The next morning, he awoke to the sounds of Hans setting the dining room table. He had almost forgotten of where he was until he felt the weight of someone on his lap, the scene of last night raw and fresh. He didn't know whether the heaviness on the back of his neck was for his sake or hers- chaos was ravaging his organs. Social etiquette, day-observations; nothing prepared him for things like this.
Gently shaking her arm, Viera woke up and sat up smoothing her hair from her face. Her eyes were out of focus as she took a deep breath, her eyes closing once as she pinched her nose and let a wispy breath out.
"I meant what I said, you know." The faint words almost caused him to jump. For all he knew, she was a traveler between two worlds, and half the time he didn't exist. All he could do was nod, suddenly feeling like he was the one who was behind- like each footstep he took would be led by her hand. Was that a bad thing?
As quickly as the heavy moment had passed, she rose from the couch with a light smile and offered him her hand.
"Good morning," She hummed. "We might want to get ready before breakfast is done."
With nothing short of whiplash he placed his hand in hers and she pulled him up, and though any other day he would have noted how strong she was, today his mind felt totally and completely stripped. Why was it that on the night were she reveals some of her past, he is the one who is affected?
The strange empty space of his mind made him feel as if life was some entirely different entity now. Was everything like her? Each moment creeping up on him, and he'd never be able to understand it until its importance was obscure- was that what this feeling was? This windswept white space- this endless meadow? He shook his head and set to getting dressed, half forgetting to close his door after him.
When he went down to sit at the table, more of that feeling gushed in his chest at the sight of already seeing Viera there. Uncomfortable, but in a scarily maybe good kind of way, he thought. Sitting down in his chair, it was his turn to utter a small 'hello' and look out the window. The room had never felt so freezing and the world outside never looked so plain and boring. Maybe he really would take up Mr. Zahi's offer to visit, he cast an eye to Viera. She'd probably like that.
"I'm sorry if last night... alarmed you." A quick exhale brushed from behind his mask.
"Alarmed me?" He teased, "It's not that, actually."
At that she bit her tongue. Everything felt strange today- like the normal orbit they had secured together had been abruptly flipped. She didn't need to ask him to know what he meant. Both of them felt strange- both of them felt unsure if they should laugh or talk or remain silent.
Her worried mind traced over his words cautiously, a weight lifting from her shoulders. Nimbe's tea tasted exceptionally good today, she mused herself with the distraction.
"I know what you mean," She sighed lightly, a bright glint in her eye. "Oh how I wish it was like this everyday."
At that his back stiffened and he looked out the window once more. A thin smile bloomed across her face silently before she masked it by taking a casual bite out of her toast. Her fingers twitched at the opportunity to get under his skin, to see him for once be more than the silent, faceless man behind the mask.
Despite that, she tamed her curiosity and let go of that mission statement. She didn't want to tear from him his personality or secrecy. She didn't want to rip into him, and though she knew any questions she asked he would be allowed to decline, it still felt wrong.
"I'm kidding," He turned to her, and though she couldn't see it, she hoped he was focused on her. A soft grin twitched the corners of her mouth.
"Today does feel strange, but it feels sort of nice, in a way." A timid hum came from him as he leaned back slightly. Despite all the words which were barreling together into masses of confusion, the air was thin and simple. The mystery of the past had stolen a spot at the table with them, and now the house felt a little more open with its small disappearance.
"It does." An awkward pause stepped into the room, and both of them had no idea on how extinguish it. Viera continued to eat her breakfast silently, and he continued to look out the window. After she finished her breakfast, she looked at him once before leaving the room to pass the day.
Once she was gone, he clumsily got up from his chair and walked into the kitchen.
"Morning Hans," He spoke kindly, "Do you have my usual plate for me?"
Hans nodded to a covered plate to his right, his hands busy cleaning the dishes. As he walked past him, Hans chuckled quietly.
"Breakfast was awfully quiet today," At the pause of Sir, he spoke on. "You were awfully quiet today."
He took the plate and held it in his hands stiffly.
"What do you think I was supposed to do Hans?" He shrugged silently and continued to wash the dishes.
"It'd be better to ask Nimbe about those sort of things."
