"Is everything ready ?" asked Elvan, polishing a stemmed glass with his personal white handkerchief.
He then placed it on the blood-red tablecloth, a smug look on his face.
"The glasses are the only things left." Aina replied, gently dusting the surface of the silver tray that was going to sit in the center of the table.
Elvan nodded, a vague smile on his lips, before slipping his hand, covered with a white glove, into the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, adorned with a red rose. He took out an old, silver-plated pocket watch, which seemed to have already suffered the ravages of time, given the small rust spots that dotted its dial. Aina watched him stare at the small clock handles carefully, as if hypnotized.
"We must hurry. The masters are coming soon." he breathed, to himself, before closing his treasure and disappearing somewhere in the corridor leading upstairs.
'He must have gone looking for something.'
Elvan didn't really care about her presence, but she didn't mind. He was, after all, the head butler, the supervisor of the castle's servants and therefore could not afford to be idle on such an important day. The banquet was a special occasion, during which the members of the family all gathered around the table.
'A particularly rare event.'
This moment was the only one of its kind, because the Signavit were not very warm and welcoming people. Even being from the same family, it was particularly unusual for them to be together, even for a meal. Their way of life was nothing like that of the common people of the city and that, anyone who had ever visited these places had understood it.
'It's going to be a busy evening…' she thought as she trotted over to the black oak dresser, which overlooked the small living room, where the dishes and table decorations were stored.
Behind a small glass door, closed by a bolt, she saw six golden chalices , elegantly decorated with rubies. She slipped her hand into her dress pocket and grabbed the bunch of keys she had. It was heavy and imposing and she sighed heavily as she began to wiggle it with her fingers.
After a long time, she came across a small key of the same color as the moldings that surrounded the cabinet and grabbed it. She slipped the end into the lock, before gently turning the object and the clicking of the mechanism was heard. The door then opened, and the young woman put the object back into her uniform. She grabbed one of the glasses and slipped it between her middle and index finger. She then repeated the operation with the other chalices and finally crossed the room to go to the large living room, in which she saw Elvan again.
He was busy installing flowers in a large black vase, with application. She placed the beautiful crockery along the plates, taking care to turn each of the containers, so that the family crest was in front of each of the chairs.
She then stepped back and dusted her apron, before settling straight against the wall, right next to the large door leading to the hallway. It was here that the masters would enter, and it was also here that she would have to welcome them. She glanced at the neatly laid table that she and Elvan had spent over three hours on and looked somewhat smug.
Everything was ready: the red satin tablecloth, the black porcelain crockery, the gold cutlery and the glasses, the value of which approached the amount of a small mansion. The bouquet of red roses, arranged in a shiny black vase, perfectly complimented the decoration of the dining table and the two imposing candlesticks that shone on either side. The gold they were carved from reflected the almost blinding rays of the crystal chandelier that hung heavily in the center of the room, quivering almost imperceptibly with each step.
Now all that was left to do was wait.
Tic.
Tac.
Tic.
Tac.
The clock ticked gently around the room, while the two servants did not move, their eyes fixed on the ground and their ears straining. The living room was plunged into a heavy silence, occasionally broken by the sound of their breathing and then suddenly, a slight tinkling tickled their eardrums.
'It's time.'
Elvan and Aina looked at each other briefly, before the young man nodded in her direction. She imitated him and saw him rush into the hallway leading to the living room, leaving her alone in the room. When the third chime sounded, she heard creaking.
There followed small jolts, which she recognized as footsteps. Given their inconstancy and the low noise they produced, they were most certainly those of one of the children of the house. Aina was therefore not at all surprised to see a little girl, barely higher than her chest, entering the room.
" Miss." the young servant greeted her, gently bending forward.
Aina looked up and gave her young mistress an indifferent eye. The child, who was no more than eight years old, held tightly in her arms a soft blood-red toy that she noticed was missing its head. Given its thick, round paws and its small sausage-shaped tail, she deduced that it must be a bear. The sinister-looking little animal wore a thick red ribbon around its arm, the same one that hung from its owner's pale, delicate neck. This matched her black ruffled dress, on which were embroidered white lambs with red eyes.
Her well-made suit, which looked as if it had been made to measure for her, fell delicately along her little frail legs covered with white fishnet tights and down to her knees, around which were tied fine black lace ribbons set with pearls of the same color.
Her locks, as black as a moonless night, fell in a cascade over her frail shoulders and just on the surface of the white wooden mask that sat enthroned on her face, leaving only two bluish, almost translucent irises to appear. The object was adorned with a painting that represented a face with arched eyebrows and a twisted mouth, like that of a screaming woman, whose lips were bound by a thick red thread in which it was sewn.
