Chapter 34

It had always irritated Dafne, Basta calling her "little mouse". It had started as a taunt, a reference to her being weak, unable to fight back. She had proved him wrong but the name had persisted, changing from insult to compliment. It was a term of endearment, a name he had uniquely ascribed to her, a name only he used. She hadn't considered its special significance to him until now. She had been too preoccupied with her personal annoyance towards it. He didn't continue to call her "little mouse" because he was too lazy to correct himself, it was a way for him to express affection albeit teasingly.

Dear heart you are one hell of a mouse.

That's what he had just said, the implication being that she was not an ordinary mouse, not an ordinary woman. She was not what he had first expected and he admired her for it. She could say the same of him. He continued to surprise her. Who would have thought that the man who had kidnapped her all those moons ago would go out of his way to prevent another kidnapping just because of her. His motivation being that he loved her. And he wanted her to love him back.

She had explained to him the reason why she couldn't. She couldn't be with someone who, amongst a litany of unsavoury deeds, kidnapped women who caught his master's eye. But now Basta had proved that he was capable of doing the right thing, if only just for one instance but it was still significant. It seemed like he had taken her words to heart. That meant a lot to her. The future had so bleak before, when he had kept her in the dark as to what he had done. In that duration she had despaired, was that a sign that she actually wanted to be with him?

Had she simply regretted the fact that this man couldn't change or had she regretted that for this reason they couldn't be together? She should be reprimanding herself, saying you idiot, its the first one but no. The answer wasn't so easily concluded. She wasn't sure how she felt about him. She cared about him, sympathised with him but was she in love with or at least beginning to love him?

Career objections aside, the man himself was often infuriating to get along with. They bickered constantly though their arguments were usually a clash of moral viewpoints. His OCD was annoying to live with, teetering on maddening. His penchant for superstition was odd but she found this quirk more endearing than the former. She still carried the horseshoe in her pocket though she was convinced it lacked any lucky properties.

She couldn't deny the sincerity of his feelings for her. It moved her certainly but what of her feelings for him? It was funny how she had jumped automatically to his flaws when deliberating the matter. He had done the same thing when she had asked him to explain why he liked her. Two people who could list the other person's faults more easily than their appeal were surely not destined for a successful relationship.

She admitted he was handsome in a formidable way. Sneers and scowls were common but they strangely suited the hard-lined landscape of his face. Even in full fury his features were horrifying compelling like starring into a storm. His face only softened in moments of awkwardness or tenderness otherwise it remained intense, even in contemplation. But she couldn't love someone based on their looks though the attraction was there. When he had kissed her, she had lingered before prising herself away.

You kissed me back, he had accused her. Had she? Had it been curiosity that had drawn out the kiss or had it been something else. Had she wanted it? Had her heart take command for those seconds before her mind with all its reason had wrestled back control and put an end to it?

She couldn't say for sure. You could kiss him and find out, a voice in her head said. She felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought. I can't do that, she answered herself shrilly. I can't kiss him just for the sake of experiment.

During all this inner contemplation, Basta's smile had faded into a look of sheepishness,

"Sorry," he said, "I just called you dear heart and little mouse in the same sentence," he rubbed the back of his head self-consciously, "I guess I just got carried away, what with you hugging me and all."

"I'm not mad," Dafne said with a reassuring smile, a little touched by his answer, "I've quite given up on trying to make you stop calling me little mouse."

Basta breathed a sigh of relief,

"Oh that's good," he said, "Because ever since you told me that story, Dafne makes me think of that stuck-up nymph."

He wrinkled his nose, slightly scowling.

"She wasn't stuck-up. She was under a spell, remember?" Dafne said, rolling her eyes at him though she kept smiling.

Basta shrugged,

"What's the difference? It didn't have a happy ending."

"Then you wouldn't like the story Capricorn made tell me him," Dafne said, "It had a worse ending."

Basta was only intrigued by this.

"Why, what happened? Tell me."

Dafne laughed a little at his childlike insistence

"Don't you want to go home?" she asked him.

Basta shrugged,

"I suppose," he said noncommittally.

"Let's go then," Dafne said, "If you really want I can tell you the story there."

"Wait," Basta said as she was moving away.

She stopped and looked back enquiringly.

"Is that why Capricorn sent for you?" Basta asked her, "To tell him a story?"

"He wanted something to pass the time," Dafne said, "Waiting for... you know. Oh," she remembered, "He read to me too. He read to me from Inkheart."

"Inkheart?" Basta repeated in surprise.

Dafne nodded,

"Just a section of it," she sighed wistfully, "I even had my hands on it for a moment. I would really like to read it."

"Why?" Basta asked. He didn't sound too keen on the idea.

"Because I want to read about you," Dafne replied.

Basta folded his arms,

"Why don't you just ask me?" he eyed her suspiciously, "Or do you think I'm hiding things from you? You want to check for yourself."

She could see why Basta would object on this premise. The book contained all his past wrongdoings like a signed confession.

