I like how,
You're not with me,
I like how,
I'm not with you.
I love how,
That's not the truth.
I love how,
Our sighs bring better proof,
That I'd like it more,
If you were mine.
That you would love me more,
If I were yours.
-me
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"S'ayapo" – Greek.
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Chapter Two: A Misty Forecast
There are an abundance of moments in a person's life when one enters a stage of panic and is able to convince themselves that they are dreaming. That when they awaken, the only threat they will face is their schedule being disrupted by their own laziness. But of course in most cases reality crashed these futile desires with an iron fist.
That's where Casey found herself, sitting on the floor of the study, a clipping of newspaper carelessly shoved in between her skirts somewhere, desperately praying that a large dark hole would swallow her, or she would awaken from this nightmare. The debate on which of the possibilities it could really be was halted by the figure in the doorway beginning to talk.
"Pardon madam, I have just stopped by here for some parchment you see…"
But of course! She said, with her luck it was obvious who it was going to be at the door. None other than the owner of this rather ghastly study.
"Oh yes, I-I just needed to be alone. I'm terribly sorry." She replied as she picked herself up from a rather comfortable position in the corner of this mans study. She believed that if she felt more ashamed than this, her cheeks would spontaneously combust in the night air.
"No, no, I'm sorry…..Casey?" The figure squinted and Casey almost jumped out of her skin. How the heck did he know her peasant name? Nobles were very efficient and they apparently researched well. Perhaps that's why there were newspaper clippings on her family on Lord Byron's desk?
"Umm yes!" She was astounded that the duke knew her name; she was just introduced to the society. These people didn't seem too ad any longer, they seemed to know everyone in their circle and recognize them right away. Something about that was welcoming.
'Your grace?' Atem thought with astonishment. Just a moment ago he was sure the only 'your grace' he'd get was a spit in the face and a very self absorbed 'humph' followed by her nose in the air.
"Well why are you here?" he inquired suspiciously, making the lady frown no doubt.
"Oh, I just got caught up in all the noise, I needed to be alone for a bit of a breather" Casey fabricated quite nicely. It wasn't a complete lie; she did need to get away from it all after what had occurred with Atem. The thought of him made her temper flare up again momentarily. She didn't know why this was affecting her so much….but it was.
"Okay….I see." He replied.
'Lord Byron is a rather odd fellow. Perhaps he used to be a friend to my family?' Casey thought and nodded moving to light a candle to bring light to the study. Something about talking to a stranger in the dark elevated her fears.
She found a match stick and struck it against the box, lighting the lantern and some of the candles nearby. She looked up to the older gentleman and almost fell backwards.
"YOU!"
Now that was what he was actually expecting. "Yes…me" Atem said slowly looking around the room in a perplexed manner. "OH. And who did you think I was?"
"Lor-" She began and then stopped herself just as quickly, "Oh what does it matter to you! What are you even doing here?" She inquired, rather annoyed that out of all the rooms in this mansion, he would stumble into this one.
"Oh, I just got caught up in all the noise; I needed to be alone for a bit of a breather." He mimicked her in an exaggerated manner. She rolled her eyes in response to this but said nothing in reply.
"I knew something was off about you! What are you doing in Lord Byron's study anyway?" Atem inquired with his rather egotistical tone.
Casey stomped her foot in a rather un-ladylike manner. But by this point she really didn't care for etiquette. It was rather the floor than the sorry excuse for a man in front of her. She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth, forcing herself to talk slowly and quietly. "It was the first room I could find when I went out into the hallway. It looked private enough and I didn't want to be bothered. Especially by you."
Atem chuckled and could've sworn he heard the lady in front of him grind her teeth. "Whatever you're trying to pull….you're not very good at it" He shrugged.
"THE DEUCE I AM!" Her temper slipped, "God! Why did I ever have to break of my dance with Jonathan to talk to the likes of you? I don't know what you might be pulling kind sir but, I, surely am NOT amused." She turned away from him to face the large window, her arms folded tightly as she struggled not to cry from frustration. What the deuce had she ever done to him to deserve such treatment? It was down right degrading, and just uncalled for. Another sigh escaped her lips as she saw that her words did have the desired affect of wiping the smirk off of Atem's features.
