CHAPTER ELEVEN: Under the Wing

Of all the times I had delivered food to him, Master Sorel seemed to be buried in a book or gazing out his window. He is always very deep in thought, for when I scratch at the door he never answers. I must always repeat myself to get his attention and access his study.

"Your dinner, Master." He grunts in acknowledgement.

For Jacqueline, her patience with Amy grows shorter by the day. I pity the two of them and wonder if I should try and ease this tension or not. I decide to slip away from my cooking duties for a while and visit Auguste to see if he can help me or offer at least a bit of advice.

"Auguste!" I say, almost skipping towards him. "I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages." We embrace, but he doesn't let go.

"Auguste?"

"Forgive me, but with our tight schedules I always wonder whether or not we will see each other."

Eventually I push away him. "Never you mind that. The stables are not miles away from the kitchen or anything."

"True. Is there something you need? I'd be delighted to groom your mane, or perhaps we could saddle you up and trot about the valleys of Wallachia?"

I laugh. "No, although you sound quite tempted. Unfortunately Jacqueline doesn't particularly bond well with Miss Amy. Sometimes I wonder if it is one girl bothering the other."

"Have you seen Miss Amy? Do you deliver her food to her?" he asks.

"Not directly. Whenever I scratch at the door she wishes me to leave it outside. Other than the night we all arrived here I have not seen Miss Amy."

"She seems to be a solitary butterfly…"

"Yes, yet Jacqueline has called her other things."

"Like what?" he whispers eagerly, leaning forward a bit. I swallow, looking both directions before replying.

"A brat."

He snorts. "That wasn't as profane as I expected."

"I don't fear the words themselves," I scrunch my nose, "believe me, Catriona has said much worse to me, what I am afraid of are the ears that might hear them."

"Ah, yes, I understand."

"Do you think I should interfere?" I fiddle with the tail of my braid nervously.

"Personally, I think it would be the correct thing to do; benefitting both Jacqueline and Miss Amy, but its whether or not you have the courage to converse this with Master Raphael or not. After all, it is his decision anyway."

I nod. "Yes, that sounds good…but what after that?"

He is silent for a few moments, contemplating, then says to me in a playful voice; "Here is a crazy idea…why don't you take Jacqueline's job?"

The thought of me being Amy's governess caught me completely off-guard, but it did seem like a rather clever idea. But Auguste was correct; how on earth was I to convince Master Raphael for the job? "I just don't know how to tell him…" I say, shifting.

"Think about how you will approach him for a few days, you don't want to screw up in front of him."

We laugh. "Auguste, you're brilliant," I say into his shoulder, hugging him again. "Ah, but I have slacked off for too long. Dinner needs to be served," I pull away from him and dash off, picking up my skirts so I don't trip on them. I hear Auguste call my name, but I do not turn around, as a million different things regarding me as Amy's maid distract my mind.

Today's supper is lamb with a parsley seasoning and some potatoes on the side. As I was cooking Jacqueline entered the kitchen as usual but did not speak. When I glanced at her it spoke all the words; she and Amy must have trifled again. "What happened now?" I ask, plating the entrees. Her cheeks just blush even harder and her scowl deepens. I put my spoon back in the pot and walk over to her, beginning to speak again before Jacqueline stands and marches past me.

"She looks like a bloody prostitute," Jacqueline spits through gritted teeth, heading for the miniscule boarding house. My jaw drops wide and I let out a gasp, both disappointed and shocked that she would say such a thing. I try to call out to her, but know that it is futile. As I stand in awe I realize that there still things on the stove to be plated, and I sprint back into the kitchen. It was then that I realized I needed to step between the tension of Amy and Jacqueline.

"Miss Amy, your dinner is outside your door." I call after scratching at her closed door.

"No… come in," a shallow voice calls. I cautiously turn the handle of Amy's chamber door. She sat in a window seat gazing at the blackened sky, flickering her eyes at me only for a moment. What I see in the red depths of her irises pains me and I pity her for all the trouble she and Jacqueline have gone through. I place the silver platter of food on her nearby desk and flatten my apron.

"Miss Amy, I sincerely apologize for your governess' intolerable behavior." Out of the corner of my eye I see Amy's gaze fix upon her short petticoat, and I felt so horrible that Jacqueline dared to call this tranquil girl such a sinful thing.

"Tell me what you think from your perspective," Amy says quietly, "about Jacqueline."

"Honestly I consider her like a sister, but nothing like an ideal one," I hesitate, "but to speak completely freely I am mortified at how immature she has been."

There is a silence, but Amy nods slowly. "She isn't the first to speak ill of my fashion… The only reason I wear this is how practical it is when it comes to fencing."

