66Hi! How are you? I hope you are all safe and healthy during this crisis. I've been working from home since the middle of March and I thought that I will have more time to write but it turned out that my work has become more demanding and draining and I can barely insert some writing time. Sorry for the delay and thank you for the patience.
Anyway, I made some changes in chapter 4 and 6. From the Fenettes being the one in contract with the Britannias, it the Corabelles now.
Eat healthy and drink lots of water. Always wash your hands.
May we all overcome this dark time triumphantly.
Chapter 15
For the love of everything that is holy, what is happening?
Her lips move clumsily against his as they try to find the right rhythm to dance to. Soft, sweet innocent lips pressed against his experienced ones sending chills and warmth to his body all at once. She grips his hair tighter, pulling him closer, their chest heaving together, his arms around her tiny waist and he tastes a mixture of desperation and frustration emanating from her mouth. She clings to him like a lost man stranded on the sea holding onto a piece of wood to keep him afloat. But it is Lelouch who feels like floating. He can barely feel his feet on the ground as his head is filled with stars. He feels like floating – no, he is already floating in the galaxy of desire and dreams and he doesn't want to wake up.
But he has to.
Goddamn, he has to even if it will turn into a nightmare because clearly, there is something wrong with Miss Corabelle if she's the one who initiated the kiss. Added the fact that she had looked dazed and defeated when he approached her earlier. This isn't her, and he doesn't want to force her on doing something she isn't really into.
So with the most of his remaining self control, he utters her name to break the trance that envelopes them but instead of breaking away, Miss Corabelle leans deeper, kisses harder like her life depends on it.
So this time, he whispers her name.
"Ceci."
At first, Lelouch thought that she didn't hear him as her mouth continued to move against his but then slowly, her hands fall away, her body leans back as she goes back to standing on her heels. Lelouch stares down at her wide bright eyes then to her red swollen lips. How long were they kissing for her lips to instantly get swollen like that? Seconds? Minutes? For infinity? But Lelouch isn't able to process the answer for suddenly she is saying, "I'm sorry," and she gathers her dress and quickly escapes the room like a ghost leaving him alone and dumbfounded.
For the love of everything that is unholy, what just happened?
An accident that is what happened.
She 'accidentally' kissed him when he 'accidentally' stumbled upon her in the kitchen while she was 'unaccidentally' feeling down and distressed after the confrontation with the viscount. Oh, God, what has she done attacking him like that? Like… like a mad woman who has lost all her rationality. And to think that… Oh, she doesn't want to think at all especially when it went all wrong. Ceci rolls over her bed and screams her frustration on her pillow.
Unbelievable, what had come to her to act so impulsively? So stupidly? She shuts her eyes tightly so as to hide from the embarrassment that is sitting infront of her, glaring and judging her face. Then suddenly, she is back in the kitchen kissing him, but this time deliberately and slowly. Their lips are taking their time to acquaint with each other, testing but certain. She can clearly feel it, his soft plump lips that tasted like wine and desire. She can clearly feel it, his long fingers digging into her waist as he pulled her closer to him, erasing the space separating their bodies. Ceci can still feel it, his soft sighs on her lips that caused her heart to riot in her chest, his heated cheeks as she held the sides of his face, his tall nose as it tickled hers while they moved with the rhythm their mouths make, his rough voice as he said her name like a prayer. She can still feel him around her, surrounding her with his intoxicating scent and engulfing warmth. If she will only reach her hand, she can touch his skin again. She wants to touch him again.
Ceci opens her eyes, her heart racing. Rising from the bed, she drinks the glass of water resting on her bedside table in one go to appease her wild sensations. She's sweating and she could easily blame it on the summer night but who will she be kidding? Only herself and the four corners of her room.
This is ridiculous! Was she really lusting over a man who is four years younger than her just now? That's right, Ceci, you are older than him so get a hold of yourself.
But as much as she tries to, as much as she badly wants to, her whole being was already disturbed by her mistake and she cannot see this disturbance going away any time sooner.
Her eyes fall shut again at the sudden thought of seeing him tomorrow, of them awkwardly greeting each other – that is if she has enough courage to greet him at all. Good gracious, how will she be able to face him with the remaining dignity that she has? Congratulations, Cecilia Corabelle Fenette, you might have just ruined your friendship with Mr. Lamperouge. A good, genuine friendship at that. The mere thought of possibly losing his company is something that pierces her chest.
