"The Pianist"
~Chapter Fifteen~
The bed is soft; definitely softer than what she has at home. Home, oh...she misses it. Her siblings fighting over who has done what chore and whose turn it is to do it next; Gabriella settles it by having them work together always. Her mother, whose been sick in the last year and is now better, would join her side as her father - always on the younger children's side - would always stand by the youngest ones. The older women won each time. Snuggling deeper into her blankets, she closes her eyes tightly; curling herself into a small huddled ball. Dreaming of home.
Home cooked bread, porridge and goat's milk from Mildred the family goat.
And then that disruptive knocking at the door wakes her from her pleasant nap and pleasant dreams. Biting her lip, she tosses the covers away from her and crawls out of the huge, luxurious bed. At times, this is...the room of her dreams; where she has always thought that she was meant to be..but she misses home. That small cottage that is nearly filled to the walls and roof and rafters with a large family. A large loving family.
"Mademoiselle!" more knocking. "Supper is nearly done and almost served, are you prepared for it?" No, she's not, but she is not about to be rude and stay up here all night. Then again...can't she claim she's fallen ill? She shakes her head, no, cause then Lorana and David would call for the healer and the healer - bless his soul - is already tending her father. Suffocating a yawn, she goes to the door and opening to reveal the right side of her face- a poor reason for hiding the monstrosity of her left side is that she has no reason; she just doesn't want it seen.
Perhaps that is why Troy being blind is a blessing. "Uhm...what is for supper?" She asks the servant, the man smiles at her and bows his head slightly; there's an urge to tell him that is not necessary, that she isn't royalty but she bites her lip and waits for him to straighten himself back to an erect position. He smiles at her still.
"The chef's special. Are you ready for supper? Do I need to send a lady maid?" She bites her lip and shakes her head. Her curls flying about her head and face, a mane of brown - almost raven - locks. The servant sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'll tell chef to set an extra plate ready, and...Master Troy will be pleased to know that you're joining us-"
"Troy?" She says, why does her heart skip a beat at his name? Her skin itch for his touch even if she is wearing a gown?
"Yes, ma'am...he has been wondering if you are joining us-"
"Oh," she knows she must speak with him. But...perhaps she can put it off a while longer. "uhm...suddenlyI feel...a little ill, can-can I take my supper in my room?" Yes, that's an exceptional excuse. Illness; but hopefully the healer won't think anything of it and come up to check on her. The servants face scrunches and his brows knit together as if in a deep thought; she bites her lip and hopes to Lord Almighty in Heaven that she looks ill; with the way her heart is fluttering in her stomach and chest, she certainly feels that way.
"Should I get the healer-"
"No!" She says to quickly, clearing her throat quickly and recovering her blunder. "It's not er, not that kind of sickness. Just a touch of dizziness." If the servant doubts her excuse, he doesn't show it, he just nods and turns on his heel after wishing her wellness for the evening. She shuts the door quietly and leans against it; closing her eyes to draw in a breath to calm her racing heart and the butterflies in her stomach that refuse to be squelched.
His foot is bouncing; more than a toddler who has been given too much sugar. He's never been anxious before, okay, well that's a lie; he has been, but never htis anxious. And just because he's blind doesn't mean that he can't feel his mother and his father and Gabriella's father's gaze on him. This is why he always takes supper in his chamber, why? Because he isn't stared at like this. Never.
Perhaps he should've just took supper in his chamber; what possessed him to join everyone in the dining room? The handle jostles and every muscle in his body tightens as he imagines Gabriella walking into the dining room, sitting next to him- seeing as he made sure that the only seat available is by him. He sucks in a breath and fists his hands into tight balls; his knuckles turn white at the effort he is using to squeeze his bodies tension into his hands- there is one part of his body that has tension that no amount of knuckle squeezing can get rid of.
And that's the most painful tension a man could ever endure. "Uh.." a masculine voice, that...is not Gabriella and every muscle in his body tensed for reasons of ...well, reasons that he knows naught of. "Miss Montez is-"
"Yes?" David says, Troy bites his lip. "What about her?"
"She is not feeling well, so she has requested to take supper in her room." Bollocks. Troy let's out a breath, wishing he could see more than human shadows at this point; damn those witches.
"Oh my," he hears his mother's voice chirp; how sympathetic of her, he can just see in his head how she puts her hands over her bosom and her eyes shine with an immense and suffocating sympathy. "I hope she's not feeling to dreadful."
"I should check on her." Gregor pipes in, Troy hears his chair scoot back and then a slight wince of short pain.
"No." Says the unfamiliar voice the usually seen-and-not-heard healer, "Mister Montez, sir, you are still recovering from your injuries; being down here is too much a risk cause you had to move, but going up-"
"She's my daughter," Gregor says, "I'm going to check on her." Admiration for the man makes Troy mentally see the bond between Gabriella and her father; how driven the man was to search the woods for her and take her back home. He sighs, folding his hands in his lap as he listens to the healer and Gregor argue and sooner David is pulled into the argument. Troy sighs, shaking his head and wishing he could see the table in front of him; wondering how hard he'd hit his head before he started bleeding at the skull...
"Sirs," the servant says, "maybe it's best if we leave her be for now?" a kind suggestion.
"Agreed." Troy says, the statement is shocking -mostly cause his parents never have heard him agree with a servant before- that Lorana, David and the healer are staring at him. He can feel their gazes. He turns his blind gaze on Gregor's shadowed silhouette. "Perhaps, after supper, I can check on her? If it's all right with you..."
A moments silence and then- "All right," David says, his voice feigning fear, "who are you and what have you done with my spoiled and selfish son?" Troy rolls his eyes, and continues to keep his blind eyes on Gregor.