The child looked at her with strange eyes, before a slight gasp escaped her, like a sneer.
'She is laughing…'
Aina wondered about the reason for her amusement. Perhaps the child was making fun of her? She couldn't have known it, after all, she only saw her very rarely.
"Where are father and mother?" she inquired after a silence, pressing her furry friend closer to her heart.
The young servant found the child rather touching, despite her slightly strange side, and therefore gave her a vague smile, which was meant to be reassuring.
"They're coming, miss," she explained to her, making her way to a wooden chair, before pulling it towards her. "Perhaps you would like to sit down while you wait? »
The little girl stared at her silently, her strange icy eyes flickering occasionally to her face, before nodding, her hair twirling in the process.
"I have to wait for the others, it's tradition."
'The tradition.'
The one that the Signavit had followed for generations, and which applied to everyone, even the youngest. It was customary for the family to meet every month and for each member to wait until the arrival of the others to take their place around the table, no matter how long it would take.
The young Désespoir, who was thus the first to arrive, should therefore wait in silence for the other members of the family to go into the living room, to sit down in turn. Aina glanced sideways at the young child and bit back a grimace as she saw her waddle in place, making those little black shoes creak on the carpet.
'At this rate, she will tire.'
She didn't quite understand how such a custom was forced on such a young child, even though she knew she couldn't do anything about it. So she could only look sadly at her young mistress.
It was then that Elvan returned, a silver tray covered in sweets in his hand.
His gaze fell on Désespoir, whom he nodded to, then on Aina, whose morose look he easily saw. He questioned her with his head, raising his eyebrows, but she remained silent, her lips puckered. The young man put the food on the table, before replacing himself near the door, through which Aina saw several figures rushing into the living room, right next to the place where they were. In the frame appeared a long dusty-colored dress.
'Mistress Chagrin.'
She was still as elegant as ever but had decorated her neck with pearls. She had prepared herself for the banquet and was wearing her finest adornments, those the patriarch had given her. Big necklaces, earrings set with diamonds and a gold bracelet. Despite the darkness covering her pale, tired face, the matriarch shone like a jewel in the sunlight.
Aina noticed that the patriarch who followed behind her complimented the wife's appearance without any subtlety, with his cufflinks made of the same precious stones as his wife's jewelry. The man seemed to be showing off his possession for all to see, a satisfied smile on his face, while his cold, cruel irises almost devoured the elegant creature in front of him.
"Master, mistress." Elvan greeted them, the same way Aina had done it with Despair.
The latter seemed to finally notice the presence of her parents because she turned her head towards them.
" Mother !" cried the young child, before jogging across the room.
The wife's eyes arched into a delicate crescent moon, which told everyone that she was smiling behind her mask. The young servant saw her mistress's hands tremble slightly and her pupils peer strangely at her husband, before opening her arms so that her youngest daughter could throw herself into it. The child wasted no time and slipped her free arm over the dark yet silky fabric of her mother's dress, a soft chuckle of pleasure escaping her lips.
Mistress Chagrin looked happy to see the young Désespoir, which couldn't be stranger considering that they both lived under the same roof. Aina knew, however, that the members of this curious family interacted little with each other outside of the banquets, which was to say the least… Unusual in a family of this kind, whose members slept in rooms that were practically adjoining.
"Mother…" called another voice, which Aina recognized as that of young Peur, who had just entered the room.
With trembling hands clutching his black jacket, he looked like a frightened little animal faced with a predator, but the sight of his mother's outstretched arms made that feeling disappear almost immediately and he joined in the embrace of the wife and his sister without any difficulty.
"Désespoir, Peur." growled the patriarch almost immediately, silencing the entire room and wiping out any shred of warmth or joy that had crept in.
The young servant saw the children jump at the sound of his hoarse and threatening voice. The wife's eyes bathed in a deep sadness mixed with fear, which made her tighten her grip on her precious children.
"My lord, please, they - " she began, her voice almost pleading, before the man planted himself in front of her, looking down at her from his height like a mountain.
Aina saw in his eyes the dark anger mingled with madness dancing, ready to swallow it all up as he watched the scene, she was a stranger to, but unfolding right in front of her. She was almost horrified to see this man scrutinizing the two children with an evil look, like the one he sometimes threw at those he considered an embarrassment.
'Like enemies.'
A vague feeling of discomfort and something else twisted Aina's stomach, who was frozen on the ground in front of the scene she was witnessing.
"It is enough." he dismissed his wife's complaints coldly, crossing his arms over his chest spitefully. "Peur and Désespoir are the worthy heirs of the Signavit and that..." he hissed with a kind of disgust, staring at his children as if they were just common insects. "That is not worthy of a member of this family."