She shook her head.

"I don't want to read it so I can guilt-trip you," she said, "I'm just curious. If I had come out of a book, wouldn't you want to read it to know all about me?"

"That's a stupid question," Basta said, "I can't read remember."

"I can always teach you," Dafne offered, "And how write if you want. Capricorn wants me to teach you how to write that message."

"Yeah good luck with that," Basta said scornfully, "Teaching me and idiots like Cockerell. You might be a grey-haired old lady by the time we get it right."

Dafne conjured the image of herself in a classroom as an elderly woman with Capricorn's men seated at the desks none of them having aged at all.

"Cockerell maybe," she said, "But considering you've never held a pen before, you did a good job the other day."

"Capricorn didn't think so," Basta muttered, looking disappointed.

"Well who are you going to listen to, him or me?" Dafne said with a touch of annoyance.

"You," Basta mumbled.

Dafne beamed at him,

"Good. So I'll teach you."

Basta sighed,

"Okay," he said without enthusiasm.

"Being able to read and write is important," Dafne said encouragingly, "It'll help you get by better in life than your knife."

Basta sneered at this,

"I've gotten by just fine up until now," he said huffily.

Dafne shrugged,

"If you learn how to write, you can write me love letters."

Basta looked at her in surprise,

"Love letters?" he said contemplatively, seeming to warm to the idea, "Yes, I suppose I could..." he eyed her distrustfully, "But you would just rip them up."

"No, I wouldn't do that," Dafne said, "I'd be proud of you for being able to write them."

"I suppose it wouldn't be so bad," Basta said almost to himself, "I'd like to be able to write my name at least."

"I could teach you tonight," Dafne said, adding regretfully as an afterthought, "But we don't have any paper... or anything to write with."

"I can get you those no problem," Basta said confidently, "But in the morning. It's too late now."

I'll be able to write a note to Resa, Dafne thought only for her excitement to turn into uncertainty. But what am I going to write? She had been resolved to escape up until the point where she had learnt the truth about Sara. Now she wasn't sure to proceed. She could attempt to convince Basta to escape with them, the risk being that he rejected her proposal vehemently and the whole plan went up in smoke. But Monster Night was next week so she didn't have time for indecision.

"Dafne," Basta said, dragging her attention away, "Which part did Capricorn read to you?"

They had been making their way to Basta's house. They were close enough to see the glow of candlelight in the window. Silvio was no doubt waiting for them inside.

"The part about his favourite maid," Dafne said, answering Basta's question.

Basta looked uneasy.

"Sabina," he said, he knew which one she was referring to, "What about her exactly?"

"About how she became his maid," Dafne said, "About the fire."

"Oh," Basta said in a small uncomfortable voice.

He looked meaningfully down at his sleeves.

Dafne touched him lightly on the shoulder,

"But you already told me about that," she said gently, "You showed me your arms."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," Basta said regretfully.

"Why?"

"Well they aren't going to do me any favours with you are they?" he said, his voice tinged with self-disgust.

"I don't care that you have scars Basta," Dafne said.

"Don't lie," Basta said angrily, "I saw your face when I showed you."

"I just wasn't expecting it," Dafne said.

Her hands reached for the button on his shirt cuff. Basta watched her in confusion then alarm.

"What are you doing?" he said in a tight voice.

"I'm proving to you that I don't care," she said, button undone she began edging the sleeve up.

"No, don't do that," Basta said, jerking his arm away, "What's wrong with you?" he pushed the sleeve back into place, looking at her reproachfully, "Don't you understand personal boundaries?"

"Personal boundaries?" Dafne laughed, "You're talking to me about personal boundaries?"

Basta was scrambling to fasten the button,

"Yes," he growled, "You didn't even ask me if you could do it."

"You manhandle me all the time without asking," Dafne said, "And you kissed me!"

"You kissed me back!" Basta said, abandoning the button to focus his entire attention on her, "Don't you tell me you didn't."

"So what if I did?" Dafne said before she could stop herself, "The point is you didn't ask."

Basta stared at her uncertainly as if he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

Look what you've done now, Dafne groaned inwardly, stupid, stupid...

Basta's expression turned triumphant,

"I knew it! I knew it! You said you didn't at the time but I knew you did!"

"Well good for you," Dafne said embarrassedly.

Basta waved his arm around, his unbuttoned sleeve flapping. He was grinning,

"Yes good for me. Good for you too because you must have liked to kiss me back."

Dafne shrugged,

"Maybe," she said, trying to sound dismissive.

Basta shook his head,

"Not maybe. You did. Don't lie."

Dafne sighed,

"It was better than I thought it would be. Let's leave it at that."

"The best you've ever had?"

"Basta," Dafne groaned, "Just leave it alone will you. You've become cocky enough as it is."

"I'll take that as a yes then?"

"Basta!"

"Okay okay."

He lapsed into silence but he kept beaming at her.

