Kyrie woke with a start, sitting bolt upright with a small gasp as she frantically looked about herself.
All that could be seen was darkness.
Her quickened heart rate slowed as she came to terms with the fact that she was in the slaves' quarters in her own bed. She'd headed off to their room immediately after dinner and practically fell on her bed, not even bothering to change into her nightclothes. She'd expected to just sleep like the dead through the whole night, so she wasn't entirely sure why she was waking up now.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was able to discern that Dessi wasn't in her bed yet. Though... How late even was it? Clearly it was still dark out, but she couldn't quite see well enough to be able to see the hands of the clock in their room. This was yet another luxury that slaves didn't always get; all masters wanted their slaves to be punctual, but very few actually gave their slaves the tools to be so reliably.
Slowly closing her eyes, Kyrie leaned back against the wall and sunk down into a more slouching position. She actually felt well-rested, but at the same time her body was overwhelmed by lethargy. It was just so hard to believe that last night's dinner had actually happened. Renard had found her own company to be invaluable... She hadn't realized that he thought of her that way, and it caused a warm glow to resonate within her. It felt different from what she felt with Isaac though, and as a result the two feelings were impossible to compare for her.
She knew one thing though: her hands itched to hold her notebook.
Trying to resist the urge for a least a couple minutes, in the end she was digging under the sheets of her bed to pull out her book: both the source and reliever of all her troubles. Lighting a candle with some matches she always kept at her bedside, she began flipping through the pages of her notebook. She lingered on the pages of Renard and Isaac though, just reveling in the feelings the different men gave her. With Isaac it was a warm and almost protective feeling, while with Renard it was more wild and unpredictable, but still somehow exciting. Isaac was the more stable and known force in her life and Renard was a more of an unknown curiosity. In a sense, he was just as exotic as the lady's many pets.
Struck by the urge to wander out into the garden, she lifted her gaze up from the notebook and over towards the window. Renard wouldn't still be out there, would he? Now that there was light in the room, a look at the clock told her that it was a few hours past midnight. There was no way that he would still be out there... Was she actually hoping that he would be?
Shaking him free from her thoughts, she told herself that she was going out to the garden because she wanted to, not because she was hoping to see Renard. This already was a huge improvement though: before the dinner she would've been too afraid to emerge from the house in the dark, or even emerge from the house in the daytime. Thoughts of whether Renard was out there waiting to pounce her had been ever present in her mind, but now? Now they didn't seem to occur to her; Renard had said that he would never force her to do anything and somehow, Kyrie believed him.
Picking up the candle and cradling the notebook under her arm, she quietly made her way out to the garden. There was no need to be so quiet though: Dessi wasn't sleeping in the room with her and there was no one else in the house. Well... Renard was likely in it sleeping in the men's quarters, but that wasn't exactly close to the women's. As a result Kyrie was struck by just how lonely these familiar halls were; her tiny candle added only a pinprick of light in the darkness of the manor, and even though the hallways were somewhat lit up already, to know that no one else was around just made it seem all the darker. While there was the thought that this would make a good picture, the bigger thought was on how much she missed Isaac. It had scarcely been 3 days since they'd left and already she longed to see him again. Though... If seeing him again meant confessing then she wasn't sure she really wanted that.
Thankfully, the lonely feeling faded as she entered the garden. There was something comforting about the fact that she had living things all around her now as opposed to the nonliving cold of the manor. Stretching out on the grass with a contented sigh, Kyrie rolled over onto her stomach to open her notebook once more. Shifting the pages until she found a blank one, she trembled a little as she set her charcoal to paper. Would she be able to draw again? If she tried to do the one that she'd imagined on her way out here, it wouldn't make her feel guilty, right? That wouldn't be anyone in particular, it would just be the manor. With that thought she tried to draw the darkened halls of the manor, but her heart just wasn't in it at the moment. Images of the faces that Renard had made while they talked at dinner kept flitting into her head, and again and again she just found herself wanting to draw Renard even though she knew that she shouldn't.
Finally letting out a soft frustrated sound, she pushed the notebook away from her and just buried her face in the grass. She'd spent so much time watching Renard in the garden at night, that Kyrie wondered if perhaps her brain just went to him every time those conditions were met. Pushing herself up, she made the determination that she should at least try to find what he'd been working on before heading back in. Maybe that would help to satisfy this craving so that she could draw again!
