Reaver's Servants

Reaver 'Round the Rosie

It was a terrible night for rain. The entire manor was dark and the only sounds being made came from the upstairs office, where the master of the house was busy with paperwork. The rain trickled down on the roof of the manor, sounding like rice in a pan. The tension in the manor could be cut with a knife and served for dinner. No one wanted to talk about what was causing the tension and they certainly didn't want to bring it up around said party.

Late night had settled in and all but two servants were awake. The grandfather clock in the foyer sounded off twelve gongs, though the servants weren't sleepy at all. The last few days had them thinking about things they dared not think before.

The wind was picking up outside, indicating a storm coming. The servants sat in different chairs in the dining room. A mostly cold tea set remained near the part of the table Reaver usually sat in. Tonight, that chair was occupied by Rosie. This wasn't a meeting of any kind. No one had called it, and no one was officiating over it. When the day's duties had been finished, the servants somehow found their way to the dining room and sat.

Willa sat with on leg over the arm of her chair, not very proper considering they were all still in uniform. Beryl leaned against the arm of her chair while playing with a tassel from the table cloth. Gordon leaned his chair back on the back two legs while rocking with his foot against the table. Rosie sat straight as a pole, only observing.

The latest gossip around the manor occurred a few days before. The wedding of Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah attracted some unwanted visitors who ended up being chased off by a balverine. Though one visitor was welcome, Miss Sarah's older brother, Geoffrey. However, he came on more than just Miss Sarah's invitation to the wedding. He came offering a new job to Mr. Hatch and it was tempting. The servants got most of the details from Rosie, who had a knack for eavesdropping.

Rosie heard Geoffrey talk to his future brother-in-law about an assistant job in Brightwall. It was to be Geoffrey's assistant clerk, but only for a few months. After a few months, Barry would take over as the town clerk and Geoffrey would go off with his wife to another business venture far off in another city. Rosie had listened in more closely, even after Geoffrey had left for the night. She could hear Barry discussing it with Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah seemed hesitant about leaving the other servants, so she told her brother they'd talk it over.

Before Rosie could get any more information, Reaver had caught her (in his eavesdropping spot, no less) and motioned for her to leave the area.

This marked the first time any of them had seen Reaver leave his office in at least a few days. After the unpleasantness of Miss Sarah's parents, Reaver seemed to lock himself into his office. Reaver didn't even go to the factories for the last couple of days. The only time he left his office was for meals and when it was time for bed. Even then, he spoke to no one. Even on their annual Wednesday night off, Reaver didn't leave this office.

Even Barry didn't know what was going on in that office. Barry had mentioned the last time Reaver spent that long in his office he was drawing up a contract between himself and then King Logan. Barry decided he didn't need to go into any more detail than that.

The servants didn't seem bothered by their boss's absence. It was the least of their worries. Rosie seemed pretty nonchalant about it, though that's how she felt about everything. Rosie glanced at her friends but didn't move much. It was Willa that started the discussion.

"So, it's come to this?" she asked, not sure if anyone was actually paying attention. Willa seemed the angriest out of all of them. She gripped the hem of her uniform tightly, as if trying to distract herself from the truth of the situation. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been holding back tears. "We left the circus and promised to stay together. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Beryl looked at Willa and sighed. "I guess it wasn't forever. Of all people, I figured Miss Sarah would always be around."

Gordon stopped tempting fate with the chair and moved it back to all four legs. "Come on, we all knew this was coming. Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah have always been at least two steps away from tearing each other's clothes off, we knew they'd eventually get married. But I must say, even I didn't expect this."

Rosie said nothing.

"It's not fair!" shouted Willa. Beryl shushed her softly, but Willa didn't seem to notice. "She's the one that made us all promise! When we left, she made us all promise we'd stick together and take care of each other!" Willa sat up straight and folded her arms. "How can they even be considering leaving?"

Beryl decided to steer her attention to her empty tea cup. "We may not like it, but we have to be happy for Miss Sarah. Not many people can say they've found love."

"She needs us right now as much as we need her. She needs us to keep her from making a mistake. I know Miss Sarah is anxious to start a life with Mr. Hatch, but she doesn't have to move away to do that. I know she's a lady of routine, and starting a new one somewhere else won't sit well with her." Gordon leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Rosie said nothing.