Grabbing her night shawl and lamp, she decides to walk her worries away. She intentionally ignores the door next to hers as she passes by it afraid that she might accidentally summon the man of her thoughts. No, she is not yet ready to see him and she doesn't know when she will be. Soon, she supposes she has to for the twins will definitely notice the strange atmosphere between them. Therefore, she might as well use this evening to plan a strategy on 'how not to embarrass herself more infront of Mr. Lamperouge' and 'how to gain her dignity and self-respect back' after that incident.
First, she should secure a place where they can talk privately without any interruption. Interruption will only delay everything, and a delay will only intensify her nervousness, she thinks as she goes down the staircase.
Second, a sincere apology is in need. Ceci must craft something that doesn't sound pretentious and offensive given that she is the one at fault. Words alone are powerful enough to affect people, but how you use them, how you intricately combine them unleashes the beauty and ugliness of one person.
Third, she has to find a way on how they will forget about the incident, she mulls as she leaves the premises of the mansion and heads towards the garden. The light from her lamp is nothing but a humble attempt to illuminate her surroundings compared to the bright moonlight above. Insects hum quietly filling the air with a natural lullaby.
But how is that even possible? How can she forget her... She closes her eyes in frustration causing her to almost slip on a stone. She surely cannot pretend that it didn't happen but perhaps, Mr. Lamperouge can. Obviously, he is a ladies' man based on how women easily get smitten for him in a short amount of time. Perhaps, he will just keep the memory of their kiss along with the other kisses he had with other women. Perhaps, he had already forgotten about it. The thought makes her want to hide in her bedroom forever.
For perhaps, he already did while here she is struggling hard to face the awful consequences of what she had done.
At last, the newly-built gazebo came into sight and Ceci relaxes as she gradually approaches the place. Nothing better than to calm herself and think things through in the middle of quiet and nature. This might just become a routine for her to visit the place at night just to appreciate her surroundings.
A floating, glowing red light catches her attention and Ceci squints to determine whether it is a firefly or an insect she should avoid. But then she smells the scent of cigarette smoke. Cigarette? Who would dare smoke in the estate when everyone knows that it is prohibited to do so? A new servant? Well, she didn't hear anything about the viscount hiring someone new to serve the estate. Perhaps, a guest who decided to stay the night here? Possibly.
In the darkness, a silhouette of a man comes into view and it is strangely familiar as she watches him turns to her and she turns back around rather too quickly that she steps on a twig loudly announcing her presence but she doesn't care and she continues half-walking, half-running away, because of all the people on earth, of all the time and places why is he here, too?
"Miss Corabelle?"
She stops on her tracks and closes her eyes. Footsteps begin to carefully approach her.
"Is that you, Miss Corabelle?" he asks again.
Ceci shakes her head. "No."
"Ah, you must be her doppelganger, then."
She nods. "Yes."
The footsteps stop infront of her and she can feel his presence just as she can feel the warm breeze in the air.
"Miss Corabelle?" he whispers.
She pretends not to hear a thing.
"Ceci."
"You..." she breathes as heat blooms on her cheeks."... surely get yourself familiar with my first name already."
She feels him shrug. "Well, if that's the only way to get your attention and to look at me, I'll use it endlessly. Open your eyes, Ceci."
It is the cigarette on his left hand that she sees first - the soft glow of murmuring flame at its tip is something she can stare at forever if it means she can avoid facing him. Then her eyes travel to the white sleeve of his shirt and realizes that he is in his night attire -a loose white-collared long-sleeved with two buttons undone at the top giving her a shy glimpse of his collar bones. His raven hair curls at his neck giving off a welcome contrast against his sharp jawline. And when her eyes finally reach his face, Ceci is greeted by a boyish smile that can make women weep for a decade.
"A wonderful evening to you, Miss Corabelle," he greets reverting to addressing her properly.
"Good evening, too, Mr. Lamperouge. I believe, I've told you before that smoking is prohibited in this place."
"You did. Hold on a second."He holds up his index finger as he takes a long drag of the cigarette before releasing a thick cloud of smoke and discarding the stick.
"It is bad for your health, too," Ceci mumbles as she swats away the smoke that was carried over towards her direction by the wind.
"It's a pleasure to know that you are concerned for my health, but it is just for now as I try to relieve myself of some stressful thoughts."