After standing there silently, painstakingly over-analyzing breakfast, he retreated to the back door of the kitchen that opened to the rear-side of the house. The ballroom doors emptied into this hallway, and the rooms behind the dining room slowly rounded the west corner. After scanning the hallway, he walked towards the large curtain-framed window and pulled back the left curtain revealing a small spiral staircase. He walked up the first step and closed the curtain before freezing as a metallic sound ticked off the walls.
~⛾~
Turning towards the doors at the end of the ballroom, Viera pretended that by putting more distance between herself and him that maybe she could ease the weird discomfort that was still moving in her chest. She opened one of the doors and closed it behind her, a metallic tick resounding as the heavy door swung shut. She turned and glance around, the wide hallway almost familiar. Her hands cupped her face, wondering if feeling this hot and uncomfortable was a normal thing. Her fingers drew down her face; I can't believe I fell apart like that. The events of last night annoyingly poked her mind with childish-intent. She wasn't bothered by what had come out, but more in the way it had. Self-consciousness coiled itself around her throat- and she couldn't exactly pin-point all the reasons why. She distracted herself by looking onward to a large set of windows enclosed by curtains, gentle pink light pouring into the otherwise dim hallway.
Humming in an attempt to ignore her embarrassment, she paused at the tall windows and peered over the grounds of the back of the house, an enclosed lawn and looming hedge maze meeting her eyes. Her feet led her past the curtains and around the corner of the hallway, revealing a tall set of heavy doors facing outside.
Her fingers stiffened as she wrapped them around the handle, a small voice murmuring in the back of her mind. Am I allowed to do this? But as soon as the voice murmured those words, she shook her head. I will not be what I was to Sir M here. And besides, he would have told me if I should avoid a certain place, like his room. Another pause. This is my home now- and with that, she unlocked the door and stepped outside- her senses overwhelmed by the smells and sounds that she had almost forgotten existed. She hadn't been outside since she had first entered the doors of this house, and somehow it now felt like a ginormous task. The suffocating air of the house seemed like a prison in comparison to the air here- the gentle musk of roses and grass causing her to halt in her steps. A cool breeze tread its fingers through her hair and dress, her eyes closing as her skin relished in the sensation. Her thoughts melted away as something different took its place- those natural and primal voices yawning within her.
She took out the pins of her hair and unbraided the back portion that Nimbe taught her how to do, her hands itching with the need to touch and her eyelids growing heavy as her ears sought for the sounds of the trees singing their slow hymns and the birds offering accompaniment. The hedge maze seemed to beckon her forward like it was the embrace of an eternal friend, and with nothing but a drugged gaze, she submit and walked inside.
The entrance was marked by two white pillars hinting at Roman influences. Her hand fanned across the evergreen hedges, their alpine needles tracing the crevices of her palm and fingers. The heat of the sun caressed her skin at the repetitive angle over the tall hedges and it seemed to cast away all the chaotic thoughts fighting for dominance and attention.
Her body moved with a mind of its own as she walked further and further inside, the natural voices of birds and trees seemed to sing together amid the choir of the green world- the world she was made for, meant for. She couldn't help the peaceful beam that warmly snuggled itself across her teeth. This world was as much a part of her creation as them- this world was every bit of her as it were itself. Words to an childhood song curled under her tongue, and as the voices rushed to the surface like bubbles from the deep sea, she let her voice submit to the lyrics.
"When the wind is low, and the sea is soft, And the far heat-lightning plays..." Her mind coiled and melted into itself- her voice lowering as the murmurs in her veins all contorted together.
"On the rim of the west, where dark clouds nest, on a darker bank of haze;" A deep exhale bubbled from her mouth like blood, her fingers tracing circle paths into the prickly branches. Her ribs and limbs seemed to tremor, part of her wondering if it would be safe to fall apart in the vast catacombs of the hedges.
"When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love, And gaze to my heart's content;"
It was such a sweet tempting offer- the pain was sure to fade- it was a moments agony for an eternity of strength and peace. Why was it always this human cast that was extracted from the collective mass of everything she was capable? Why couldn't she be this while being everything? Her smooth voice seemed like evidence to that question, everything mixing together into ombre tones.