Willa kept her pouting face. "Miss Sarah can't leave! Mr. Hatch can climb the peaks of Mistpeak for all I care, but Miss Sarah has to stay here! She has to know how much we need her here!"

"What will happen to us when she leaves?" asked Beryl. Gordon and Willa shrugged. "Miss Sarah has kept us together for so long; I don't think I can stand seeing someone else in the kitchen. I don't know about this whole wedding. If I knew it'd mean Miss Sarah was going to leave, I never would have given my blessing! Who's to say that she's not the reason Mr. Reaver hasn't fired us all yet?"

Gordon sat up straight. "That's not fair, Beryl. You can't just take back a blessing. Besides, we all know this wedding is a train wreck. I know it, you know it, and even Mr. Reaver knows it. I'm sure even he's just as upset at this as we are. You know he hates being inconvenienced by doing actual work around here. He'll have to hire a new cook and a new assistant."

Rosie said nothing.

Tapping her finger on the table, Willa looked like she was about to burst. "We agreed to be her bridesmaids, but I can't agree to let her go! What will happen when she leaves? Will we all eventually leave as well or will we stick together? Will Mr. Reaver see that we're useless without her and fire us on the spot? And what if the new cook and assistant are mean to us?"

"I didn't think about that." Beryl murmured. "We can't let Miss Sarah break us up like this! She's the reason we even have these jobs and now she's just going to leave us to the wolves? I bet she didn't even think about who she was hurting when she accepted Mr. Hatch's proposal!"

Before Gordon could speak, Rosie stood up, slamming her fists on the table. "I think you're all being selfish!" she shouted. Everyone looked at Rosie. Rosie got up from her seat and made her way to the right side of the table. "If any of you thought for one moment about Miss Sarah's happiness instead of your own livelihood, you'll see this entire discussion is pointless. Miss Sarah loves us all and she's been good to us, but she has her own life to live. Who are we to tell her not to marry Mr. Hatch?"

The others looked at each other. "But what will happen when she leaves? You can't promise we'll all still be together!" Willa shouted.

Rosie folded her arms and sighed. "No, I can't promise that. But we can't deny her a chance to be happy. Even if it is away from us, Miss Sarah deserves her own life. We may not like it, but it's not our decision to make. It's hers, and she's going to make it her way on her terms."

"You can't seriously be for Miss Sarah leaving!" Beryl accused, standing in front of her chair. "Miss Sarah leaving will be a disaster! Who will cook our favorite meals and make us feel better when Mr. Reaver puts us down? Miss Sarah knows how I like my pancakes and the only person to perfect it! I would feel so…dirty for eating someone else's pancakes!"

"I don't like it either, but we shouldn't stand in the way if she so chooses." Rosie answered simply. "I think you've all spent too much time thinking about the material of what you're losing when and if Miss Sarah leaves. You didn't think about losing a good friend. You thought about losing your meal ticket. Is that all she is to you guys? Are you no better than her parents? Miss Sarah is a living, breathing human being and she is as entitled to find a new life outside the manor as any of us. Nothing has stopped anyone else from leaving or staying!"

The other servants looked at each other and then back at Rosie. She had a pretty good point. Rosie started to walk away. "Rosie, wait! What is going to happen if she leaves?" asked Beryl.

Rosie only shrugged. "I don't know. Life will go on, I suppose. Eventually, we'll get used to not having Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch around. We'll miss her, but at the same time we'll be happy that she's found her own way and that she's living a good life." Rosie walked away at that moment.

The entire dining room was silent again. "How can Rosie be so cold?" Willa finally whispered to Beryl. "She of all people should be the saddest about this. She's always been the closest to Miss Sarah; I figured she'd be just as upset as we are, if not more."

"Well, you got to hand it to Rosie; she knows how to keep her cool about stuff like this. I'm sure she's just as upset about it as we are, if not more. But Rosie's not one for big emotional scenes. I'm jealous of how well she's taking this. I'm sure she's alright. She's Rosie." Beryl's comforting reassurance did little for Willa and did nothing for Gordon, who was fighting back the urge to follow Rosie.

