Chapter 08

  Somebody That I Used to Know

  When Adrian said, ‘she’ll serve us,’ I thought for sure he recognized me.

  He did not.

  Or rather, he did not care in the slightest. I stand idly by the door as the two noble folk proceed to chat it up over a cup of tea and warm butter cookies. At least, they are having fun.

  Seated on separated couches at opposite ends of a coffee table, Adrian and Chris talk as if it were only them in the room. They clink teacups, slap each other’s backs, and shake hands for the ten-thousandth time. Yet, they were definitely different. Like two peas in a pod, except one pea clings to the far end of the pod and the second pea wants nothing more than to invade the other’s personal space.

  Chris skips over to Adrian’s side and swings an arm over his shoulders, poking at his abdominal region with the other arm. Adrian, although tolerating his occasional jabs, swats the hand over his shoulder like a cockroach.

  “When did my cute junior develop all this muscle?” Chris laughs without a hint of reserve. “Oh, the days when you followed me like a baby chick—all scrawny and short, what I’d pay to see that again.”

  “Might I remind you, Chris, I am your junior only by a year—and I wouldn’t exactly say I followed you,” Adrian shoots back.

  “Hah!” Chris reels back dramatically. “How can that be?”

  “Let’s just say, you weren’t much of a role model when we first met,” Adrian argues.

  “And I’m your role model now?” Chris asks with a sparkle in his eye.

  “No. It’s just slightly better, that’s all.”

  Chris bounces to his feet and punches his shoulder lightly. Well, not ‘lightly’, in my definition, but only because it didn’t seem to affect Adrian at all.

  “If I really was so terrible, do me a favor and enlighten me as to why you were so passionate in chasing after me—showing up in every class I took?” Chris asks innocently.

  Adrian clicks his tongue before replying, “It was poor judgement.”

  “Nay,” rejects Chris. “You spotted a diamond in the rough, plus my swordsmanship was flawless, so I don’t blame you. Although, your sword skills far surpass mine now.”

  Chris wanders directionless, scanning the fully furnished room endlessly stocked with trinkets. The newly purchased wallpaper of the latest trend, the fully stocked shelves, and the few pieces of priceless artwork meticulously positioned in aesthetic fashion on the walls.

  “My, what a fine living space!” praises Chris, “I have made a great misjudgment, you have more sense than I could have accounted you for. You can furnish a room!”

  Adrian sighs, “Sorry to disappoint, but I have no involvement in this. I simply requested a room for study purposes, and that was all. Truthfully, I did not think they would do anything more than that, much less clean it.”

  There is a sharpness in his voice when he says that, and it stings. I get that he does not like having to come back here, which is why I’m confused that he's here in the first place, but does he have to hate everything about this house?

  “So don’t ask anything, I know nothing.” Adrian ends his piece.

  “How accommodating," Chris rolls his eyes.

  His curious gaze travels to a small fireplace in the wall. Above the fire, a sword is hung horizontally on the wall above it. It’s a small sword, clearly not meant for adults. The blunt edge, nicks, and discoloration on the edges of its blade suggest a tool well used. Being the only feature in the room that isn’t new and polished, it is no surprise that it would pique Chris’s interest.

  “What’s this sword?” He asks.

  “Wish I could tell you,” Adrian says without a hint of sincerity in his voice, “But like I mentioned, I have no clue. I didn’t do any of this.”

  “Indeed. That has become quite apparent. Maybe I would be able to get some answers from someone who knows better,” Chris turns and winks at me.

  No, don’t wink at me.

  Adrian’s eyes shift over to me.

  No, don’t look at me.

  I scurry over anyway, ignoring my beating heart.

  “How may I help you, Sir Chris?” I chime in with a rehearsed smile. Chris smiles back and gestures to the sword on the wall.

  “Would you enlighten us on the story behind this interesting choice of interior design?

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  Now, if it were any other maid or manservant from the House of Rutherford, they may be honest and say no. If they’re brave, they may attempt to improvise on the spot, though it would surely lead to their definite dismissal if ever found out.

  For me, I need not do either.

  As Miss Marbury would have it, making up Adrian's study was one of the ninety-nine jobs assigned solely to me.

  “Why, of course, it is my pleasure. As you may have noticed, everything here is of clear significance to Sir Adrian. The certificates of academic excellence and medals of honor on the shelves, the competition trophies on the counter, the paintings dug up and restored by Adrian himself…”

  I give a proper tour of the room I designed. While I trace the perimeter of the room with the refined aura of a seasoned butler, Chris follows closely behind, occasionally participating with thoughtful nods. We continue until circling back to our starting position, at the sword above the fireplace.

  “And finally,” I continue, “this sword is the very first blade Lord Adrian wielded at the ripe age of nine. As you must know, children’s blades are kept unpolished and blunt, just the way they were left.”

  From the corner of my eye, I notice Adrian perk up. He slowly gets off his seat on the couch and marches closer.

  I take a step back, distancing myself from Chris so Adrian can scoot beside him. With his right hand, Adrian traces the sword and grabs the hilt. He takes a proper look at the sword in which he so casually remarked of having no connection to before.