Unknowingly, the man had grabbed her hand and took her to the gazebo only for her to realize it when they are already seated side by side on the bench with their own lamps lighting up the place.
"Stressful thoughts?" she utters nervously.
Mr. Lamperouge sighs like a man who has been tired for years. "I was thinking about meeting the Queen."
"Oh."
"Everything that happened in the party is beginning to sink in just now and the enormity of it all is mind-blowing. I mean, can you believe it? I'm going to meet the Queen herself." He shakes his head in disbelief. "Who would have thought…"
Ceci gazes out at the land beyond them. In this dimness, everything seems like an encompassing memory. It interests her, how far back could this land that they are stepping on traces its memories that fertilize the soil for plants. Memories that of the early Britannias – of the viscount's ancestors who had built this centuries-old mansion. They who had met her own ancestors when her great-great grandfather and his family were at the hands of a trader who got his living by selling people as slaves. They were not supposed to be at the Britannia's mercy, her mother told her. The Corabelles already had a buyer who would separate each family member to different filthy businesses one of which was a brothel where the eldest daughter would have worked in. But luck was on their side that time and the wagon that contained the family chanced upon the carriage that carried the Britannias as it traversed the side of a mountain. And right then, the noble family bought the Corabelles for thrice of their worth.
Why? A young Ceci had asked back then. Why did they take us from the trader without thinking twice and for more than the original price? It's because the Britannias were good people was her mother's answer.
Memories of her great-great grandfather who had sowed this land and signed the contract that bonded the Britannias and Corabelles for a long time. That bonded not only people but also dreams and futures for an unseen tomorrow.
"It must be nice," Ceci begins as the weight of nostalgia for something she didn't experience engulfs her. "To witness your dreams beginning to come true right before your eyes."
"My dreams… are beginning to come true." The disbelief is still obvious in his voice like a child who had just gotten a new toy. "Is that what is happening, Miss Corabelle?"
When she turns to him, Mr. Lamperouge is already gazing down at her. For a moment, she is enraptured by his amethyst eyes that are purple stars in the wake of the night. "Isn't this what you've always wanted? To have your talent recognized and acknowledged by many? And not just by any other nobles, but by Her Majesty?"
"To be honest, this is more than what I'd have hoped for. Well, damn, I was never expecting this turn of events when I first came here," Mr. Lamperouge laughs. "My talent got little to do with it. I owe this opportunity to the viscount. His words are trusted by many and if it's not for him, I would remain as the bastard guest who stays in this mansion for an indefinite amount of time awaiting for his verdict. My mother never really supports anything that I did so for the first time, I will say this about a noble but the viscount is a good man and I'm glad that he met my mother all those years ago. I know that you agree with me, Miss Corabelle."
But Ceci only smiles. She doesn't have it in her to ruin his happiness with her own bitterness even though she knows that underneath all this goodwill that the viscount did for Mr. Lamperouge is a personal agenda that will benefit the former. She doesn't have it in her to burst his bubble of appreciation after hearing the way he spoke about his mother with subtle defeat and feeling of betrayal. She realizes how she quickly assumed that they are on good terms and endlessly pushed him to see her again when the reality is that he is finally unbounded from the shackles his mother had put on his wrists.
Leaning against the backrest, Mr. Lampeouge tilts his head up and gaze at the night sky above. His eyes collect all the moonlight leaving Ceci no choice but to stare at him. "My time here has been changing me, I guess, for the better. The viscount's support, the twins' friendship, having resources easily available, the opportunities, the cold summer air, you," he blinks at her and Ceci fights the urge to look away, "All of these will never be found at my home and I don't know if I'm ready to let them all go."
"Do you believe in what your mother said? That you are the viscount's first son?"
"Yes… I mean, I hope she's telling the truth." Mr. Lamperouge shakes his head as he returns his gaze up. "Goddamn, I hope so. If not, then there's no reason for me to stay here any longer and I… I don't want that. I want more time here. More of everything here because once I return home, I know I'll never be able to come back. I'm being too selfish now, aren't I?" he asks as a depreciating smile appears on his lips.
"No, you're just being honest." Ceci mimicks his stance and tries to look at the stars the way Mr. Lamperouge would have through his artist's eyes. What images, what stories is he seeing now as he weaves each one with another? "There's nothing bad about wanting something for yourself sometimes especially if that one thing was denied from you for a long time."
"Right? Well, Miss Corabelle, what is that one thing for you?"