Eventually the other servants went back to their rooms to try and sleep, but Rosie lingered downstairs. She stood in front of the kitchen doors, wondering if she believed the words she shouted at her friends. The words she heard the others say after she left where the ones that lingered. Yes, Rosie was a strong woman, but even a strong person has a weakness. That was something she learned in the circus and it was a lesson that Reaver reminded the servants of at every appropriate opportunity.

Miss Sarah had been the only person Rosie trusted with her secrets and Rosie often felt closer to her than any of the others. Rosie pressed her hand against the cold wood door of the kitchen and closed her eyes tight. She could feel the world around her moving and tried to focus her mind. Rosie opened her eyes after a few minutes and sighed softly. For the first time in years, Rosie couldn't see anything past the present. It terrified Rosie, but at the same time it comforted her.

While she doubted she was losing her abilities, Rosie decided that the stress of the confrontation with the others was blocking any prediction. For the first time, Rosie would have welcomed a prediction. She needed the comfort of knowing what was going to happen. She sighed and held onto her forearms tightly. The rain outside started hitting the windows hard and the wind made the windows make odd thumping noises. Then Rosie heard a click.

A click? She thought, looking at a nearby window. The click was followed by a static sound, like one would hear before someone puts a record on a gramophone. Rosie turned around fast and saw a soft glimmer of light coming from the study. The study didn't have a door, but it had fancy red curtains that could be pulled whenever Reaver didn't want to be disturbed. Rosie knew never to break the rule of going into the study when the doorway curtains were drawn, but something was leading her in that direction.

Rosie's life had been led by unknown forces for as long as she could remember. What she was willing to tell the others of her past before the circus was always the same story. Yes, she used to belong to a gypsy caravan that traveled, but the others never knew any more than that. She never told anyone of the forces that guided her throughout her childhood and how these same ethereal forces led her to the circus where she would eventually meet the people she would come to know as her family. Now, these forces were leading her to the study.

Rosie reached her hand slowly toward one of the curtains and lifted it from her line of sight. The study was lit by only by the fireplace and the chairs had been moved back toward the bookshelves. The rug had been rolled up and placed with the chairs. The hardwood floor, which Reaver had waxed earlier that day, reflected the light of the fireplace onto the figure standing by the gramophone.

Reaver thumbed through his records before finding the one he was looking for. He knew Rosie was there without looking up. "You're late." He murmured, carefully taking the album from its sleeve. Reaver wasn't wearing his hat; it was sitting on the table. In the light, Rosie could see that Reaver's hair was actually a very dark brown.

"Late for what?" Rosie asked, stepping into the study.

"Our dancing lesson, my dear." Reaver chuckled, putting the record on the gramophone. "As the best man and maid of honor, we will have to dance at the reception. It's just one short dance, right after the happy couple start their first dance, but I won't have you stepping on my feet."

Rosie stepped closer to her boss. Reaver had a look of lucid bliss on his face as he prepared the gramophone. Rosie could feel something off about her boss tonight. He didn't seem mad that she had broken one of his rules or that she was up past bedtime. He was expecting her, as if he had actually told her to come to the study that night. Rosie often felt she wasn't the only one in the house driven by ethereal forces, but never thought Reaver bought into such things.

Reaver placed the needle on the record and a solemn yet beautiful melody played through the brass cone. Reaver looked like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days, but the manner in which he was holding himself up made him look refreshed. Reaver held out his hand to Rosie. "Shall we, Rosie?"

Guided by something else entirely, Rosie gently laid her hand in Reaver's, letting him lead a slow waltz to the disturbingly beautiful music coming from the gramophone. Rosie didn't look at Reaver, who seemed determined to look in Rosie's eyes. Rosie was surprisingly light on her feet.

"Do smile a bit, my dove." Reaver chided, keeping his hand on Rosie's waist. "From my understanding, a wedding is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"The others would beg to differ, Sir." Rosie retorted. The dance didn't stop. The violins from the record guided the two in this dance, seamlessly gliding across the floor along with the spirits. The music was smooth like silk and entranced Rosie despite her misgivings from earlier. "They only see what they are losing from this."