The skirt I was able to understand, but I could not imagine any person being swift at swordplay in that bodice. I could tell just by her posture and the look on her face that even now she was uncomfortable. I took a deep breath and wet my dry lips with my tongue. "Miss Amy…do you fence in that bodice?"

I notice something flicker in her eyes. There is another pause, in which she shifts uncomfortably then nods. I blink, looking down at the floor, almost speaking in return to that, but as I notice the silver platter holding Amy's meal I stop myself. I bow hurriedly. "Forgive me, Miss Amy, for I have stalled your supper." I depart her bedchamber, saying nothing more.

As I walk down the corridor I crash into none other than Master Sorel himself. "Forgive me, my lord," I squeak, bowing.

"Keep your head up when you stroll," he mutter then begins to walk away again. I have a chance so I take it, ignoring what Auguste said about taking time to think my actions over.

"Ah…my lord?" I call. He stops and turns his head toward me. Raphael's stern gaze makes me swallow my pride. I realize that it is an inappropriate moment to discuss such matters in the midst of the hallway. I scramble for something else to say.

"We are running short on red wine. If you wish me to I can go purchase more, that is unless you prefer white wine, which we have plenty of."

"The latter will suffice," Raphael answers, walking away.

"Yes, master." I acknowledge, then hurry off.

Ever since Jacqueline had offended Miss Amy I had grown more and more anxious to become her governess. Now whenever I delivered Amy's food she would allow my access into her room. We would converse as two girls would, speaking of poetry and literature, and I daresay that she has grown fond of me. Over the course of a week I decide to speak this over with Master Sorel as I deliver him his dinner.

I scratch at his chamber door once, expecting no reply as always, but surprisingly his cool voice beckons me to enter. "Your dinner sir," I announce humbly, trying to find a spot that I can set the tray on. I motion to gently clear a few papers to the side. "May I, sir?"

He nods. "Just be careful." I collect a pile of papers and stack them neatly, placing it on top of two books, trying not to notice the strange yet familiar drawings scribbled on them. If I had any sort of chance to converse with Master, now would be the best one. I straighten my posture and flatten my apron.

"Master Sorel…may I speak freely?" I say in a much smoother voice than I expected. He looks up at me from the edge of his book, and I take that as a sign to continue. "I have been noticing a constant strife between Miss Amy and her governess, Jacqueline. The least I can say is that she is not civilized around Miss Amy. That being said, perhaps you could consider placing me as governess? I do not think myself worthy of Miss Amy's presence, but I only want to serve her with the better."

He rises from his seat and stands in front of me, gazing into my yellow irises. Though he is taller than me, Raphael is only inches from my face. I swallow deeply, not wanting to make eye contact with him but feeling I have to. Raphael puts two gloved fingers to the edge of my neck, and my heartbeat accelerates at alarming speeds. He chuckles without smiling.

"There is no need to get so excited." He then spreads his two fingers apart and glanced at the skin of my jugular. At first I thought he was going to bite me again, but only muttered, "So they remain there." Raphael must be referring to the fang scars from when we first met; the day of the duel.

"Yes," I say, my voice rough because of the slight pressure of his fingers. "And they will forever remain, as my loyalty to you." I stare at his shirt so that I do not have to look into his mesmerizing irises. To my relief he begins to walk away, and I begin to breathe again.

"So…you think you are suitable to tutor my daughter?"

I know I am left with only one answer and I know it will make myself look foolish. My throat tightening, I utter out, "yes, sir."

"How many years of schooling do you have?"

Schooling? I begin to panic. My father taught me everything he knew – I could read, write and plow the fields to say the least – and often Edwyn would bring me books from the countries he travelled to. I could speak brief Czech, German and Latin but I was fluent in French, English and Gaelic. Amelie taught me many things about sewing, I could play the lute…all of the sudden I was scrambling for things to say – yet I had never stepped foot in a schoolhouse.

"I-I have not been to a school, but I have learned many things in the course of my seventeen years." I sounded so ridiculous.

"No education? Just wild knowledge?" Master Sorel did not sound disappointed, thankfully, and almost as though he was expecting that, or wanting, rather, that answer. "What is your best area in this 'wild knowledge'?"

"Well, sir, I… I can sew shirts, breeches and dresses, but I have a place of intelligence in the occult." He twitched a bit after I spoke.

"The occult?"

"Yes, sir." I bit my tongue. Perhaps saying such a thing would have offended him in religious terms. Curse my wicked tongue! Now he will turn me down and whisk me away from his service as a filthy witch. A horrible, sour taste erupted in my mouth and I felt like weeping.

"I suppose you shall be appropriate as Amy's governess. But how do you plan about the priorities in the kitchen?"

