I do not know where Dad got the wait staff from. We never had servants around the manor, but as I looked over the elongated table I could not help but wonder as men and women in black pants and white shirts move from person to person. One reached me, and placed a plate holding a bright yellow quiche in front of me. Flecks of what I assumed was ham peppered the interior of the savory custard.
There was a clink of glass beside me. Dad was tasting a white wine that a server was offering. He sipped, nodded, and ordered the wine to be used. The army of people retrieved their bottles and began filling the glasses. When they got to me, I tapped their arm and whispered, "No wine, thank you." I got a quiet 'yes madam' before the server continued on to the woman beside me.
Clair lifted her glass to her nose and took a deep breath. "Not a fan of white wines?" She asked, eyeing me and my empty glass. Her question drew the attention of her father and a few of the other adults.
"I've never had it." I answered, fighting to keep the jittering of my heart from being echoed in my voice. "The laws in America are more stringent."
Monsieur Babineaux gave a hearty laugh and waved a server over. "Please pour her just a bit." He waved the man off and turned back to me. "It would be a shame to pass up the opportunity to at least try it. You live in a very different place now, Mademoiselle Dubois."
Dad's smile strained a bit as he whispered to the server. There was a nod, and my glass vanished form in front of me. "If you'll pardon me," I reached back and grabbed my glass back from the young man, "I don't think I'll have some. It would be wasted on me, I'm sure."
A lady sitting near Clair looked like she was going to argue with me, but she shrunk back when I directed my gaze to her and sat up straighter. There was a pregnant pause in all conversation until someone on the other end of the table began chuckling. "She has your stubbornness, Christophe." Dad nodded and looked back to me with a smile. He began taking small bites of his quiche. It seemed to be the signal to everyone else to tuck in, as the attention left me feeling much lighter. I took a bite of my own and was surprised to find a layer of melted Gruyere cheese, its flavor biting my tongue and sending a delicious trill across my senses. The meat within was bacon, which paired well with the cheese and egg custard.
I had barely finished my plate when it was taken from me and I was left to fold my hands together and listen to the voices around me. The gentleman sitting beside Monsieur Babineaux's daughter called my name. "You mentioned America. Where were you living?"
"New York State, monsieur." I answered, raising my water goblet up and taking a drink.
He hummed and smiled. "I've had the pleasure to visit the region. You enjoyed it there, didn't you Babette?"
The woman on his arm drew her attention to him, then to me. "Oh yes. The city was delightful, and the small towns nearby were very friendly."
"I found the city disgusting." An older voice chimed in from further down. "So dirty and unappealing."
The two men began arguing, but it seemed that Babette wanted to talk more. She dabbed her napkin to the corner of her mouth and looked back to me. "Did you live further north?"
My mind began screaming, demanding I give an indirect answer as to conceal Cardend. There was no reason for this party of privilege to know my origins. Still, I looked at woman and found myself unable to lie. "I lived in a suburb outside of New York City."
Her eyes lit up, as did Clair's and a few other people who had been listening. "Living in the heart of Paris must be such a change."
"Not such a large one as changing countries." I insisted. The comment gained some laughter. "Paris is certainly beautiful."
"Of course it is." The older man from before huffed. "We take care of our homes. No one wants to live in a cesspool-"
His words were cut off by the head server announcing that dinner was ready. I was grateful for the shift in attention. My face hurt from smiling so much. Slowly the food was distributed, plates full of linguini and tomato sauce. Topping it all was a golden brown breaded meat that held some melted mozzarella and shaved parmigiana. The smell was divine, making my mouth water. The wine glasses were removed and replaced with identical glasses. They were promptly filled with a dark red wine that seemed to have some sediments that sunk to the bottom.
I reached for my silverware but quickly drew my hand back when I saw the tremors that were wracking my fingers. Breathe, Minta. Air was forced into my lungs as I steadied myself and took up the fork and knife. I had foolishly hoped that this part of the meal would be quiet, but it seemed these people were not done with me. Grainne, I recognized her voice from its soft lilt, called my name from further down the table. "Do you still have family over in the states?"
I had to think about how many of them I was willing to claim. "Yes, my grandmother."
"Were you living with her?"
My fork nearly fell out of my grip as the question was asked. I wish. "No. I lived with my mother." Gramma would have wanted to keep me alive. I bit my tongue to keep the flood of bitterness that threatened to overtake me. My appetite left me with the confession, but I still had bites of the food before me.
