As the sun relinquished its dominion over the heavens, the moon ascended with a delicate grace. Illuminating what it wished and concealing what it wished not to see.
Erens, read the timeworn wooden sign, swaying from rusted chains. This marked the beginning of a lengthy road, flanked by sweeping grass fields that led to a stately country house. The phaeton carriage jolted along the uneven path. Approaching the country house, one was greeted by an edifice of patient architecture, A house with twin staircases, exquisitely mirrored, ascending to a grand doorway that rose above the ground. Beneath this entrance lay a stone carving—a celestial vista depicting an angel guiding a soul through the gates of heaven, a silent guardian of the threshold.
Behind the wooden doors of the main entrance, a marble floor welcomed the presence of anyone who stepped inside. A corridor stretched ahead, guiding visitors towards an open area where a large circular wooden table stood, crowned with a vase of full-bloomed flowers, and four majestic portraits graced the walls of this section of the house, each a presentation of the lineage of the household's proprietors. The first, a gentleman of dark, burnished skin. His formal attire, immaculately tailored, accentuated his statuesque posture, while the subtle flourish of his cane bespoke a refined class. The silver wisps of his receding hairline and the luxuriant fullness of his grey beard told tales of a life well-lived, placing him squarely in his late fifties. Adjacent to this pinnacle of gravity, a vision of fiery loveliness gazed forth from the second portrait, a ravishing redhead with tresses that blazed. Her hazel eyes, seemed to mesmerize, as if the very essence of the mystical had been distilled within her. The smoothness of her skin formed a captivating divergence to the dark, burnished complexion of her male counterpart. The remaining two portraits, are those of the twin brothers.
To the left of the corridor, the first room offered a haven of relaxation. Occupied by a young man, his body languidly draped across one of the luxurious black couches, his green eyes fixated on his cigar with the reverence of one admiring a masterpiece. His short, healthy hair lay effortlessly upon his head, occasionally disturbed by the graceful movement of his fingers running through it as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, seamlessly blending with the tranquil ambiance of the room.
Jonathan Gilroy was his name. An epitome of beauty, intelligence, and physical prowess, his very presence evoked the ephemeral grace of an angel. Jonathan's beauty seemed almost divine. The way he moved, the way he held himself, every gesture exuded a raw, primal sumptuous act that was both mesmerizing and commanding. A young woman silently stood at the door, her eyes entranced by Jonathan. His mien dictated the room, and she was but a shadow, humbled by his grandeur.
"Pray, dear Anais, is anything amiss?" Jonathan asked, detecting her, without so much as turning his head. His voice was smooth, almost musical, resonating with an unspoken power. Anais choked on her words, struggling to respond, her attempts emerging as disjointed fragments. Before she could gather herself, another young woman stepped forward, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, daring not to meet Jonathan's form. "Domini Nicholas and domini Junior have arrived," she said, her heavy accent lending a unique cadence to her words. "And the repast shall be served forthwith."
Jonathan took a sip of his whiskey. "Did you apprise Lady Amada?" he asked, his tone casual yet commanding. He smoothly released his legs from their crossed position, savouring a drag from his cigar before rising to his full height. His navy blue attire, from the form-fitting breeches to the tailored tailcoat, compared strikingly with the pristine white of his shirt. His sharp, polished shoes tapped lightly against the floor as he approached the women at the door.
He directed his hypnotic green eyes into Anais' brown ones. Her face, a delicate composition of innocence and possibly eternal youth, a dichotomizing image to his formidable presence.
"Yes, we have," Anais replied, her voice soft, "but she has requested a brief respite within the study. She vows to grace us with her presence at supper." She stepped aside, allowing room for Jonathan to pass, but halted him with a gentle hand on his arm. "I must respectfully request that you refrain from smoking outside of this area, as the parameters outside of this area are not designated for such purposes. Please, sir, kindly snuff out the cigar."
"Is that so?" Jonathan asked, directing his inquiry not at Anais, but at the other young woman.
"Ahn, domini(Yes, sir)," she responded, her accent lending a musical quality to her words. Jonathan placed the cigar between his lips, inhaling deeply, then handed it to the woman, who carefully took it and retreated to extinguish it. He exhaled a plume of smoke in Anais' direction.
"How exceedingly thoughtless of me," he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yet, it is prudent to essay a trial of the firmness of established decrees, to ascertain whether they would withstand the rigors of adversity." His gaze, challenging and intense, bore down on her.