Snatching up her notebook, she hesitated for a moment as she reached for the candle. Usually when she went looking for Renard she left it where she'd originally decided to sit so as to not be discovered by him. There were no more secrets now though, it would just be silly to leave the candle here. Picking it up in the end (even though it did feel a little weird), she then wandered off to find Renard's current work zone.
Unfortunately, she had very little idea where he would be at this time. Even when she had been actively watching him, it was never often enough for her to really get a pattern for what Renard did. To her it seemed random where he would pop up, the only way she'd even known that he was out and about was by the noises that he'd made. She could almost hear them now, they were just that distinct.
Blinking a little, Kyrie paused in her advance.
It wasn't that she could almost hear them, it was that she actually could hear them! It was not fear that Kyrie felt at this realization, it was apprehension and shyness. Renard had said that she'd be welcome, but what was she even going to say? How could she even begin to approach him? Especially after she'd spent so long not coming out here? Would he be expecting her to say something specific? To do something specific?
Despite these dissenting thoughts, her feet were moving her forward, almost with a mind of their own.
Her light announced her presence as she got closer, but Renard didn't seem to notice her until she was standing right at the edge of his plot. Even then though, it was only the extra light that got him to look up. He'd been crouched on the ground in front of a beautifully flowering plant, his hands dirty with the soil that he'd been working with. Kyrie couldn't help but wonder if he often worked without gloves: it seemed like every time she'd watched him at night he hadn't had them on, but she'd always thought that was the case because his nightly jaunts seemed to be more impulse based. If he really did work without his gloves so often though, she couldn't help but think it was remarkable that his hands were so clean most of the time.
Now that Renard's attention was drawn away from his plants, his eyes widened in a bit of surprise to see Kyrie standing there. For a moment he didn't say anything, he simply let out a puff on his cigar as he slowly pulled it out of his mouth.
"I didn't think you were coming."
His eyes briefly flickered to the sky to see where the moon was up there, and it was about as late as he expected it to be. She was either up particularly late like he was, or she'd risen earlier than intended. Either way, he had to admit that he was happy to see her. Even if she seemed so averse to exploring their relationship, a part of her kept her coming back to see him. This was definitely a step up from her running away in fear, and he would take what he could get at this point. For now he really didn't have any particular goals aside from getting Kyrie more comfortable again, and the best way to do that seemed to be through their combined interests. Hopefully before the rest of the household came back he'd be able to convince her to sleep with him again, but that would be an added bonus more than the main goal.
Kyrie simply shrugged in response to his question, not really trusting herself to say anything. Honestly, she hadn't thought that she'd be seeing him either. She wondered if she was so willing to come out because she figured that Renard wasn't going to be there anymore? Or... Perhaps she had been hoping that he'd still be out here? Wouldn't that mean she was truly quite important for him to be out here waiting for so long?
No... He'd probably just gotten caught up in his project. She did that sometimes, though she had to admit she'd never been out this late because of it.
Renard rolled back until he was sitting on the ground, and he promptly crossed his legs now that he was properly seated. Gesturing towards the grass besides him, Kyrie hesitated for only a moment before taking that invitation. Really though, what was she supposed to say? She felt like there should at least be something appropriate for her to say, but her brain felt like it was trying to move through mud: progress was practically nonexistent and horribly messy. Why was she even out here? It's not like she had anything she wanted to say to Renard. He'd been on her mind, sure, but now that she was faced with him her mind was just blank.
Frowning just slightly at the ground as her brows furrowed, she desperately wished that she understood her own brain. Why was it just so hard to discern herself? She should be what she knew the best but perhaps her drawings reflected her own knowledge more accurately than she thought; she watched others so much that she could guess at their secrets and thoughts, but with herself there weren't even guesses. She was a page that would forever be empty.
While Kyrie internally fought with herself, Renard was trying to figure out the best way to make Kyrie comfortable. Often when he and Isaac were out in the garden they would pass the cigar back and forth, but there was no way that Kyrie smoked, right? Even if she didn't though, she might be open to trying. Turning to Kyrie, almost amused by how much her own struggles showed up on her face, he held out the cigar until it was in her view.
"Want to try? I can't imagine you've ever gotten the opportunity before."