My heart leapt and time seemed to freeze. "I-I can adapt… w-worse comes to worst I shall have to teach J-Jacqueline how to cook." My speech is uneven and impaired, yet I am overwhelmed by relief!

"Very well then. You are dismissed." Raphael was now reading a novel. I bowed and quietly closed the door behind me. All of my worry of becoming Amy's governess and gaining Master's trust faded. My back hit the wall beside the entrance of Raphael's study, sinking until I sat upon the floor. It was so unnerving to be around him… He was so extremely handsome… I had won his trust, and perhaps I had succeeded in becoming his favorite, but I cannot think of myself so highly. My legs shaky, I hurry back to the kitchen to tell Jacqueline the news.

"Hm? Marienbard you look a little flustered. Have some stew."

I was amazed at what I saw; Jacqueline was cooking, and splendidly at that. Just by inhaling the steamy aroma of the hearty soup in front of me I knew she had used all the right ingredients. I give her a suspicious look, remembering the last time she attempted to cook, but she only scoffed. "Relax. Auguste came in just five minutes ago and ate. He'd fine, he rather enjoyed it, actually."

With her promising words I put the spoon to my lips and took a small taste of the stew. It was delicious! Far better than my starchy cooking – every vegetable and herb complemented each other. I took a few more bites to try and calm my blushing cheeks. She snickers with satisfaction and I look up at her with an awesome expression. "But…how?" I muttered. I swallowed, then rephrased. "If you're so good at cooking, then how come you almost served Raphael raw meat?" I shouted this like I was scolding her, when really I was thoroughly impressed.

"Well for one since he was a vampire I thought he could eat stuff like that. And I used to think cooking was a bore – since I was the only girl in my band of brigands I had to keep them fed – but ever since Amy got on my nerves I wanted this job back." She turned to ladle herself some of the stew then faced me again. "Happy?"

"Well," I say, placing my spoon in the now empty bowl, "the least I can say is that I'm surprised."

Jacqueline snickers. "Yeah, heh heh. So, what's up with you?" She asks, taking the bowl I hand her and putting her own in the already over-crowded sink.

"I'm Miss Amy's governess now. Don't give me that look, Jacqueline, she's not as bad as you exaggerate her to be." I flared my nostrils. "Sometimes you must be patient with people that are different from you."

Father had always told me that, and it always confused me. It was Catriona who should have been lectured; I treated everyone in our family equally, even Norienne; she did not understand things quickly and it took me many times to explain one simple factor of our serfdom to her. But I never complained or mistreated her, contrary to Catriona. It is no matter now, for I will never see my father again.

The sun seemed to set faster than usual, and the three of us retired to rest. Of course though I did not sleep, but instead stayed up late and began to think.

Amelie… You gave me the courage to stand up to him, didn't you? I prayed. You gave me feminine strength, so I want to thank you for that. I can see your smiling face as I deliver this message to you right now. Isn't it such a small world that I would end up in Raphael Sorel's service? Oh, Amelie… if only you could see where I am right now… Tomorrow I shall use your guidance and talent; for I wish to sew a new dress for Miss Amy. I think amaranthine would be a lovely color on her… yes… If only you could tell me what it symbolized. I hope to see you again someday.

I took my gaze and mused out at the midnight sky, watching as the darkness was illuminated by a shower of comets. They seemed to be crowding over somewhere in the western region – it looked to be Germany. In the distance I thought I heard Master Sorel begin to cackle. I wondered what diabolical plans were brewing in his mind…to create this utopia for Amy…

Amy did not speak much to me the first days as my tutor to her – she read a few of her selected poems to me, most of them were about rain or poverty, and showed me one of her paintings. It was of a rose; such detail was put into the petals and the thorns… I was amazed that she had such talent for her age. Four years ago, I only had skill of swimming like a serpent and keeping my mouth shut.

"…I don't like the color of this dress," she muttered to me once while I was playing a quiet song on the lute. I ceased strumming the strings to hear her out.

"Mm…It would be blue, like violets… Even with a hint of purple. Things to describe would be like… unity and enlightenment. More jovial things."

"…violets. They are so full of life…almost as if they are…mocking me. I hate them. They are too bright. I prefer…roses."

"For elegance and fervor. Roses symbolize passion and devotion." I could clearly see Amy's point. Roses seemed to suit her much more than violets did… I began to mentally sketch out a new dress for her. I pictured embroidery of roses inside of the bodice, maybe in the stockings as well…

"Miss Amy…would you be interested in if I made you a new dress? Perhaps something more like your persona…I would use many rose petal patterns in it…"

Slowly I saw Amy nod.

"Do you know much of sewing? Perhaps you might like to assist me in the embroidery or the stitching."