"I'm sure that she'd like that," the older Montez man says, "she's been meaning to have a word with you."
"You haven't yelled at her yet?" Lorana says, why does everyone assume that he yells at everyone?! Utter silence, his mother clears her throat. "You don't have to shout you know?" Shit, has he spoke his thoughts aloud?
That'd be the first time.
"I just want to see if she's all right, Mother." He says, his voice turned down as he moves his eyes to in front of him. Staring at the blackness that fills his vision everyday. He hears his mother 'humph' and then as Chef comes into the dining room, the servant goes over and tells him that Gabriella will be taking her supper in her room. Everyone else is served at the table.
"I want a masque." Sharpay says snootily, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her lower lip. The carriage has only been on the journey back for the one day and she's complaining to anyone who'll listen- which is no one -about how Troy says he'll bring a female friend of his to the ball with him. How she is intending a plan to keep him and his female companion away from each other so she can make a move on her future groom. Troy is hers. He will be hers.
"Sister," Ryan says, but he stops when she glares frostily at him. He shakes his head, "you are my sister whether or not I have kissed Ariana-'"
"Gah!" She screams, "servants don't have names! They are worms-"
"Why do I bother speaking to you?" Ryan asks idily, more to himself, resting his chin on his palm and staring out the window of the carriage as they pass through the thick brush. Adriana sits by Sharpay- who forbids her to sit near Ryan for anything -biting her lip and fiddling with her fingers; eyes down, hair in her face.
"Because I'm the one whose going to get the throne when papa dies." She sounds smug as the words roll off her tongue, Ryan clenches his fists and adjusts his collar of his tunic; his skin itching to feel Adriana's hands on his flesh again and her fingers through his hair- which is no longer unkempt from her mussy touch, but tied back smoothly with his ribbon.
"When that happens I'll hang myself in the town square." He mutters, Sharpay hasn't heard him but Adriana did and she gasps from shock when her eyes widen and she looks up at him like a frightened doe. He lifts one corner of his mouth in a comforting 'I didn't mean it, but I would trade anything for my sister not to rule' smile. Her nerves aren't calmed. Sharpay imagines herself sitting on the throne, being loved and adored by her subjects; a statue of her honorably standing in the town square and the finest of gowns being given to her by neighboring countries and villages. Of course Troy at her side-
"What if Troy doesn't desire you?" Sharpay gasps and glares at him again, but her lips are turned in a smirk. "Ryan, I can make any male in the village desire me...if can them, I can make Troy Bolton desire me. Just give me the night of the masque and I can assure that me and him will be betrothed by the end of the night." He doubts it. Highly. He's only met Troy once and the man reeks of arrogance and selfishness; he hasn't seen him since that first time nor has he heard of any thing that says that Troy Bolton has changed his character. Too much like Sharpay is Troy Bolton, thus the two will never be a match...God help everyone if they are.
Which he prays otherwise.
Hours. That's how long it's been; supper is over, but he hasn't gone up to his chamber yet...he's pacing in front of the stairs as carefully as he can without falling. His mind is going over the possibilities of Gabriella opening the door to him. Letting him speak with her. Apolo-apologize for what he had said earlier when they were in the bath...hmm...delicious memories that he will savor until he has died. Then again, with the pain of his groin standing like a knight awaiting order's he might die an early death because he is unable to sate his own pleasures when a certain young lady is just up the stairs at the very moment. Biting his inner cheek, he shakes his head and grips the banister and goes from leg to leg; debating on how to proceed...
Damn it! Why is he so nervous? So anxious? So...
Sexually needy? Shut up! Shaking his head again, he takes a stop on to the first stair; proceeding slowly. The tight pain in his groin doesn't lessen as his dream comes back to haunt him...and he's going to be in the same room as her. Behind a closed door.
Sexually dependent. Shut up!
"Gabriella..." he says to himself in a low tone, "I uh...I want to apolo-no that's...that's pathetic." Clearing his throat as he continues to slowly climb the stairs without falling he starts again. "Gabriella, I heard you weren't feeling well- stupid!" he mentally slaps his own face as he makes the top of the stairs and freezes. In what direction is her chamber? Stupid of him not to ask her, then again...what odds does he have of knowing which door she resided behind...
"Young Master?" Asks a timid voice of a lady maid. "Are you in need of help?" No, he's just...just...
In need of sexual release- shut up! "Which chamber is Gabriella's?" He asks, surprisingly enough his voice isn't chastising or yelling but calm...nervous, anxious, but calm.
"Uhm, it's just...I can show you." Her voice is soft, a flicker of fear is very obvious in her tone. Does he really put fear in his servants? "Follow me, young master."
Troy nods, holding his hand out taking hold of the lady maids elbow gently. She swallows and takes a step in the direction of east; all the while, Troy is mumbling what to say to Gabriella; when the lady maid knocks softly is when he feels his heart quicken in pace and his palms sweat. Legs wobble in their rooted place. "Should I stay with you, young master?"
Yes, please. "No, I can manage from here." Bastard! Sexually dependent bastard! Shut up! The lady maid clears her throat and walks away to carry on her duties, Troy clears his throat and knocks again. "Gabriella," he mutters to himself. "I just want to talk to you...I uh, heard you weren't feeling well-no, that won't...that's just pathetic-"
"Troy?" he hadn't heard the door open, also the smell of her skin and hair wafting into his senses had been a surprise to him. She had been bathing. Oh Lord...suddenly his mind his blank and the tightness in his groin is unbearable to ignore. "What are you doing?"
But he stomachs it anyway...what was it he was going to say?
A longer chapter than the last! I hope you all like it! xx
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~Elena xxx