Directly opposite the door to the relaxation room was the entrance to the study. As Jonathan turned his head, he beheld Lady Amada, her visage aglow with the soft luminescence of the candelabra, he observed her immersion in the pages of her book, her eyes scanning the lines with a intensity that bespoke a hunger for knowledge. Yet, like a thief in the night, her gaze stole away, veering sideways to bestow upon him a fleeting, furtive glance, a surreptitious assessment that spoke volumes, her posture regal and composed. Her position offering a clear view of.
Lady Amada was a vision of sophistication and strength. Her black hair cascaded past her shoulders like a smooth waterfall, framing a face pervaded with intellect and class. She wore a luxurious dress, its rich fabric resting at her shoulders and emphasizing her cleavage, with golden embroidery that blended beautifully with the deep red that dominated her attire. The tall, dark wooden bookshelves lining the maroon walls of the study created a striking backdrop, enhancing her presence. Her green eyes, filled with a fair seriousness, met Jonathan's with a look of reprimand. Then the entrance hall was filled with the sound of bickering. Junior and Nicholas, their voices a cacophony of disagreement, entered the house, inadvertently saving Jonathan from Lady Amada's judgment. The disruption provided a convenient escape from Lady Amada's scrutiny, and he welcomed it with a smile.
"Our arrival has been delayed owing to your unfortunate lack of punctuality," Junior scolded.
"I had a pressing need to relieve myself, young sir. Cousin Jonathan's not worth me suffering the indignity of soiling my attire," Nicholas retorted.
"I fear I cannot in good conscience offer my hand in salutation to one who has been beset by the misfortune of bodily dysfunction," Jonathan quipped.
"Jonathan!" Nicholas exclaimed, approaching with open arms and engulfing him in a warm hug. "Good heavens, you have shot up like a sapling! Time, it seems, has dealt you a favourable hand, and you present a most dashing appearance, sir."
"You reek of opium, Nicholas," Jonathan remarked dryly. "And your garments appear to be in a state of considerable disarray."
"Accept my sincerest apologies, Jonathan. My brother shall doubtless take the necessary steps to render himself presentable ere the evening repast commences," Junior interjected.
"No apology is necessary, Junior. A person entirely without faults is a being of unparalleled perfection, a stature that requires a vast deal of character and fortitude. I fear, however, that Nicholas may find himself unequal to the demands of such an exalted station." Jonathan said, his tone laced with humour.
"Thank you, Jonathan," Nicholas said, turning to Junior. "You see, brother, Jonathan understands."
"I fear that comment was not meant as a testament to your virtues, but, as the adage goes, 'ignorance is bliss', and thus, a lack of awareness regarding one's own flaws can be a most agreeable condition indeed," Lady Amada's voice cut through the room as she emerged from the study. As she drew the attention towards her, the lively atmosphere dimmed to make way for her impeccable beauty.
"Brother, if you had apprised me of the presence of such beauty at our assembly this evening, I would have borne the discomfort of a distended bladder with greater resignation, and tolerated the urgings of nature with more composure," Nicholas said with a flirtatious lilt.
"Was that comment meant to be a playful expression of admiration?" Lady Amada asked, an eyebrow arched.
"Interpretation hinges upon one's individual viewpoint." Nicholas responded with a smirk.
"Anais, kapere domini Nicholas se domini Junior ne vestih'hih(Anais, take Mr Nicholas' and Mr. Junior's coats)," instructed the woman who had taken Jonathan's cigar. Anais stepped forward, her hands extended to take their coats, then hurried away, shyly avoiding Jonathan's gaze.
"Apologies. Lady Amada, I introduce to you my twin brother, Nicholas Erens. Nicholas, I present to you Lady Amada Vahhuka, from the colonial territories adjacent to the border of Enoleh and Kuhahmah, and an acquaintance of our revered cousin, Jonathan. However, Nicholas, Lady Amada's exalted station and refined accomplishments render her a most unsuitable match for one of your standing," Junior introduced.
"Dear, brother, it is the lot of man to aspire to that which lies beyond his grasp; therein lies the very essence of our noblest ambitions," Nicholas said, gently kissing Lady Amada's hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Likewise, Mr. Erens," Lady Amada said coolly.
"Domini Junior, the table is laid, and the repast shall be served forthwith, once you are all duly seated," the woman said respectfully to Junior.
"Thank you, Nenhara," Junior replied, and she departed for the dining room.
They glided through the stately corridor, following Nenhara, their footsteps a smooth rhythm of relaxed strides, their forms silhouetted against the maroon walls.
The dining room came alive with the spirited discourse between Nicholas and Jonathan. Their conversation, steeped in nostalgia and woven with philosophical musings on life, society, and religion, seemed to build a world of their own, leaving the others at the table adrift in its wake. Sensing the growing exclusion, Junior endeavoured to draw everyone back into the fold.