He sees the hesitation in her eyes, the way they waver like unstable sailboats. Perhaps, he is prying too much, asking something too personal that brings uncomfortable emotions to her. But all these talk about dreams and desires, the sober atmosphere surrounding them makes him want to know her more. To break through the proper façade that she has been wearing all this time. He wants to know the Miss Corabelle before she falls asleep. Her last thoughts before closing her eyes, her first dream when she succumbs to sleep. But perhaps, it's not yet the right time for such closeness. He is about to retract his question when she surprisingly speaks.
"I wanted to be a pianist," she quietly confesses.
"Wanted?"
She turns to him and the sad smile on her face strikes him. "Mr. Lamperouge, how long do you think I've been in the mansion?"
"Well, since the twins are seven… Two years? They can already have a governess when they are still five years old, can't they?" he guesses.
"Twenty-six."
Lelouch tilts his head trying to follow her train of thoughts.
"I've been here for twenty-six years. I was born in our own house but I grew up here learning the ways of a governess since I was a child. My mother was the former governess of the viscount, and so was my grandmother to his father, and my great grandmother… The Corabelles have been here for more than a century serving the Britannias."
"But why?"
"My family owed its 'freedom' to the Britannias. My ancestors were at the brink of becoming slaves when the noble family met them and put them under a contract in order for them to be set 'free.' The contract states that all of the first borne daughters each generation shall serve as the governess of the family without any protest. My ancestors easily agreed, after all, it was a better alternative than having their daughter get sold to a brothel. So, here I am."
Twenty-six years? No wonder why her principles and lectures are as resilient as the oldest tree. Why her composure rivals that of a nun's. But to know the origin of her situation – a situation that hindered her to pursue her passion, learning that it was never her choice but a fate long decided for her, it doesn't sit well on Lelouch's morals especially when she tells her story using such defeated voice – something that he hears for the first time.
"You can say that I'm a little envious of you right now," she shrugs. "You are now pursuing what you've always wanted to do and have enough opportunities to do so. But I'm truly happy for you, Mr. Lamperouge. You deserve this."
"I… Is there a way out of the contract?"
"I'm planning to buy it."
"Buy it?"
Suddenly, gone is her vulnerability and her eyes gain a sparkle of determination. She sits straighter and tilts her chin up. Lelouch watches as she returns to the Miss Corabelle that he knew but armed with more conviction. "I've been saving my earnings from being a governess and we have a small family business that's doing well now. It's just a matter of time when I finally reach the right amount and be able to put my plan into action. And I'll see to it that I shall be the last one to fulfil the contract."
"Does the viscount know about your plan?"
She nods. "He does and he doesn't like it but I have to do this. I must sound ungrateful after the good treatment that my family received from the Britannias. I am very much thankful to them and we will always owe them a part of our lives but I also owe the next generation their future. They deserve the chance to live their lives the way they wanted to and pursue the things they are passionate about."
Lelouch can only imagine a future little Ceci who is no longer bonded by the contract. One who will go to school and study whatever will interest her. A girl who will have a chance to hone her talent and follow her dreams without hesitation. One who does not carry a grown-up obligation at such a young age. A child who will actually live like a real child. Ah, that's right, that's what's been missing in Miss Corabelle from the very start. It's not that she is too uptight and proper in her behavior. Not that she is too adhering to the rules and etiquette. However, the maturity in her eyes and in her actions are brought by the fact that she has to grow up too soon. Knowing and training for her responsibilities as the future governess at an age when she's supposedly running in the gardens and climbing trees. Not experiencing the recklessness, the thrill, the excitement of childhood games makes him want to run away with her. To take her to a tall cliff to jump together and land on a river. To have their clothes wet without the worry of being scolded and judged. To submerge underwater and escape the ways of society. Just a moment of adrenaline to make her feel free and alive.
"This is for my sister and her future children," Miss Corabelle says snapping Lelouch out of his thoughts.
"Your sister? Aren't you going to raise your own?" he asks.
At this, Miss Corabelle shakes her head and the defeated smile returns on her lips. "I cannot have children. Not as long as I am working here and tomorrow is still uncertain. And even if I wanted to, I would like to have them when I'm done being a governess which means it's only possible to happen several years from now and by that time, I am so past the marrying age and no man shall want to wed an old maid like me which brings us back to my first statement: I cannot have children."
"You'll never know that."
"Never know what?"