  “Huh, it really is my sword,” Adrian marvels at the sight. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen since his return. His red eyes open wide, a childlike gleam in them as he takes the sword in. I can still remember when he first showed me the sword. Most kids only begin training with real blades from twelve years old, but Adrian started early. He was only nine. His rapid advancement stemmed from the fact that Adrian had found great interest in the art of swordsmanship. And he was good at it, too.

  “Adrian was very gifted, even from a young age,” I narrate. Chris nods quickly in response, but is already distracted by a piece of pottery on a nearby shelf. “His sword masters regularly praised his talents.”

  “My, a little prodigy,” Chris comments, eyes still wandering.

  “Indeed,” I nod, “One of his teachers found him so brilliant that he asked him to train with his own son, though he rejected it.”

  “Hah! Of course, he did.” Chris reaches out to touch a porcelain cup.

  “Wait.” Adrian stands up. Chris freezes, but before he can retract his hand, Adrian spins around and looks at me instead. His eyes latch onto mine, and he questions, "How did you know?"

  My professional face wavers and my mind goes into a frenzy, trying to figure out what I said wrong.

  Did I talk too much? Was this information supposed to be private?

  “Hmm?” I feign ignorance for now.

  “Everyone knows that one of my teachers asked me to train with his son.”

  “Yes?”

  “How did you know I rejected it?”

  “...”

  “That’s not public knowledge. I made sure of it.”

  “But you told someone—!” I clasp my hand to my mouth, but it’s too late. The words slip through my lips before I can stop it.

  “No one should be aware of that, the only one I ever spoke to was…”

  I watch as the confusion on Adrian’s face shifts into realization. His ruby eyes bore into mine, scanning me from head to toe. All of a sudden, his hands reach out and grab my arms, pulling me closer. He bends over, meeting me at eye-level, his nose inches away from mine.

  I can’t move. My immediate instinct is to shove him and back away, but I can’t afford to humiliate the young master in front of his guest.

  “My lord?” is the most I dare.

  “Bella?”

  “...”

  “...”

  “Umm, Adrian? She looks a bit uncomfortable. Whatever the matter is, perhaps we should first give the lady some spa—”

  “Belle, is it you?” Adrian tightens his grip, drawing me nearer.

  This time, I do not hesitate and push him with all of my strength. But even so, the man does not budge. Still, he seems to be aware of my intent and steps back willingly, releasing his hold on me.

  “I…” Finally, I start to respond, “I didn’t think you remembered me.”

  His ruby eyes light up. “How could I—of course, I—!” Adrian sighs, “I thought you just looked similar. I mean, it was impossible.”

  “Impossible?”

  Yet, here I am.

  “I was sure you left. When you sent me that letter, honestly, I was kind of relieved,” he explains, leaving more questions than answers.

  What letter?

  “If you wanted to leave after what happened that day… I don’t blame you, Belle.” he says softly. My heart tingles with the distant nostalgia of his gentle voice.

  His eyes look away and he whispers, “After I was sent off to study abroad, I thought you would follow suit and work elsewhere. That was what I assumed…”

  I look into the ruby eyes glistening with a glow so bright it feels as though I would evaporate into light itself. He stares at me, waiting for me to speak, to give him an explanation. A reason. An answer as to why I’m still here in this mansion where we both faced demons and came back barely breathing.

  I will give him an answer, but it'll have to be a lie.

  “I can’t leave, Adrian. There’s nowhere else for me to go.”

  Adrian melts. His eyes morph into a fiery red as questions write themselves on his scrunched face. Why can’t you leave? What’s stopping you? Who?

  “I know it’s pathetic, but this is the only place I can call home.” I answer. His eyes slowly revert back into smooth pearls of cherry.

  My heart plummets, burdened by the weight of my lie. I can’t leave, but not because this place is home. There will not ever be a day when this house becomes like home. For as long as I am here, rest will never come easy. Yet, I must stay. Beat me senseless and starve me until my bones collapse into jelly, and maybe I will part ways with this mansion. But until then, I’ll have to keep my promise.

  “So…” Chris pops in. “You two know each other?”

  I look back at Chris, who has his arms crossed and a curious smirk on his face. Realizing how strange we must look, I waste no time creating some distance. Adrian, on the other hand, stands perfectly still.

  I hear footsteps outside, which prompts me to retreat back to my original position by the door.

  “Bella, wai—!”

  The door opens and Marbury enters with the head butler.

  “Honorable guest,” Marbury bows politely as she speaks to Chris, “I suppose you would like to stay for an early lunch?”

  Chris glances at Adrian and me before turning back to Marbury. He then smiles as if nothing happened and replies, “that would be lovely.” Marbury claps her hands in delight and gestures to the head butler to walk further inside.

  “Great! Then please allow our butler to direct the both of you to our dining room. Does Lord Adrian wish to drop by his room before accompanying Sir Chris?” she says, turning her attention to Adrian.

  He doesn’t respond. Instead, I feel his eyes drill into me even as I refrain from meeting his steady gaze.

  I turn to Marbury, immediately dropping my head to the floor at her expression. She most definitely noticed Adrian’s gaze on me. Her glare is ugly, pulsing with disdain.

  While the head butler, oblivious to it all, walks over to greet Chris, I rush out of the room.

  I do not look back.