Reaver only nodded before pulling Rosie closer. "It is a tragedy, I suppose." Reaver sighed. "I'll be losing the best cook and assistant I ever had. Ahh, but that is life. When the sun sets and night comes, we often hide from it instead of embracing it. We act as if the sun will never rise again. If I had my way, I'd order Hatch and Miss Sarah to stay put."

"I thought you did have your way." Rosie found herself being twirled slowly by Reaver. The room had a feeling of openness, despite the closeness of the two.

Reaver only laughed. "In my manor, I am master. But when I leave these halls, I am only Reaver. Granted, it does command a sort of respect and awe, but it's a hollow thing. I can shout all the orders I want, but I can't very well command someone to stop being human." Reaver pulled Rosie back to him and waltzed around the gramophone without incident. "I tried once, it didn't end well. Couldn't stay in Bloodstone after that horrid incident, which is why I only go back when I'm needed."

Only a hum came from Rosie's lips. In the light of the fire, Rosie's face took a softer design. Reaver almost had to do a double take when he saw the peaceful smile grace across Rosie's face. Where she often looked like she was at a funeral, the moment had Rosie in a tender spot. She looked almost human to Reaver and that's exactly what he was going for. He'd need her to be human for what he had planned.

"You know Rosie; if you tried hard enough you could actually pass as human." Reaver joked. Rosie made no reaction. "Now, don't pout like a child! It's called a joke; you know those offbeat little statements that are supposed to make people laugh?"

Rosie lifted her eyes and matched her boss's gaze. Reaver never realized it, but Rosie's eyes seemed to change color. Usually, they were brown but tonight they seemed to change from brown to green. Just when he thought he knew Rosie, Reaver found himself second guessing again. Rosie had the look of a life lived, though she was only in her late twenties (or so she claimed). The other servants often said Reaver had this look about him.

The spirits seemed to be guiding the two in this ethereal dance. It almost seemed as if only Reaver and Rosie existed. Rosie found herself relaxing, but she knew better than to do that around Reaver.

"The manor will be lonesome without Hatch, I will admit. He keeps this place up and running. I often think he's like a wife in that regard." Reaver joked. Rosie said nothing. "A conversation usually has two people talking, Rosie. I say something, and then you reply, and it repeats like that for a bit." Reaver warned.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Rosie murmured. "Earlier, I accused the others of being selfish for not wanting Miss Sarah to leave. But after the conversation I started wondering what would happen when and if Miss Sarah was to leave. We've been together for years, and when we left the circus we all promised to stay together. I can't help but feel that she's breaking the promise we all made."

"Well, you couldn't very well think that would last forever, did you?" Reaver asked, keeping in step with the music. "Rosie, out of all my staff, I figured you'd have more sense than that." Reaver sounded like a father scolding his child for being bad. Reaver often talked to the servants like they were children.

In the short time they had worked for him, Reaver realized he knew more about this group of servants than he did about his former staff. Reaver made it a note not to get attached to the help, since they never really lasted too long in his service. He didn't even recall the names of his former servants, but Reaver knew each of his current servants by name and everything down to their favorite colors. In the time they had all been together, Reaver became fond of his "Circus Rejects" and like the demented little family they had become.

"I suppose I'm a little selfish in that regard." Rosie retorted. "I scolded the others for thinking about their own happiness instead of Miss Sarah's and here I am wondering the same things they are. I guess we all thought that Miss Sarah would marry Mr. Hatch, move into his room, and life would go on. I guess we never actually thought about what would happen after that. I feel horrible for thinking about it."

"It's human to think of one's own benefit first, Rosie." Reaver extended his arm out and twirled Rosie before bringing her back. "There is nothing wrong with being selfish. Why, look where it's gotten me! Over three hundred years old and I have more money than I can care to count! Though, I admit it's a bit bothersome to be cursed with such excellence and grace."

Rosie cracked a small smile. "You don't look a day over two hundred and fifty, Mr. Reaver." Rosie joked. Reaver glared at her. "It's called a joke, Sir. You know, those offbeat-"

"Yes, yes, ha-ha, a joke on the boss." Reaver snorted. "I guess even you are capable of such acts. The more I learn about you, the scarier my life becomes."