"That no one will want to marry you years from now. I mean... You're Miss Corabelle."
The lady frowns at his poor explanation."I appreciate your attempt to comfort my feelings but I have long accepted my fate plus I'veneverbeeninlovenorexperiencedromancesomefindingaloverisalostcause."
She spoke her last words rather too fast that Lelouch could only utter, "What?"
Miss Corabelle abruptly stands with her back facing him, arms crossed infront of her. But the redness of the tips of her ears is like fireflies glowing in the night. "It seems like the night has caught up with you and your hearing has become muddled. Why don't we go back inside to – "
"Did I hear that right? You've never been inlove? No one has ever court you?"
Her shoulders climb up to her ears in an attempt to hide her embarrassment but she is as clear as glass and Lelouch couldn't help but adore her flustered expression. "Yes, but who cares? I don't have time anyway," she stiffly answers.
Slowly and in disbelief, Lelouch rises from his seat while seeing Miss Corabelle under a new light. He approaches her with soft steps so as not to frighten the wary maiden. "You mean to tell me," he begins in a low voice while trying to catch her downcast eyes. He tucks away the stray hair strands concealing a part of her face over her shoulder gradually removing her loose hair tie in the process. Her green tresses gracefully fall on her back like the holy veils of ancient saints. "That no one ever courted someone as beautiful…" He runs his fingers through her soft hair. "… as intelligent…" he feels her shiver. "… principled…" he caresses her cheek. "… devoted…" he traces her smooth jaw until he cups her chin and tilts her face up. Finally, her glassy amber eyes hesitantly meet his violet ones and the sun graces the night. "… and as kindhearted as you. I must say, the men in this place are stupidly mad."
"You're too generous with your adjectives," Miss Corabelle whispers.
"As you have said, I'm just being honest." But as he drowns himself in her enchanting stare, another chilling realization dawns on him. His eyes widen. "Wait, so that kiss earlier is your first?"
He could have worded that better. Could have approached the subject in a more gentlemanly manner. With enough sensitivity for a maiden's heart, with enough care in his clumsy tongue. In a blink of an eye, all of their physical contacts are gone and a good three feet separates them apart. What a way to ruin the moment, Lelouch.
Now, Miss Corabelle's face is a canvass of red like a field of roses painted under the spring sky. "I ought to apologize for that incident. That was so disrespectful, forward and rude of me. It was an awful moment of desperation and foolishness. Nonetheless, no reason could excuse my behavior. I promise that it wouldn't happen again. I hope you'll accept my sincere apology, Mr. Lamperouge."
"No."
"No? You don't… accept my apology?"
He shakes his head clearing his entangled thoughts so that he can finally convey his feelings properly. "No, you don't have to apologize. There's nothing to apologize for and everything is alright between us."
"R-Really?" She must be sick worried about the predicament, Lelouch thinks, that her relief is palpable in her voice.
"Of course, of course. Miss Corabelle," he sighs and chuckles then resorts to covering his face with his hands. Helpless. Overwhelmed. Bursting. "Good gracious, you're like a lightning. The brightest lightning to strike the earth."
"I don't - "
He gives up and listens to his heart. "Ceci."
She halts.
Blinks at him with her mouth left open.
Then her lips settle into a thin line.
She stands there motionless like the period at the end of the sentence while he waits for her answer.
While he waits for the answer.
She breathes. "Lelouch."
The distance separating them is gone in a heartbeat and his hands are on her shoulders, his forehead against hers, her breath on his cheek, the stars on the earth.
"Tell me, Ceci," Lelouch utters. "I am not the only one feeling this way, right?"
She closes her eyes as if praying. "No, you're not the only one."
"Then let me rewrite one thing for you."
And under the moonlit night, Lelouch cups her cheeks and closes his eyes. Under the moonlit night, Lelouch gently places his lips on her waiting ones and cherishes the moment when they are on a standstill not caring if the world is about to end.
He kisses her in a way that doesn't erase their first but in a way that would let her remember that this is the moment when everything begins. The moment when infinite possibilities open before them and they bravely traverse the path unknown together.
Their lips are tentative, slow and navigating. And somehow, for Lelouch, this feels like his first kiss, too, for no woman in his life had he kissed like this before - like he's holding the universe in his hands and he has the power to destroy it. Like a petal floating on water. Like fall meeting spring.