"Lady Amada, might I inquire as to how you are exactly acquainted with Jonathan?" he inquired, shifting slightly to allow Anais to collect his plate. "Bring more champagne," he added to her.
"Mr. Gilroy made his arrival in our fair town and introduced himself as a gentleman of philosophical inclinations, with a keen desire to engage in intellectual pursuits and discourse," Lady Amada began, "a role most befitting a gentleman of his noble stature and intellectual acumen. What captivated my attention, and that of the distinguished scholars of our town and the esteemed institution of learning I had the honour to attend, was Mr. Gilroy's audacious and intrepid challenge to the fundamental axioms that govern our existence as human beings. He dared to interrogate the very principles that bind our community in a shared humanity. The venerable sages, those illustrious philosophers, conferred upon him the sobriquet 'Ni donah'agere mahsahyan'i'lu'mu'u', or 'the childish angel'. Yet, in my judgement, Mr. Gilroy personified a true embodiment of an ignored truth that challenges even the foundation of divine governance. And thus, I elected to follow in his footsteps and adhere to his teachings. Hence, I am here with him." As she spoke, her gaze lingered fondly on Jonathan, seated across from her. With a graceful gesture, she allowed Anais to take her plate, and in that brief exchange, Anais, moved by Lady Amada's words, cast a shy glance at Jonathan.
"Would you be so kind as to enlighten me as to the nature of this philosophy that challenges divine governance, to which you allude?" Junior pressed, curiosity tinged in his tone.
"Liberty to participate in the unbridled indulgence of existence. To acquire and to relinquish without constraint or bound. To wield the omnipotence of a deity, or to ascend to the very essence of the divine itself," Jonathan responded quietly, his eyes meeting Anais's. The intensity of his gaze caused her to falter, nearly dropping the plates she held.
"Would you be so obliging as to expound upon your notion that unbridled liberty is tantamount to an act of supreme divine providence?" Junior asked, his interest now fully piqued.
Anais made her way to the kitchen, which lay just beyond the dining room, its mysteries concealed by a simple wooden door that required but a gentle push to open. The door swung back and forth with a soft creak before settling into stillness, preserving the secrets of the bustling kitchen from the genteel occupants of the dining room.
Crossing the threshold, Anais was enveloped by a world thick with steam and animated with the hum of conversation. The kitchen thrummed with life, each corner occupied by diligent women, their tasks harmoniously choreographed to create the evening's repast. The hiss of frying ingredients and the bubbling of pots punctuated the air, mingling with the crackle of controlled flames. At the heart of this culinary theatre was a long, sturdy table, where six women worked with brisk efficiency. Three on each side, they peeled, chopped, sliced, and diced an array of vegetables and meats, their movements swift and sure. Anais navigated through this scene with practiced ease.
The gossip amongst the women was as pervasive as the heady aroma of the food being prepared. Anais couldn't help but catch snippets of every whispered word as she navigated the bustling kitchen. "Ni melah tah tua es kuhahmah'deshu. Keh isun oreh tah'habeh bah sahahyan'i. Doh vos isun tah meh'u'rhu ahknahnu fey bah modoseh? Keh meh'u'rhu gy tah ale'ananeh tah bwanteh. (The way he talks is so hypnotic. I wonder if he has a partner. Do you think he would fall for a servant girl? I would give him everything he desires)."
The last comment caused Anais to pause momentarily, a slight hesitation in her step, before she continued towards her destination. She deposited the plates in the sink, where a young woman with a plump, cheerful face was already busy scrubbing another set of dishes.
"Keh doh'nu ehmeh vos sah rhwanteh'ananeh na domini Gilroy (I don't hear you saying anything about Mr. Gilroy)," the young girl teased, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she glanced up from her work.
From the cluster of women at the peeling table, Nenhara emerged, "Mah'es lum domini Gilroy tah nu'ayom fuhr'dah'eh habeh(That's because Mr. Gilroy had her choking on her words earlier on)," she remarked, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Mah'es nu heteh(That's not true)," Anais protested, her voice tinged with humour and shyness. She quickly retreated into a small pantry at the far end of the kitchen, its wooden door creaking softly as she opened it. She re-emerged holding an impressive bottle of champagne. "Heteh tua, domini Gilroy keh'nabah. Tah nalo rhwansah tah rahn'aneh(Honestly speaking, Mr. Gilroy terrifies me. He seems as if he carries an uncontrollable spirit within him)."