"That… that would be fine…"

The next day I brought in the rolls of fabric I would need. I decided on tough material like leather and cashmere, things that did not wear away easily but at the same time were comfortable. I purchased faux fur for lining of the dress, I wasn't completely sure I would use it though, and lace. I made estimated measurements on Amy, since I knew she would feel awkward if I recorded her height or more importantly her bust. I too had felt shift when Amelie wrapped the measuring tape around my breasts… I did not want to discomfort Miss Amy in any way. I intended to make the numbers a bit larger than I thought Amy was because I did not want to strangle her like the bodice on her last dress did.

"Euh… I… I am not very keen with a needle…" Amy murmured as we were stitching the design on her lace stockings. I smiled to reassure her.

"It is alright. Picture it as though it were your rapier." When we first arrived in Wallachia, Raphael spoke endlessly of Amy's swordplay; how elegant and decisive it was. At my words, Amy seemed to already be making more vigorous stitches with her needle. "Yes, you're doing perfectly."

I believe that through the process of the dressmaking Amy grew closer to me. I told her much of the stories I read when I was in Ireland, all of the chapter of the majestic things from the occult books Edwyn gave me.

"My favorite thing to read about, though, was the Krita-Yuga." I narrated as we were threading the laces of the bodice through the holes in the cashmere.

"…that sounds vaguely familiar…"

"It is one of the Three Sacred Treasures of the Ling Sheng-Su Temple. They are of oriental origin: first, there is the Kali-Yuga, a rod that can absorb any type of energy, be it good or evil. Then there is the Dvapara-Yuga, a pendant that can purify even the most evil, bringing even the malfested to human form again. Lastly, the Krita-Yuga is a holy sword that brings order to rid the world of evil." I noticed that a strange, uncomfortable expression appeared on Amy's face. "That is all I know, though." I lied; in truth I knew ages about the Three Sacred Treasures, but Amy seemed to be awkward by the conversation, so I decided to focus on the dressmaking.

In time, we finished it. I was quite happy with the result: the sleeves and top hem of her dress were lined in the faux fur I decided to use, then down the side of the sleeves was an embroidering of roses which was colored a magenta-like hue against the black leather, then the torso had that same pattern and was laced together also. The skirt was a very dark shade of purple and made of cashmere; I decided to ruffle the hems so that it would feel loose. I cut the dress short like her previous one – for fighting purposes! – and her rose, lace stockings came up to her thigh. I noticed Amy blushing.

"Madame, your cheeks are flustered. Are you not pleased with the result? Are you feeling ill?"

"No… I am fine…" she murmured. "I… enjoyed making the dress. I think it is very pretty…"

I calmed myself. "I am happy that you are pleased. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Uhm… Well… I would like some…paper to write poetry on… Father should have some in his study…He's out in town so you could go in as you please…"

I bowed. "Of course, Miss Amy. I will return with them in but a few minutes." I exited Amy's room, feeling very comforted. It made me happy to see that Amy was enjoying herself…

My arms exploded into gooseflesh as I entered Raphael's study without permit from him. Even with Amy's bidding, I still felt uncomfortable. If I just quickly came and went, he would notice nothing wrong. I looked in his desk and found a journal sitting upon the face of the table. If I tore a page out of the back he probably would not notice it missing. However I felt insanely curious, so I flipped through the pages, just to see what he wrote about. Most of them were of things like a "Holy Stone" and having to destroy it… It sounded very similar to the Dvapara-Yuga… Other things were of Soul Edge and making a perfect world for Amy, of course… I flipped to the most recent log.

October

I have found three of the guardians of the spirit sword. Even with the three of them, their fight was far from decent – and the woman with the ruby hair had the most grating voice. The man…he very well dressed like a dog, and fought no better. The third one, however, she might have put up to the guardian's reputation. I'll give her that her weapon was large and hard to manipulate; even so, her moves were indecisive and slow. They were not as I expected them to be, but the Irish woman seems to be intelligent, unlike the other two. I will start my journey for this "spirit sword" tomorrow and soon Amy and I will have our Utopia.

I swallowed hard. Raphael thought we were some sort of "guardians"? Auguste, Jacqueline and I were just simply in the wrong place at the wrong time… Suddenly I grew afraid. What if Raphael somehow figured out that we weren't who he presumed us to be? He would probably persecute us or cast us away and then we would have nowhere to turn. I knew much about the occult, so I figured that I would live up to my reputation, or his reputation at least. I feared for Jacqueline and Auguste. They did not seem to know much about this "spirit sword", yet Jacqueline did look like she knew a bit about Soul Edge. At least Raphael did not expect much from them. Taking in a breath I did not know I was holding, I quickly ripped a page from his journal and left his study, leaving everything as it was.