Her lips are soft. They are honey, they are wine. Her sighs travel through his veins and he musters all of his self-control not to devour her mouth because he wants this to be a memory of comfort for her just as it is for him. Her innocence translates to her shivers when he tilts her head higher and changes the angle so their lips will fit better. They are clumsy, those lips of hers, and he easily gets addicted to their clumsiness. Their spontaneity is a puzzle that he doesn't wish to ever finish.
But finish it does and regrettably, they have to pull away in order to breathe and live.
"We mustn't," she whispers.
"Why?" he exhales.
Her dazed eyes gaze up at him and the intense blush on her cheeks are like sunburns from her orbs. He badly wants to kiss her again. "Because... Because I am older than you and society will judge us. And, I'm just a governess. Or rather, I am the governess of the noble family that you are possibly part of. You could be my master, too and that... that..."
"Doesn't matter. All of it doesn't matter. Only you, us, matter." He wants to wipe away the hesitation and fear in her eyes. To convince her that being together isn't wrong. That society is flawed and biased to what the majority and the powerful dictates. "I adore you," he murmurs as he watches the moonlight caresses her eyes, "So much that sometimes, it is too much to bear. That the mere sight of you makes me want to paint a thousand of portraits."
For a while, it is only their labored breaths that accompany the cicadas to lull the night. Lelouch patiently waits as Ceci weighs her decision that would change their relationship forever. Truthfully, it wouldn't be an easy love affair for them. The most reasonable path to take if she says 'yes' is to keep their relationship hidden. Her concerns are all valid and sensible and he must find a way to protect her from getting hurt. It would be awful to not hold her hand freely in public but if it's the only way for them to peacefully pursue a relationship, so be it. It is a little sacrifice compared to the greater happiness they would have from being together. That is, if she wants to be together. If she says 'no', good grief, he doesn't know what's next for him. He wouldn't know how to act after all these confession and kisses. Perhaps, he would consider trying again until she agrees but at the same time, he doesn't want her to do something she isn't comfortable or worse, forced to do.
His heart races faster with all of these thoughts swirling in his mind effectively creating a hurricane of worries and dread. Funny how he is the one frightened now by the enormity of this situation. Lelouch Lamperouge has never been this frightened before.
But through the storm brewing in his head, a lightning strikes clearing the haze with its brightness.
"My heart is going to burst," Ceci utters with tears brimming her eyes.
And she tells him her answer by standing on her tiptoes and bringing her lips back to his so reverently - a silent yes, a gentle acceptance of his confession.
And when they are finally standing infront of Ceci's room after staying at the gazebo until midnight, the governess squeezes Lelouch's left hand and says, "Earlier, you said that I am a lightning, but I'm just a moth, Lelouch."
"A moth?" he asks, confused. And he wants to protest because no, she isn't a moth, she is a full-grown beautiful butterfly.
Ceci nods and smiles peacefully. "Yes... Good night."
They share a lingering kiss before Ceci enters her room. Lelouch leans his forehead against the door while his hand is still grasping the knob. For a moment, he stays like that with his eyes closed, letting everything that happened sink in. In the darkness of the corridor, he prays to God that he isn't dreaming, that this is not part of his imagination or worse, hallucination that often comes when he is terribly drunk. No, he isn't drunk. He barely consumed wine earlier. No, this isn't a dream, this is their new reality now and he can't wait for tomorrow. Damn, he can barely contain himself from opening her door and staying in her room. The wall that divides their rooms feels like the vast Pacific Ocean now.
But no, he cannot rush this. He cannot rush her especially now that he knows her upbringing. He silently says goodbye to the Lelouch who kisses several women in a day, to the Lelouch who entertains and gives in to every whim of all the women who seek his attention, to the Lelouch who sees other woman despite already having a lover.
He instantly opens his eyes as an image of a certain red head with eyes of seas appears in his mind. No, what he has with Kallen now is something out of civility, an agreement in order for her to let him pursue Ceci. He cannot call Kallen his lover anymore since he had been honest with her about his true feelings.
It is only Ceci who holds the sun for him. His lightning, his muse and he is certain that it will be that way for a long time.
Well, as long as she doesn't discover all of the lies he had buried himself in.
"This is to be delivered to the Zevon family, while this one is to Mr. Ernst. Meanwhile, Mr. Enneagram will have his son, Peter, pick-up his order later this afternoon. Do we have anymore orders set for today?"
"No. That's all for the orders today. Tomorrow we have seven scheduled while on Friday, there will be ten."