As if their mother's touch burned their skin, the children pulled away immediately, their eyes averted. Rage, whose eyes arched murderously, looked away from those children to walk over to his wife and take her hand. The scene seemed so sweet and - apparently - tender that Aina almost forgot the cruel and cold attitude of her master a few seconds earlier.
Mistress Chagrin's gaze suddenly met the young woman's and she saw her woody eyes glow with what she assumed was a deep sadness, which made her hands tremble like leaves in the caress of the wind. Rage didn't seem to notice, or just ignored it, as he guided Sorrow to her designated place, away from her children and right next to him, who sat at the end of the table like a king facing his servants. The wife allowed herself to be guided by her husband like a soulless puppet, her eyes empty and distracted.
"Well… Looks like everyone's already arrived." laughed a voice that made Aina tremble from the inside.
'Master Envie.'
The man burst into the room, running his hand through his hair smugly.
"You are late." Wrath scolded him, not glancing in his direction.
Unlike the others, Lust didn't flinch and just shrugged, as if the creepy head of the family hadn't just scolded him.
As if he was in no danger of being punished.
"Sorry, Father." he apologized falsely, before approaching his chair.
His treacherous and mischievous gaze briefly met Aina's, and she thought she saw him smile, before turning his head towards the wife, whose eyes were riveted somewhere on the wall.
" Mother." he greeted her, a hint of mischief in his voice.
The wife almost jumped at the sound of it and everyone watched in silence as her soft, vulnerable gaze metamorphosed into something …Colder.
"Envie," she replied in a dry voice, which denoted her usual calm and docile demeanor.
The person concerned, far from being dismantled in front of his interlocutor, laughed as he took his place right next to Désespoir, whose hands tightened a little more on her teddy bear. The wife followed him with her eyes and her gaze darkened as he approached her chair, which did not fail to escape the insight of Envie, who was amused almost immediately.
"Am I not entitled to a hug from you, Mother?"
Aina noted Envie's defiant look at the wife, as well as Rage's indifference to it, who was content to read the newspaper, which Elvan had just placed on the edge of the table for him. Envie openly attacked his wife, about which he always got angry, but he did not flinch, which the young woman had difficulty understanding.
Mistress Chagrin narrowed her eyes before her palms came to rest on her knees and her fingers gripped the fabric of her robe.
"You are way too old for that." replied the matriarch indifferently, whose eyes were almost riveted on Envie's hand, which he had just placed on the back of the young Désespoir's chair.
'Madam seems… to be afraid.'
Dame Chagrin had never really been affectionate with Envie, but that cold side of her personality that always came out in his presence wasn't that ancient. Upon her arrival, Chagrin and Envie hardly got along, but they tolerated each other. The matriarch was relatively cordial with him, even though their relationship was distant. However, for some time, Aina had witnessed the deterioration of their relationship, which had since turned into a kind of coldness, which the matriarch almost always addressed subtly to Envie.
The air was heavy in the room and almost electric between the two members of this prestigious family and Aina no longer really knew where to stand in this situation, which she considered more than uncomfortable.
"You don't make such a fuss with others..." Envie noted, in his usual condescending voice. "You don't really like me, it seems."
"Envie." the matriarch warned him, her hands shaking in what Aina assumed was deep anger.
He leaned back, sinking carelessly in his chair and crossing his legs, as if he was not making fun in front of everyone, of the second highest authority of this family and in front of his father, to which a snap of a finger would have sufficed to send him for a walk in the black dungeon, at the bottom of which he would no longer see the light.
"I don't know what I did…" he laughed, with a deceptively innocent air. "Could it be because of the ribbons and…"
'The ribbons?'
Almost immediately, a violent pain twisted Aina's skull. This was so sudden that the young woman bent forward. The pain hit her like a dagger, spreading from the back of her ears to her forehead, like a torrent.
She saw the image of a dark figure, leaning over her and a flower, which sent chills down her spine.
[ Why did you have that?! ] echoed a shrill voice shaking with dread in her mind.
"Envie!" thundered the patriarch this time, banging his fist violently on the table.
In surprise, silence fell and Aina noticed with amazement that the pain had disappeared, as if it had never existed.
"I'm sorry father, I don't…" Envie began with a concern and a humility that was not like him at all.
"I warned you to be careful with what you say within these walls…" he threatened in a terrifying voice. "Don't make me punish you."
The eldest of the family finally fell silent and calm returned, despite the heavy atmosphere that reigned in the room. Aina wondered what had just happened and couldn't help wondering why her seizure, which was usually so violent and uncontrollable, had ended like this.
'And then… There was this voice.'