Rosie sighed. "I guess we never thought about whether or not Miss Sarah wanted to have a home of her own or even if she wanted children."

"Do you see yourself doing such things?" Reaver asked. Rosie seemed taken aback by the question. "Marrying some poor sap and leaving, I mean. Do you see any future for yourself outside these manor walls with the others?"

The dance had slowed down. Rosie shook her head. "No, Sir. I don't make it a habit to look into my own future. But I'm happy here, Mr. Reaver. I'm happy here at Lakeview Manor. Happier than I've been in quite a long time, I might even say. I don't feel I'll be leaving any time soon."

Reaver smiled and stopped the dance. "That's just what I wanted to hear. Rosie, I must admit there is more to tonight than just practicing for this farce of a wedding. I am a business man and I only invest in a venture if I know it will be fruitful. I guess I should be honest: I've been observing you, Rosie. For quite a while, actually, and you never cease to amaze me." Reaver stepped away from Rosie and walked over to the table housing the gramophone. He picked up a small packet of papers and walked back to his dancing partner. "I won't insult you with small talk, Rosie. It's a straight forward…proposal."

Rosie took the packet of papers from her boss and read each line. She didn't seem to understand what she was reading. It was obviously a contract of some kind. "What is all this, Mr. Reaver?" Rosie asked, flipping the page.

"That contract is a proposal, my dear Rosie. It states in no uncertain terms that you will become the lady of the house should the need arise. And it has." Reaver faced Rosie and smiled down at her. "With Hatch leaving a strong possibility, I'm going to need someone around to keep this rabble in shape. It entitles keeping my affairs in order, the house in good standing, as well as keeping the servants from killing each other, and so on." Reaver waved his hand dismissively in the air as Rosie continued to read. "I need someone who won't dive too deep into details they need not know, but keeps an eye on the details of the house. I need someone sturdy to not only make the house look good, but make me look good." Reaver snickered, brushing off his vest.

Rosie glared at the contact with confusion. "Mr. Reaver, I don't understand. By the way this is all worded it sounds like you're asking me to…" Rosie's eyes widened and she looked up at her boss.

"Rosie, I won't lie to you. You've never lied to me, so I owe you the same courtesy. Do you have any idea what goes into keeping this house up and going? Sure, you clean my room and help the others with the dusting and the sweeping and the other nonsense, but do you actually know what keeps our demented little family together?" Reaver asked. Rosie shook her head. "Our psychotic family is held together by the glue of caring. You all trust each other and more importantly, you trust me. At least the sanest extent one can. Rosie, I don't want to see that glue undone. It is that formula that keeps this house going. I need someone trustworthy to keep this house and its inhabitants in line. Of all of you, you're the most obvious choice. If Hatch and Miss Sarah leave, I want you to help me keep this manor from falling apart. Rosie, I'm not asking has a passionate man, but as a businessman. Rosie, I'm asking you to marry me."

The entire room went silent. Rosie froze in her spot, dropping the contract and looking up at her boss. "I know it sounds preposterous, and trust me I thought about it. The very idea of the amazing Reaver needing a wife, but I assure you, after much thought, it just seems more logical than hiring a new assistant. I think you'd make a sturdy wife to a great man such as myself. I think it's a good compromise, don't you, Rosie? I get to keep my home in order, and you get the pleasure of saying you're my wife. No other woman can say that, but they do dream about it, that I know of." Reaver chortled and looked at Rosie, who didn't move. "Now, don't be that way, my dove. Think of all you're gaining."

Rosie shook herself from her self-imposed hypnoses and looked at Reaver. "I don't understand…" she murmured. "Who benefits from this?"

"We both do! You get to shed the maid outfit for a lovely noble's outfit and I don't have to waste money hiring a new assistant." Reaver laughed.

"No, I'm asking what brought this along, Sir. You've never been the type to…" Rosie wanted to find the delicate words she needed to keep Reaver from getting mad. "…you don't seem like the type that would want or even care for a monogamous lifestyle. Just the other night, you had three women and a man in your bedroom making all sorts of odd sounds. The morning after, you had Mr. Hatch shoo them away, like they were just house guests. Having a wife doesn't seem like a choice you'd make."