"Ten, huh."
"So, you're still in disbelief, Ceci?"
Ceci and Rivalz turn to Shirley who has just come out of the stock room to check their supplies. Waving Rivalz off, Ceci helps hers sister carry a box until they place it on top of the counter.
Ceci, curious as to what might be in the box that her sister carefully carried, answers, "Yes. It just seems so unreal how the shop came from barely surviving to selling and delivering expensive products to the nobles everyday. I can't wait to meet the man who helped us raise the business again."
"Oh, you'll meet him soon," Shirley says. "Gino's meeting him this morning and hopefully he'll be able to bring him back with him this afternoon."
"They meet regularly?"
"At least three times a week. They met at the plaza about a month ago and since then, they became friends. Have I mentioned that our savior was also the one who repainted our sign?"
"Not yet." Immediately, Ceci, with Shirley on her tail, gets out of the shop and stands right below the dangling sign. It was the first thing she noticed as soon as she arrived there – how it looks so different yet still familiar. Unlike before when they were only painted, the letters are engraved on the wood glossed with dark colors and varnish quickly calling a customer's attention from several meters away. The wood is bordered with a pair of roses with the bases of their stems together, creating a halo-like shape surrounding the letters.
"Why roses?" Ceci asks.
"They're us. He said that's because the shop is owned by two sisters."
"Incredible that despite all the changes, the original appeal of the sign is still retained."
"It's respect to Mr. Johnson's work."
Ceci smiles. "This man, he really is something."
Shirley giggles. "Oh, indeed he is! And he is handsome, too!"
Brow raised, Ceci teases her sister which she had missed doing for a while. "Do you fancy him, Shirley?"
The younger Fenette shakes her head vehemently with an unbelieving expression on her face. "What? No, I don't! I'm just saying that he is pleasant to look at. He has this dangerous charisma radiating off him that would make women intrigued and swoon at the same time."
"By 'women' are you referring to yourself?"
Shirley hooks her arm around hers and starts dragging her back to the shop. "Oh, stop, silly. I am just admiring his beauty. Actually, I'm more interested on your first impression on him."
"I will thank him for all the help he had done for us."
Shirley hums. "Let's see. Anyway, here, I'm going to show you more of his works."
Upon reaching the counter, Shirley opens the box and inside are pieces of papers full of sketches. She retrieves one and hands it over to Ceci who carefully traces the lines and shapes reflected on the parchment with her forefinger.
"Amazing, aren't they?" her sister whispers beside her. Amazing? No, they are magical. These designs are similar to those can be found in fantasy books she reads to the twins that contain illustrations of magical swords and daggers. And to be able to create several varieties of it, the unlimited creativity gushing out of this man, his head must be a machine of designs and concepts. No wonder why many are instantly captivated by his work. She realizes how immensely lucky they are that they were able to meet him.
"Aren't you really going to tell me the reason of your sudden vacation?"
Her sister's voice infiltrates her wandering thoughts bringing her back to the unbelievable news she received yesterday.
"Three days?"
"Haven't you heard a word I say, Miss Corabelle?"
Ceci shook her head erasing the surprise on her face. She stared at the viscount who was seated behind his desk. On his hand was a pen that was given to him by the late Lady Anne. He never used any other pen but this one just like how he never attempted to find another woman to be his second wife.
"I did. I just… Why so sudden?"
"I reckon you miss your family. It has been a while since Miss Fenette's birthday, eh? Perhaps, it's time for you to reconnect and get in touch with your blood."
"Does this have something to do with - ?"
The viscount suddenly taps the pen on his desk rather too loudly that it made Ceci flinch. Wearing a grin and menace on his face, he says, "It is best to put that incident in the past, don't you think? Think of the estate like a snow globe. Suddenly, it fell on the ground and gained little cracks on the glass. No, it didn't break at once, but as time goes by, those cracks will grow until water leaks out of it leaving the center piece and floating ornaments waterless. And who will be the most affected by this predicament? Not the little house sitting at neither the center nor the fake snow that settled down. It would be the child who plays with the snow globe and that child represents the twins."
Ceci didn't respond.
"And I've already talked to Mr. Kururugi and he took no offense from your answer. But he will remain persistent when you meet again. And I am expecting that it would turn out differently by that time."
"I wish luck to your expectations, then," Ceci retorted politely which brought a grimace on the viscount's lips.