Another answer brushed itself across her arms; the coarse fur, the gentle scales, the weightless feathers. Maybe being everything at once wouldn't be as satisfying as she thought- perhaps it was even impossible. Being everything wasn't a matter of flesh- of organs decaying and bones liquefying. It was a matter of want- of pointing all those parts and pieces towards the same direction. She realized that was the only amount of 'everything' she could ever be.
"I know that the heavens are there above — But you are my firmament."
The realization didn't taste as sweet as the thrill of change and recklessness, but it was more true than that. It held more life- more wisdom and levelheadedness. The memory of the blood she lost last time, the potential fallout with John and the others; it would be better to take things slow.
After awhile of walking, her head lost in thought, she stopped and looked around her for a moment, the hedges of the maze blurring together and seeming to span endlessly. The attempt to look over the maze on her tip-toes did nothing, an ironic laugh echoing faintly. For a moment, she stood still and covered half her face as the embarrassment she had escaped from sparkled to life like a delicate flower. So much for taking it slow.
Casting a hand over her nose, she relaxed and winced slightly as the familiar stabbing and burning sensation raked from the top of her throat and down the thin canals of her nostrils. She couldn't help but cough roughly as her airways bent painfully before lengthening and increasing the pressure against the bones of her cheeks.
Once the pain faded away, she cradled her nose tenderly- her finger tracing the cat-like features tenderly. Taking a timid breath, she set to seeding through the intense smells of the hedges and grass and trees and flowers. She shook her head and forced herself to focus. Pressing the sleeve of her shirt into her nose, she memorized the clean smell of the cotton, and the someway familiar scent of her skin. Closing her eyes to memorize it, she took a deep breath every few steps and wandered slowly.
~⛾~
Once she had passed the window, he continued up the stairs and into his room drawing another curtain. His skin seemed to gasp to life once he took off the hot cloth from his head. Without another thought he fell into his usual routine- eating, looking over maps and opening tightly sealed letters. For all the progress he thought he was making each day, he crumpled up the letters and wrote back to none of them. What was the use of paying someone if they couldn't do their job?
After a long period of gazing at the wall and digging himself into deeper graves of dead-end theories and ideas, he glanced at the map once more and thought about throwing it away. He had told himself he was doing all of this- the newspaper clippings, the pictures, the school yearbooks- all of this was for other people. For people so that they would never have to go through what he did.
He closed his eyes tiredly. But was it really? Was it really for them? Rubbing his temples roughly, he sat up and looked out the window, fighting as he always was to avoid his thoughts. Looking across the usual structure of the yard, he almost missed Viera wandering through the hedge maze. Seeing someone in it other than himself made him blink his eyes, checking to make sure she wasn't some roaming spirit. At that moment, she stopped, and though he wasn't there, he could tell she was lost.
Heading back towards the curtains, he pulled on his mask and tightened the collar of his shirt around it, his gloves still on. Once he returned to the ground floor in a matter of seconds, he walked down the hall and peeled back the door- only to bump heads with Viera herself.
"Sorry-" He stammered, noticing she was covering her nose. "Are you ok?"
Alarmed he might see her modified nose, she let a mild wince slip from her eyes as the cartilage and pressure dimmed.
"I'm fine," As quickly as she had said it, she laughed nervously and tenderly drew her hand away from her face.
"I'm gifted at healing, remember?" The sentence felt odd to reply to, but with her, he realized that odd would have to become the new normal.
"I almost forgot- and I must say, I envy you for it." Instead of the initial bitterness she first felt, the way he said it felt less like a selfish want and more like a compliment. The reenactment of their first morning felt like it was a chance to retry a complex waltz, and that if they laid their words out just right, the awkwardness from earlier today would vanish into formless wind.
"Envy is a word better suited for shallow children." Cantambre- echoing. Not backed by venom, not coiling up in anger. He offered her his arm and led her through the back entrance of the kitchen.
"Everything is better suited for children," He paused.
"Everything, you think?"
There it was- that feeling again, but much more muted. That new, fresh movement in his chest. It was more timid now, less frightening and obtuse. After a moment of letting his thoughts rapidly make rounds across his mind, he decided it was a good thing.
"Well, perhaps not everything."