription of plenty of fluids and bed rest.

Félix slept most of the afternoon. When he woke up he could hear Adrien practicing his piano in the distance. He thought he recognised Rachmaninoff's third piano concerto, a notoriously difficult piece. Even Adrian had to regularly stop and correct mistakes. Félix smiled to himself. It seemed that even Mr Perfection had his limits.

Félix stitched on the television and flicked through the channels. Most of them had repeated content or subject matter that didn't interest him. He paused when he reached the channel dedicated to history, one of Félix's favourite subjects. The show was about important pieces of jewelry through history. The show was discussing the importance of ankhs in Egyptian society, which Félix found mildly interesting. The next section of the programme had Félix riveted though – the influence of the Graham de Vanily rings on French aristocracy.

The programme delved into the alliances that had been secured through marriages in the Graham de Vanily history and how the rings passed on through the generations, helping to ensure that Graham de Vanily marriages lasted. This had helped the family build up considerable estates in Normandy and Champagne. Most of the material was known to Félix, but it was well researched and presented.

The piece ended by delving into the mythology of the rings. An expert spoke at length about the legendary power of the rings to bind love, before moving on to discuss the legend of a curse which would befall anyone who disrupted the rings in their function of binding love.

This was particularly interesting. The first time Félix had heard of the curse was when his uncle had mentioned it at dinner the other day. Félix had dismissed it at the time as a myth, but here was an independent expert confirming the story. Perhaps there was something more to it?

As the piece on the Graham de Vanily rings finished Félix suddenly felt a wave of nausea hitting him again. He raced for the bathroom. As a result, he missed the credits, which thanked the Agreste Foundation for sponsoring the entire programme.

-000-

Félix lay in bed groaning. Though he was feeling much better, he had been to the toilet three times in the space of an hour. For now his stomach seemed to have settled, but he felt washed-out and faint still. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," he called.

Adrien came into the room, a look of concern on his face. "How's the patient feeling?"

Félix sat up in his bed. "Much better, thanks, but I'm quite nervous about getting out of bed. I'm scared I'll go all queasy again."

Adrien pulled up a chair next to the bed.

"The worst thing is missing out on the fun outside," said Félix, looking out of his window at the beautiful Parisian sunset. "I've spent the last two afternoons cooped up in this bed."

"I take it you won't be joining me for dinner then?" asked Adrien.

"Hardly. I don't want to risk going downstairs. Plus I've been prescribed chicken soup. I hate chicken soup. You'll be having something fancy, which I'm going to want to eat, but which I can't. No, much as I hate being cooped up, it's best that I stay here and eat alone."

Adrian looked thoughtful. "Say, we can't have you up here all by yourself. How would you feel if I arranged for us to both have dinner up here? I don't mind chicken soup, so we can share in your misery together."

Félix closed his eyes. Damn. Why does he have to be so NICE all the time? He opened his eyes again.

"Thanks, that'll be nice."

"Anything for my brother," said Adrien, putting his hand comfortingly on Félix's shoulder.

"I've got an hour of Chinese class starting shortly, but I'll be up right after to join you for dinner. I'll make all the arrangements, you just rest."

-000-

Félix was having a nightmare. He was in the midst of a swirling hurricane. People all around him were dying and getting pulled into the air, whirling out of sight. His old nanny. His mother. His old friends. The swirling tempest battered him as his house, his old school, even his father's grave were sucked into the air by the swirling winds, never to be seen again. Then the winds began to pull at him. Items of clothing were sucked into the vortex, then the force of the wind began to disintegrate his flesh, which flew off into the black clouds around him.

Suddenly two rings appeared in the sky and a voice boomed out: "Beware the curse of the Graham de Vanily rings".

Félix sat bolt upright, his pyjamas soaked in sweat. Just a nightmare then.

He glanced at his watch. Only 20 minutes had passed since his cousin had spoken to him. He was feeling much better, but the dream had been incredibly realistic. Too realistic.

He lay back on his bed. Could there be something to the curse after all? He sat and thought of all his misfortune since he had stolen the ring.

There was his mother, lying in a deep coma two rooms from him. She showed no sign of recovery and Félix's stomach knotted as he thought about her lying helpless in her ICU bed. Even if she recovered, who knew what permanent damage could have been done to her health?

There was his house and his life in England, lying in tatters. It was only a matter of time before his home was demolished, and who knew when he would return to London and a semblance of familiarity?

There was the fact that he was in the house of the hated Agrestes, beholden to his unspoken enemies for his most basic needs. The fact that he was now in his uncle's debt sat like ash in his mouth.

And now it seemed that his health was on the decline. Though he felt fine at present, the last two days had shown him how fickle his health could be. Could he end up like his mother?

Maybe he was cursed. Such misfortune could surely not be pure chance?

Félix looked down at the disguised ring on his finger.

"Are you really worth it?" he whispered.

Félix thought of the Agrestes and tried to be impartial.

His uncle had spared no expense in ensuring that he and his mother were well cared for.

His cousin had been kind, caring, generous – many qualities that his own friends lacked. He realised with shame that his hatred for Adrien was nothing more than jealousy.

And at the end of the day, Adrien had just as good a claim as he did to the Graham de Vanily rings. His mother was the eldest of the twin sisters and if she was still alive as Gabriel believed then she and Gabriel had every right to keep the rings.

Félix looked down. His uncle would be furious, but owning up to his malfeasance was the first step to redemption. He stood up. His uncle would almost certainly be in his study.

-000-

Félix walked down the long corridor towards his uncle's study. The marble floor was deliciously cool on his feet. His spirit felt lighter too as he prepared to make right his wrong. His face looked serene.

He could hear his father talking to his assistant as he approached the door.

"So the symptoms are exactly as expected?" he heard his uncle ask.

"Yes sir, severe nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, faint spells. He is sleeping right now."

Félix stopped outside the door and thought furiously to himself. What did his uncle mean by his symptoms were "EXPECTED"?!

"The potion has served us well then," continued Gabriel. "I would like him unconscious tomorrow, with a slight recovery in the afternoon. Not a full recovery mind, mere consciousness. An inability to speak or move should be enough to convince him that the curse is real. We can keep him like that for a few days before giving him a chance to come clean."

"Entirely possible sir. He is having soup in about half an hour with Adrien in his room, I'll bring the food up personally and make sure to leave a little … something extra … in his bowl."

Félix's mind whirled as he tried to process what he had just heard. Gabriel was far more Machiavellian than he could ever have thought possible.

"I'm not cursed after all" he suddenly thought to himself.

Félix turned from the doorway and strode with purpose back to his room. His mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. Any thought of reconciling with the Agrestes fled to the furthest recess of his mind.