At first Kyrie's face scrunched up at the offer: it didn't exactly smell great, and it felt more like Renard's thing than anyone else's. Still, she was a little curious; was it really as easy to do as he made it look?
Seeing her hesitation, a smirk rose to his features.
"It's easy to hand back if you don't like it."
Kyrie frowned at his words, but it did prompt her to hold out her hands almost reverently for the cigar. It was cute, honestly, just how little experience she had with the whole thing. He watched as she brought it up to her mouth. She slowly sucked in, but almost immediately smoke plumed from her mouth as she devolved into coughing. It really did not taste any better than it smelled, and her eyes were watering from the smoke that she'd inhaled.
Thrusting the cigar back at him like it was a hot brand, Renard laughed as he plucked it from her.
"You're not supposed to suck it in. Just hold the smoke in your mouth for a bit before letting it out. Want to try again?"
"No! No, I'm fine."
It was definitely better to leave it to him. The smoke may create an interesting effect for drawing, but Kyrie didn't find it nearly so pleasant to partake in.
"Suit yourself."
As he said this, he smoothly put the cigar back in his own mouth before breathing out some more smoke. It was definitely much harder than he made it look...
"What... What even got you into cigars in the first place?"
She couldn't help asking him about it. Now that they were openly sharing and talking about their secrets she could ask about things that she'd always wondered about. Slaves don't usually get the opportunity to partake in such luxuries, so what had made him think of it at the Dandridge manor? She supposed it could just be that he first asked for one here, but Kyrie was kind of hoping that wasn't the full story. Thankfully her hopes were met when Renard went to speak again.
"It started back with that old bastard I used to work for before our current lady. He'd smoke cigars all the time, all different types imported from who knows where. He was a massive braggart and took pride in his prestigious collection. Isaac and I hated him, and the feeling was rather mutual on his part. Before the lady picked us up we were this close to being sold off to a mine."
To emphasize his words, he brought his fingers up to indicate just how close they'd been to being sold. Kyrie had heard from Isaac before that he hadn't been on good terms with his old master, but a part of her still just couldn't believe it. He was so nice and unconfrontational now... Renard though... Honestly it didn't really surprise Kyrie that he'd run afoul with his former master. Renard grinned a bit after letting his words sink in, then continued on.
"Anyway, one night I managed to smuggle one of his cigars out of the many boxes in his study; he spent so long talking up the cigars it had all of us slave boys curious, and he had so many that he wouldn't really notice if one went missing. So my roommates and I sat around in a circle that evening and tried it out. There was a lot of coughing, let me tell you, but by the time it was done we'd gotten the rhythm down. It was a good time, and I'm not ashamed to say that wasn't the only time we smoked a cigar together. That first cigar though, it was the best cigar I've ever had; maybe it's just nostalgia, but I've been trying to find it ever since. Every time I request some from Lady Dandridge I ask for a kind I've never tried before; I suppose she's keeping track of all the kinds she's given me because she hasn't gotten me any repeats so far."
There was a bit of a wistful look on his face as he recounted his story, and Kyrie was rather transfixed. He really was so much more interesting when she saw his expressions and learned more about him. In her early years being here he was little more than a wanton flirt, but there certainly was more to him than just that. He and Isaac were friends, after all, there had to be something more to Renard for Isaac to do more than just tolerate him.
As Kyrie quietly pondered Renard, he turned his attention towards her once more, which prompted her to sit up more at attention.
"What about you?"
"W-What?"
He gestured towards the notebook in her hands.
"Your drawing. What got you into it?"
"Oh."
It was a bit of a subject change in her mind, but she supposed that if they were now sharing old stories about themselves it didn't come completely out of nowhere.
"I guess... Missing my parents was what started it for me. Or, wishing that I had them, to be more exact. My mother died giving birth to me and my father decided when I was fairly young that he couldn't afford all of us. I was sold into slavery and when I felt lonely or sad I would trace the shapes of a happy family in the dust. At first the figures were vague, but as I kept doing it I got better. Any time I was working outside or with something particularly dusty I would spent a little extra time to draw. I'd get chastised for taking too long, but I always thought it was worth it. Drawing the pictures was a pleasant escape to me, one where I didn't have to deal with the drudgery of my life."