Reaver turned away from Rosie and looked toward the window. The storm was still going strong. Reaver glared at the rain, as if it were a beggar on the street that was bothering him. Reaver often told the servants that he enjoyed the rain, but tonight he just wanted it to go away. "These nights are getting longer for me, Rosie." Reaver finally said. "I am not the man I used to be. I agree, the womanizing and the wealth put me in a bad light at the moment, but with all this talk of weddings and happiness and bunnies and butterflies or whatever constitutes happiness these days has me in a mood. Not a good one."

"If I may speak freely, Sir…" Rosie started. Reaver nodded and turned to her. "…it seems like this might just be another phase you're going through." Rosie folded her arms as Reaver looked at her. He looked like she just shot him in the heart. "Remember the time you wanted to try that new diet craze going around Bowerstone and you had Miss Sarah throw out all the fresh fruit and vegetables we had? That lasted a week before Mr. Hatch had to call in a doctor because you ate an entire pound of bacon. Raw."

Reaver leaned his back against the table and tapped his fingers on the smooth wood. Rosie didn't look like she was done. "And let's not forget the 'polka dot' incident last fall..." Rosie's expression didn't change one bit. "…when you had not just yourself, but all of us in those polka dot uniforms. Luckily, Mr. Hatch was able to talk you out of that phase before you refurnished the entire house."

"You make it sound like I need Hatch around to keep me from doing stupid things! I'll have you know, that as a man of means, I have to keep up certain appearances and so do my help!" Reaver shouted.

"I don't think you need Mr. Hatch or a wife, sir. It sounds like you need a mother to punish you whenever you've been bad." Rosie stated plainly.

Reaver's eyes lit up with a fire the likes Rosie had never seen. She didn't back down, however. Reaver stared at her deeply, but didn't say anything. He bent over to pick the contract off the floor. He held it up to the light and then handed it back to Rosie. "I don't need Hatch and I certainly don't need my mother!" Reaver scolded. "What I am offering you is an opportunity, Rosie. Think of it as getting a nice promotion without having to actually do anything! You go from being a maid to being Lady of the House! You'll get a nice substantial weekly allowance, you get to shed that uniform and wear regular clothing, and you never have to lift a finger again. You'll be hostess to the most elegant parties outside the Royal Galas, you'll have every luxury affordable at your disposal, you'll meet all the right people, and best of all: you get the honor, nay privilege of letting Albion know you tamed the wily, magnificent Reaver. All you have to do is stay by my side."

Stay…

That word hit Rosie hard. Rosie watched her boss stroll towards the fire. Rosie held the contract tightly. "Will I get a bigger room?" Rosie asked, though she wasn't sure why she asked that. It was all she could think of to ask. She wasn't sure how to process any of this.

"Of course you will, don't be silly! No wife of mine will sleep in the servant's quarters!" Reaver guffawed, taking the fire poker and poking the logs around in the fireplace. "You'll have the nicest room into the entire manor, as a matter of fact. Mine." Reaver put the fire poker back on its stand and turned to Rosie. "I figured you'd know a man and wife share a bed."

Rosie blushed a bit. "Mr. Reaver, I must say I never figured you as a man who would have an interest in me." Rosie hugged the contract tightly. Reaver's right eyebrow moved upward. "I've never known you to hold onto one lover for more than a night and now, you're asking me of all people to marry you. For a while, I thought you were scared of me." Rosie chuckled. "But you must admit it's a little unusual to find out someone of your particular 'tastes' would be in love with me…"

With that last statement, Reaver laughed loudly. Rosie loosened her grip on the contract and stared at Reaver. He was laughing so hard, she could see his back teeth. "You think this is about love?!" Reaver laughed, barely able to breathe. "You, of all people, think this is about something as absurd as love?!" Reaver balanced himself against the fireplace and caught his breath. "Please, don't be daft! Marriage isn't about love! It's an arrangement! A business deal to be conducted and seen through to the very end, and even sometimes broken! Hatch and Miss Sarah can call it whatever they want, what with monogamy and vows and even procreating, but two rational people like us know the truth behind the entire charade!"