Someone tried to ask me about her, but Dad curved attention away from me by asking someone about their time in some region of Africa. Quickly people were enraptured with the descriptions of such an exotic place, and their lush jungles and vast plains. When the servers came about to take the plates away, I whispered to mine and requested that my plate be saved for later. He nodded before disappearing. The tremors started to affect my arms and I fought to hid them by folding my hands just above the table line.
Dessert was not noteworthy as I was too busy trying not to let my heart's screams be heard by the people around me nor seen in the shaking of my body. I felt a nudge to my ribs and I looked over to see Dad giving me a serious look. He mouthed something that looked like 'Are you okay?' and I gave the slightest shake of my head. His hand shot into the air and a server approached him quickly. Whatever was said between them was important based on Dad's tightened jaw muscles and narrowed eyes.
I nearly jumped when he suddenly rose to his feet. A huge smile was set on his face, crinkling his eyes only slightly. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've been sitting for far too long. Shall we move to the parlor? I'll send for coffee and liqueur." Happy murmurs filled the room as people dropped their spoons and vacated the room. I moved to follow them when Dad grabbed my elbow. "Honey, why don't you go to bed? I think you've earned some alone time." He said, his voice softer and lower than the tone he had been using throughout the night.
"But your boss-"
"Let me deal with him." His eyes dart to the side as a shadow of anger passed over his features. It fled as he looked back to me, smiling slightly while pressing a kiss against my head. Tears began tracing my cheeks, leaving a salty trail down to my chin. I threw my arms around him and whispered praises into his vest.
Dad walked with me until we reached the staircase. He let go of my arm and I floated up the stairs. By the time I had turned to wish him a good night, he was already down the hall. The voices of the party members rang out, laughter teasing me as I closed my door.
A sob wracked my body. I leaned up against the solid wood and slowly sunk to my knees. My hand shook violently as I covered my mouth, a vain attempt to keep the shuddered breaths and pathetic hiccups in. Hot tears soaked my cheeks as every sound I had fought back came rushing out in a single burst of pain.
His presence filled the room before he spoke, a gentle calm amongst the chaos and confusion. Fabric crumpled as he got closer, the cold of his hand resting on my shoulder. My skin prickled as I felt a puff of air as he spoke, saying something that could not breach my all-consuming thoughts. I turned to him. I watched his eyes through the holes in the mask, waited to see them widen in surprise or overflow with pity. Instead, the amber reflected the blankness of his mask. He seemed focused on my face, not my tears. How he saw past the wide tracks was beyond me.
The air hummed as he spoke again. "Breathe, Minta." He commanded, and I obeyed. Breathing in, I wiped my cheeks. Out, and I was leaning against his body, absorbing the cold like one would the warmth of the fire. He grunted, shifting his position to adapt to the new weight, before placing his arm around behind me and sighing. "You're alright. Everything's okay, just breathe." The shaking subsided and soon it was just him and I, breathing together and remaining calm.
I do not suppose I should have found a heartbeat, yet I was still surprised by the lack of one in him. As my head laid against his chest, I found myself listening for the familiar ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that accompanied living things. My eyes fell to the black gown that still draped itself around me. "I need to change." The tremors still held my voice hostage.
"Of course," His voice came out in a whisper, gentle and sweet and only for me. His hands kept hold of my elbows as he helped lift me to my feet. One blink, and he vanished. The dress slipped off as easy as it came on. A blue t-shirt and plaid pants took charge of covering my body, and white slippers replaced the black heels. I whispered 'Monsieur,' and he reappeared near the window. Part of me began to wonder if he had ever left. Darkness was all that stopped my flushed face from being revealed.
He crossed the room, a cape flourishing behind him in dramatic fashion. "May I take you somewhere?" It seemed that the darkness that hid me only strengthened him, giving him the courage to raise his voice just above the whispers. The light from the window revealed his extended hand.
I should not have. I should have asked him if we could just stay here, in the warm, in the dark. Stood my ground. Refused to go anywhere without my father nearby. So why, why did I put my hand in his?
Hello~ everyone.
I know, I suck. I should've posted earlier, but here it is.
I will hopefully post again within a week, but we will see.
I am, always, your obedient servant,
E.V