Kyrie didn't blame her father for what he had done; he'd had a lot of children, and their family hadn't exactly been a rich one. It wasn't even that uncommon for families to sell off extra children into slavery. It was an act of desperation, sure, but not all the people in the 3 countries lived well enough to never consider selling a child.
Renard nodded solemnly to this, and looked out at his plants once again in silence. This was a strangely comfortable silence though, one that Kyrie didn't feel the compulsion to break with something to say. It was only after more than a few minutes of silence between them that Renard broke the calm by loosely gesturing towards the plot in front of him.
"What do you see here?"
"What do you mean...?"
Kyrie tentatively turned her gaze out towards the plants, her brows furrowing a little in contemplation.
"Exactly that. When you look at these plants, what do you see? How do you feel? There's no rush, I'm just curious what you think."
For a moment Kyrie was going to give her initial impressions, but instead she closed her mouth and really looked at the flowers. Renard wasn't looking for what was off the top of her head, what he seemed to be looking for was a bit more of an in depth look. Something like what she would do when she was looking back at old pictures and identifying what she'd wanted to come across and how she could do it better.
The plant right in front of them was what Kyrie started with: the flowers were in bloom at the moment and they were a deep blue that had a kind of drooping bell shape. They were small though, and there were a ton of them, making the plant look like a small tree entirely made up of flowers. Kyrie's eyes trailed over towards the surrounding greenery, and all around the blue flower tree there was a sea of different shades of blue flowers but none of them the same type as the tree in the middle.
"It makes me think of the ocean."
Reaching out to touch the bell flowers in front of her, her fingers were gentle as they brushed against the petals so as to not ruin anything on it.
"And this is like a lone ship on the sea. The overwhelming blue brings to mind more sadness and loneliness than anything else, but since it's at the edge like this it's either an ending of a long and grueling journey or the beginning of one. If this plant was in the middle, I think it'd give more of a sense of hopelessness."
Looking back at him as her hand dropped from the plant, she found that he was looking at her rather thoughtfully.
"A sea, huh?"
Turning to look out at the garden plot, he stood back and took another puff on his cigar.
"I can see it."
Kyrie tilted her head at him then.
"Was that not what you were thinking when you made it?"
"Well no, not at all."
Kyrie expression went from shocked to almost shy at that but before she could quietly dismiss her own words Renard let out a soft laugh.
"No, no, it's not that you're really far off from what I was thinking, necessarily, it's just that we're thinking in completely different directions. I don't usually consider how my work relates to real world images: what I do is I change and alter things until it feels like it meshes just right. Since I finally got to that point with this plot, I was interested to hear what you had to say about it."
It was Kyrie's turn to get a thoughtful look on her face as she turned her gaze back down to her notebook.
"I don't think I ever start my drawings with just a feeling. I always have the image in mind before I put the charcoal to paper."
"Well I can find an individual plant that speaks to me and figure out how I want it to fit into the garden, I can't imagine that lines exactly speak to you."
He chuckled at that and Kyrie gave him a tentative smile.
With that he laid back on the grass, taking another puff on his cigar.
"I think that's enough working for tonight though."
Renard wasn't moving from his position now, but Kyrie didn't feel particularly inclined to leave his presence either. She actually found herself surprised by how amiable and not pushy Renard was being. A part of her had expected more of what she'd gotten in the garden that first time, but he'd been understandably upset then. He wasn't upset with her now, so the mood was much more comfortable than she ever would've expected.
Opening up her notebook once more, her hand hovered over another blank page.
"Do... do you mind if I draw you?"
Lazily opening up an eye, he gave her a smirk.
"Well this is new, you've never asked before."
Kyrie blushed at that, beginning to stutter out an apology but Renard just waved a hand.
"It's water under the bridge. I have no problems with you drawing me, just make sure I look good."
Kyrie brightened a bit at that, and Renard thought to himself that this was much better than having her run away from him. Already she was so much more comfortable thanks to their talk at dinner, and he had to remember to thank Dessi the next time he saw her.
Now that Kyrie had permission, she set her charcoal to paper once more. Unlike every other day after Renard had caught her in the garden, this time there wasn't any strange block as she started to draw. It was nice to be able to draw exactly what she wanted once more, without feeling quite so guilty about it. So as Renard fell asleep in the garden, she spent the rest of the early morning drawing him.