It was the first time she had heard something since the beginning of her "episodes". She didn't really know what it was, or who was speaking, but she had the intimate conviction that all this was linked to the memories she had lost. Maybe bits of her past were starting to come back to her? She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she hoped so from the bottom of her heart. Deep in thought, she thought she saw Envie and the patriarch watching her in her peripheral vision, but when she looked up to make sure, she discovered the two men staring with concentration, at the gold jug that had just been brought by Elvan.
'I must have dreamed.'
It was impossible for Envie and the patriarch to have noticed her confusion, given the heated exchange they had both had at the time. These two were also not the type to worry about others, which comforted the young woman in the idea that her impression of being observed was only a vulgar hallucination.
Aina noticed that Peur was shaking on her side, and she couldn't help but feel sad to see him like this. If it had been up to her, she would indeed have rushed in his direction to hug him and tell him not to worry. Aina had always been weak with children because she couldn't bear to see them subjected to the changing moods of the patriarch and Envie. It wasn't their fault, but they were often the most unfortunate in this type of story.
'Children are always the first victims.'
Désespoir, unlike her brother, didn't flinch in the slightest, contenting herself with stroking her decapitated stuffed animal's head while humming, as if her father hadn't just yelled across the room.
What a curious child.
She must have been used to her father's cold and violent attitude. Maybe that was why she didn't react to his anger, even though everyone in the room was almost shaking.
"Well, since we're all here, I suggest we start." announced the patriarch placing a white towel on his lap.
He looked ceremonial, his gold glass in hand held out to Elvan. The latter lost no time in slipping up to the jug and bringing it to his master. From it flowed a liquid resembling a flow of gold, sparkling as it fell.
'Nectar.'
The Signavit's favorite drink, which they thought came from the gods and whose properties would allow them good health and even eternal life if they proved themselves worthy of it. Elvan poured it out to Rage, then to his wife, and to all the family members in descending order. The scene looked oddly noble and elegant, like a painting.
"Where's Vide?" Envie suddenly noted, frowning.
The matriarch jumped at his question before a gasp of displeasure escaped her lips.
"She is sick," she answered coldly, without even looking at her son.
"Again ?" Lust wondered, half plaintive, half annoyed.
Chagrin slipped her glass under her mask and took a small sip, as if to regain composure, before sliding her woody eyes on Envie, as if he were upsetting her. Once again, Aina noticed the difference in attitude of the Duchess, with her usual behavior.
"She's in poor health, I've already told you."
The atmosphere was electric between the matriarch and her son, so much so that Aina was embarrassed. Rage and the other family members seemed unconcerned and even Elvan was unresponsive. These kinds of discussions were quite common at the monthly banquets, but the young servant seemed to be the only one who could not get used to it. She had been there for a few years already, but she still had the feeling of behaving like the first day, as if she was surprised by everything.
Envie sneered, shaking his head back.
"Don't be so tense mother," he taunted her smugly. "You might seem to lie."
Everyone heard Lady Chagrin gnash her teeth and Aina saw her grip the fabric of her dress so hard that her fingers turned white. She was visibly uncomfortable in the presence of Envie, and he also seemed to take malicious pleasure in provoking the matriarch, without showing her the slightest respect.
"I do not care about what you believe," she replied in the same tone, making Envie lose his pride.
Both stared at each other, ready to jump at each other's throats at the slightest opportunity, under the indifferent gaze of the patriarch who was content to sip his drink as if he were completely unfamiliar with the situation. Aina was surprised again to witness this kind of scene about Miss Vide, the only one in the household who was never present at family gatherings.
The second oldest of the siblings, just after Envie, whom Aina had never met before. The young woman never attended family meals and interacted with no other staff member except Elvan, whom Aina knew regularly visited upstairs, where she resided.
He was the only one to enter her chamber, which even her parents dared not go beyond. Aina peered curiously at the red canvas chair that sat at the other end of the table, directly in front of the patriarch. It was laid out so that one would have thought that a guest would settle there at any moment.
Everything was prepared in the event of seeing the eldest daughter of the family appear: crockery, cutlery, and even the nectar which was intended for her. Vide was as mysterious as she was famous within the mansion.
'Almost more than the patriarch.'
Many rumors circulated about her, to try to explain her eternal absence. Some claimed that the young woman was ugly and others that she was disfigured or sick. There were as many theories as employees in the house. Aina didn't know where the truth was, but she wasn't particularly curious about it. After all, it was not good to be too curious in this family.
The Signavit always took their precautions, so that nothing came out of this place. It was also because of the latter, that this name was so famous and fascinating within high society.
'No one knows what happens within the walls of the mansion.'
How could the nobles have resisted a high dose of mystery?
"You can't keep me away from her forever, Mother."