"Tscheh, mah'es ni mahkwen ale'hakweni bwanteh, seh tah'es rhwansi(Well, that's the kind every woman in here wants, plus he is wealthy)," one of the young women remarked, prompting a ripple of laughter to sweep through the room.
As the mirthful sound filled the kitchen, Anais headed back towards the dining room. Her comportment shifted instantly to one of professional decorum, the vibrancy of the kitchen fading into the background, swallowed and muffled by the contrasting energy in the dining room. Here, the air was thick with the weight of philosophical debate, each word carefully measured and delivered.
"Dear me, Jonathan! Your philosophical system is grounded in empirical observation alone? Small wonder, then, that the learned scholars to whom you presented your ideas did not deem them worthy of serious scrutiny. For your approach, resting as it does upon the shifting sands of probability, dares to predict a precise and certain consequence, thereby revealing a most egregious self-contradiction and undermining the very foundations of your argument," Junior asserted, his eyes locked on Jonathan with a look of profound challenge. "Your philosophical tenets are beset by egregious flaws, Jonathan."
"Is not genuine human experience, sir, the very bedrock upon which the edifice of philosophy is constructed, Mr. Erens? The sole imperfection in Mr. Gilroy's philosophical system lies not in the system itself, but rather in the individual who espouses it, the frail and fallible human vessel that strives to comprehend its sublime truths," Lady Amada retorted sharply. Anais, meanwhile, began popping the champagne and carefully poured it into Nicholas's glass.
"Fill it to the brim, my love," Nicholas murmured to Anais with a smile. She then moved to fill Lady Amada's glass.
"Thank you, my dear," Lady Amada said softly, making room for Anais to properly pour the champagne. Turning back to Junior, she continued, "Sir, I beseech you to expound upon your philosophical views regarding the concept of freedom. What theoretical framework and moral axioms would you employ to illuminate the essence of this most exalted and esteemed ideal, which lies at the very heart of our human existence?"
"This I would like to hear," Nicholas interjected teasingly, raising his glass. "The gentleman who has prescribed boundaries for the exercise of liberty is now prepared to expound upon the very essence of freedom itself."
Anais swiftly moved to Junior, who paid her no attention as she carefully poured into his glass, skillfully avoiding his animated gestures.
"Let me explain freedom to you," Junior began, his voice brimming with confidence. "Liberty is a radiant reflection of the most exquisite harmony, wherein the individual exists in perfect synchrony with the world around them. 'Tis not a licence to act without restraint, but rather a state of sublime consonance, wherein the person acquiesces to the laws that govern our universe and community as humans, even as those laws themselves are tempered with consideration for the individual's well-being. Freedom, far from being a boundless and anarchic concept, has a discernible structure, a sturdy foundation, and a logical hierarchy. For without the guiding hand of control, liberty would swiftly devolve into tumult and disorder."
Anais then approached Jonathan, who noticed her immediately and moved his glass aside, allowing her to pour without interruption. "But in all honesty, Junior, true liberty is solitude," Jonathan began, his voice calm and measured, "He who exists unfettered by societal expectations, unencumbered by moral dictates, and uninfluenced by others' opinions possesses the purest form of freedom. Is that not the behaviour of absolute divinity? Your liberty comes with an awareness of its repercussions, for even the creator must abide by his own rules, but absolute freedom, in its essence, is the embodiment of chaos, preceding the dawn of responsibility. It is a boundless, formless entity, akin to solitude itself. Look at the way you overlook the dissimilar conceptions of freedom that obtain between yourself and Anais, a circumstance to which she herself can doubtlessly attest."
Junior's lips curled into a subtle smile, as he dismissed Jonathan's retort with a gentle, mocking chuckle, as he raised his champagne flute to his lips. The sudden inclusion startled Anais, causing her to spill a bit of champagne onto the table. "Apologies, sir," she murmured, panicking silently as she quickly wiped the spill and rushed to the kitchen door. The room fell into a hushed stillness, which effectively nullified their spirited philosophical debate.
"Indeed, that is the opportune moment wherein we were obliged to extinguish the fiery passion of your discourse," Nicholas quipped, breaking the silence caused by Anais's hasty retreat. "Miss Amada, would you be so obliging as to regale us with additional details concerning your native land, disregarding, for the present, the philosophical tenets espoused by my cousin, which, I daresay, may have precipitated the demise of your erstwhile community," he continued, steering the conversation to safer waters.
As Lady Amada began to speak about her place of origin, Jonathan's gaze lingered on the door through which Anais had fled. Lady Amada noticed this, her voice never faltering as she skillfully engaged Nicholas and Junior in her tale.