Rosie's heart sank. She turned her back to Reaver and watched the rain hit the window. "You want me to make a solemn vow to be with you and you alone but you can't do the same for me?" she asked. If Reaver didn't know any better, he could have sworn Rosie was about to cry. Reaver didn't think Rosie was capable of forming tears. "You want me to stand in front of all my friends and promise myself to you, knowing full well that it's all a sham?"

Reaver said nothing. He wasn't making a very convincing argument for Rosie, but he wasn't one to give up. When Reaver wanted something, be it a thing or a person, he did everything he could until he had that thing or person in his grasp. "Think of all you'll be getting, my dear. You won't have to worry about anything ever again. Certainly not worrying about being left behind and forgotten, because you'll always have me. Well, at least until you grow old and withered and die. At which point, I shall have a nice funeral for you."

Something clicked inside Rosie's head. "This isn't about business, is it?" she asked, facing her boss again. Reaver only looked at her. "Mr. Hatch has always been there to keep your life in order and clean up the messes that were too big for the servants to get. Now, with him leaving and starting his own life, you're afraid the rest of us will leave. For over three hundred years, people have entered your life and left it just as quickly and I think you can't stand it anymore. You're afraid of being left all alone again."

"How dare you!" Reaver shouted. "Let's get a few things straight right now! This has nothing to do with love! Of all the people I have loved or ever will love, YOU are certainly not one of them! You should be thankful that I'm even considering you for this arrangement! Do you think any man would or could get close enough to even feel the slightest crush on you?! You are a frightening woman who has the personality of a dead fish and that's being generous! You walk around here like death stalking its next victim and you leave bad tidings everywhere! If it weren't for the fact that you're the best looking out of the entire lot of you circus rejects and that you're the only one who can wash my sheets the way I like them, I would have fired you long ago! To think I could ever fall in love with a woman who's as stony as her heart is an inconceivable notion!"

Rosie glared at her boss. She no longer saw him as her boss. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to!" she growled. "I won't enter something where I know I'm not loved."

"Then how about this: if you don't agree to the terms of the contract and become my wife, you and the other circus rejects can find employment elsewhere!" Reaver shouted, pointing to the contract in Rosie's hands. "You have until the wedding to decide. Then we'll see who's really being selfish!" Reaver stomped out of the study, leaving Rosie stunned and lost for words.

The house grew silent again, save for the gongs of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Rosie clutched the contract tightly, as if coveting a great treasure. She didn't expect to receive an ultimatum, but she also knew she should have seen the truth. Rosie walked to the foyer and stood in front of the stairs. After an indefinite amount of time, Rosie walked upstairs and toward the servant's hallway. Her body felt cold and her mind had a million thoughts going through it.

She had a lot on her plate and for the first time in perhaps her entire life, Rosie didn't know what was going to happen. A single tear descended down Rosie's cheek as the candle on her night stand flickered an ominous light along the walls, silhouetting the confused Fortune Teller. Reaver had given her an ultimatum and it benefitted no one. Rosie reached into the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a small wooden box. She placed the contract down and opened the box. Inside sat reminders of another time and place, before she and the others came to work for Reaver. Reminders of the last time Rosie was given an ultimatum.

Constant reminders of the past and the choices Rosie and the others couldn't seem to escape.

N'cha, everyone!

Before you ask; no, Rosie isn't losing her fortune telling abilities. As I've written before, her abilities fluctuate from helpful to not very much so.

Wow, what is going on here? More importantly, what is going to happen? Well, I have a bit of a treat for you all next chapter. Guess what? The next chapter is one big flashback! You finally get to find out what happened that faithful night the servants "left" the circus! Yes, I use that word loosely. Want to find out why? Well, you'll have to stay tuned!

How do you think Reaver truly feels? When it comes to him, who knows?

Only a few more chapters before the big day! I can't wait to write that chapter! It's been a long time coming, don't you think? Write me a review and let me know how I did and telling me what you think is going to happen. What will Rosie do?

So, you know the drill, dearies! Read, review, and be merry! Let me know what you think! I crave your reviews lol.

Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.