"Stop grinning at me," Dafne said self-consciously.

"But I'm happy. This is an important moment for me little mouse. You're the first girl to enjoy a kiss from me."

Dafne found herself smiling,

"I feel rather special then."

Basta laughed,

"I'm glad you think so. Do you still want to see my horribly scarred arm? Will that make you as happy as you've made me?"

He held his arm out to her eagerly.

Dafne laughed.

"What about personal boundaries?"

Basta snorted,

"Personal boundaries be damned!" he said happily, "Touch me all you want."

Dafne accepted this invitation and poked him in the stomach.

"Ow! Why did you do that?"

"You said I could touch you," she said sweetly.

"You know for someone who crusades against violence, you're pretty violent yourself," Basta said, rubbing the place she had prodded him, "Remember when you beat Cockerell with that tray, ha, that was funny."

"Maybe it's your influence," Dafne said, a little troubled by this observation.

"But you're the one who's supposed to influence me," Basta said, "Not the other way around."

"Well you did save that girl," Dafne pointed out.

"That I did," Basta said, "All for you little mouse."

Dafne smiled,

"Yes, there's hope for you yet."

There was hope for them, if that's what she wanted. Was it what she wanted?

"Give me your arm," she said.

Basta looked a little more hesitant to do so now that his euphoria had died down.

"Come on. You said I could look."

Basta sighed, holding it out straight.

Dafne peeled back the sleeve carefully, exposing the scars inch by inch to the moonlight. It was the second time she had looked upon it but she was still struck by the extent of the damage. Her memory had not been able to capture it as vividly as seeing it afresh. She ran her finger up the length of his forearm, feeling the scars like Braille. Basta stiffened but he didn't shirk away.

"Poor Basta," Dafne murmured, feeling no revulsion, just pity.

She looked up at him and saw that his face was strained.

"Sorry, does it hurt me touching it?"

Basta shook his head, smiling faintly,

"No, it just feels a little strange."

"I'll stop," Dafne said. She was obviously making him uncomfortable.

"It really doesn't bother you does it" Basta said as she was covering it back up.

Dafne shook her head,

"I told you it didn't."

"You know it would make things easier if you were repulsed by it," Basta said.

"Why?" Dafne asked confused.

Basta regarded her sadly,

"Because it makes me want you more, you accepting it," he told her, "It would be less complicated if you just hated me."

"Sorry," Dafne said, "But I don't hate you."

"You don't love me either," Basta pointed out bleakly.

"I could grow to love you," Dafne found herself saying.

Basta stared at her in surprise.

"What did you say?"

Dafne didn't answer straight away. She was too shocked over what she had said to repeat it.

"Little mouse," Basta said insistently.

She looked at him, his expression anxious and pleading and hopeful. She felt her heart stir with affection. It seemed to confirm what she had been saying so she said it again,

"I said I could grow to love you."

The two stared at each in slightly overwhelmed silence. Basta licked his lips nervously,

"So you... you might like to be with me then?" he said.

Dafne felt the enormity of question bearing down on her. Certainty slipped through her fingers and she found herself shifting indecisively between two paths, unable to commit to either.

"I don't know," she ended up saying helplessly.

Basta grimaced at her indecision,

"No don't say that!" he protested somewhat wildly, "It's either yes or no."

"Basta, don't put me on spot," she pleaded.

"But I have to know!" he looked so tormented, "Answer the question!"

Dafne screwed her eyes shut, willing her brain to make a decision.

"Okay yes I do."

The words sprung from her mouth. She opened her eyes wide to see Basta staring at her in amazement,

"Really?"

"Yes," Dafne said nervously, grasping for justification, "At least I think so. I mean I care about you and you care about me and... That doesn't mean we need to be together but... You kissed me and I think there was something, maybe, I don't know... I said I couldn't be with you because of what you did. But you did a good thing, because of me, you didn't have to... Before you told me, I was ready to give up on you, I thought you couldn't change and I felt... I was sad, because I thought it meant you didn't love me enough... But you proved me wrong," she smiled but could only manage it for a moment in her distraction, "I don't think a man's loved me like you before. It scares me, because of who you are. It's the past, what you did to me. You kidnapped me so it's crazy that I'd want to be with you," she laughed, shaking her head at herself, "But I do so I must be crazy. I really must be crazy..."

"You do sound a little crazy when you ramble like that," Basta said smiling tenderly at her, "But you do want to be with me though? Was that the gist of what you just said? It's just that it was kind of hard to follow dear heart."

His hand went to stroke the side of her face.

Dafne gave a small moan, pulling his hand gently away.

"Basta, even if I want to, we can't be together."

Basta's face fell,

"Why not?"

"You know why not," Dafne said, "Yes you saved Sara. But tomorrow you're going to go off and do whatever it is Capricorn wants you to do. What I told you before still stands. As long as you serve Capricorn, I can't give myself to you, regardless of whether I want to. It's up to you, Basta. You need to choose."

To be continued...