"Very well then." Atem said and turned towards the door. But he refused to allow her to have the last word so he said "mistress…" He could almost smell her anger from where he was standing, and it followed him into the main hall and out the door. He had enough of this event. He had to go home- some pondering was to be done.
"There you are!" Casey turned around to see her brother Derrick standing in the doorway looking quite puzzled. "We have been looking all over for you! It seems your sister has made quite the spectacle of herself and it's best to leave now. Although, I really can't blame her…."
"Oh no….what has she done this time?" She asked.
"Does the word 'candlestick' mean anything to you?"
Casey laughed all the way home; it seemed her nerved exaggerated every emotion after her meeting with her childhood friend. But that wasn't the only cause for her internal conflicts. The article that was stashed somewhere between her skirts was burning a hole, she had to act quickly.
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Atem had gotten home in record time, he was sure his coachman would plot some sort of murder on him sooner or later with the way he was urging to go faster. He needed to get back into his right mind. Seeing Kiy- no Casey had caused such an impact on the wall I had put up internally. The one that blocked any soft places in my heart that would protect me from such an assault as she had brought upon me,
And why had I allowed myself to treat her kindly during some of the moments that we had found each other in the same company tonight? Wasn't I resolute enough to not give in to any temptations? But truth was I was but a man… So the only thing there was to dull out the now vivid image of those green eyes was to pull out the infamous journal. But her eyes….they seemed to have looked right though him, they seemed to have broken every fort he had put up against them in his mind. He refused to admit that that was the same case for his heart.
With a bold and quick movement he opened the journal. The cursive letters felt like his blood as he read. Not stopping to ponder on the reason why he still had this journal after all these years.
Entry 10.
Do you know how opportunity comes knocking? Well opportunity got knocked out today. Yes, it was amusing as it sounded. I had met a man of position, of future wealth… a man that had caused me a mere scar on my shoulder. But it's worth it.
Too long had I spend on the streets, without a home, just my sister and me.
But guess what? He had befriended me. It's almost too perfect. It's true what they say- the rich should watch out for the poorer. But in my case, I'm glad that that didn't happen.
IT will be easy now; I can see it in his eyes. Although we're young…It'll be easy now.
-Casey
He could never get past this entry easily. His record was to read five of the entries that involved him as an object merely there for her benefit. In fact, the rage that consumed him when he had read even the first bit of that was so large that it knocked all rational thoughts over. He didn't stop to think that the carriage might've killed her if she were unlucky enough. He didn't consider the fact that the journal's location was just too strategically planned out when he had come across it. No, he had the flames of vengeance.
But now he had chanced upon her and god how she had grown up. When he was little he was already pulled into her beauty like a magnet. But now, it was an even greater attraction. Gone was the youthful girl figure, the very slender girl that used to hop across the river on rocks along with him. In her place stood a woman, a true woman, who was still slender, but had attained desirable full curves. And an hourglass figure that most other ladies would probably kill for.
No, he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist her. Or the spell she wove. As he lay there staring at the ceiling he decided upon his next course of actions.
Casey Kathingale of Ashville would become his mistress, his paramour. And moments after his smirk revived, he found sleep.
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The very day after her first ball, Casey gathered both her sister and brother into the sitting room.
"What's so urgent?" Derrick asked as he yawned and stretched, hitting his hand in the process and cursing under his breath.
"THIS!"
"Ummm 'Lady Lora finds herself another husband'?" Asked Elena, "Really Casey, if you're afraid of finding a husband or even a suitor you really should look at the mirror. GOSH look how irresistible you are!" she added trying to mend a perhaps broken self-esteem. Casey just laughed and flipped the paper over. It seemed a silence fell on the entire face of the earth.
"Where did you get that?" Derrick sounded angry. Elena looked to Casey; a look of alertness entered her eyes.