"Anyway, about Mr. Lamperouge's situation, he will be quite busy in the following days. I suggest that you do not disturb him especially when he is working on his art. That goes for my children, too. Try not to be too loud during your lessons."
But how could she do that when he was sending her away for three days, Ceci wanted to ask.
So, now Ceci is spending three days with her sister and friends which the viscount labelled as 'vacation' when the both of them completely know that this is his way of reminding her of the power the Britannias have when it comes to her family.
"The viscount is kind enough to let you go home again," Shirley continues when she remains silent. Ceci scrunches her nose. "Or not? Did something happen? You do know that you can tell me anything that's bothering you, right? This is the least I can do as your sister."
Ceci frowns at her point, upset that Shirley thinks that way. "What are you talking about? You contribute more than I do. Just looking after the shop is a heavier work than what I do. And now, you even found a way to incredibly increase our earnings in such a small amount time. I am proud of you, Shirley and I am certain that are parents are the same, too."
"Oh, Ceci, are you trying to make me cry?"
"You cry about everything…"
"Not anymore! That's only when we were younger and because you often left without saying goodbye," Shirley protests. "But you, I never saw you cry."
"Perhaps, I will when you get married."
"Well, I should get married soon then."
At this, Ceci smirks and bestows her sister a knowing stare. "Are you admitting that you have a lover that I know not of? Who is he? Is he someone I know?"
Shirley stubbornly shakes her head. "I admit nothing. For all I know, you might be the one who has a secret lover in the estate. Perhaps, he is a nobleman that you met during one of the viscount's parties, huh?" She nudges Ceci's shoulder. "Is he handsome? Have you already kissed? Does he – ?"
"And now you are running your imagination rather too far. Be careful, dear, for you might lose the sense of reality."
"Oh, I know!" Shirley's clap reminds Ceci of a thunder which leads her to think about lightning which makes her think about… She immediately shuts that part of her brain down and listens to Shirley's enthusiastic voice. This, this is the one good thing that comes out of the viscount's scheme – being with her sister and seeing her laugh, listening to her small talks and just simply spending time with her family without any worries. The feeling of being ordinary without the need of keeping up an image and thinking of responsibilities. And the viscount knew that she cannot say 'no' to it. She can never say 'no' to her family.
"Let's have a bet!"
"A bet?"
"If you stare at our 'guest' for more than ten seconds, you will tell me the reason why you are here."
"What kind of bet is that? Why would I be inclined to stare at him for more than ten seconds?"
"As I've said earlier, he is very handsome. You just can't take your eyes off his face."
Rolling her eyes, Ceci entertains her sister's youthful antics until her eyes land back to the sketches before them. "Well, if his face is as pretty as these designs, you might have a slight chance of winning the bet."
"Oh, you'll see, Ceci. You'll see."
And so, Ceci spends her day helping out in the shop. Surprisingly, she immediately adjusts with the new demanding atmosphere the shop has to offer and to mingling with more customers from different statuses of society. At times, she visits the backroom where Rivalz and the others sculpt the designs on the wood handles and learns a thing or two that she deems worth teaching the twins in the future.
Late in the afternoon, Ceci busies herself tending their front garden, trimming the overgrown twigs and removing the unwanted weeds with her palms and knees on the ground. She also plants the seeds she took home from the estate which the gardener said was a gift to the viscount by one of his foreign friends. She wonders what kind of plant it will bear, what she's only told was it was good at treating coughs and colds which is very much useful in Ceci's perspective.
"Ceci!" Shirley waves energetically at her from the other side of the gate, her right arm flailing everywhere. "He's here!"
Rising from where she is crouching, Ceci dusts off the soil from her hands not expecting how dirty she had gotten herself. "Who?" she asks offhandedly.
"Him!"
"Him… Oh, him! Well, let me just wash myself and change my clothes. I'll be there in – "
But Shirley is already untying her sister's apron then throws it to the chair nearby. She wipes the drops of sweat on Ceci's face and tucks away the strands of hair behind her ears. "There, you're all good. Come, he's curious to meet you."
"Curious? What an odd word to use," Ceci mutters while following her sister.
"Hmm, let's say that he harbours a little grudge against you."
"But we haven't even met yet."
Shirley laughs and Ceci quickly thinks of their mother. "It's because you were gone all the time he visited that he thought you were not helping here at all. But do not get mad, I think he is just worried about the shop. He's a good man."
The Fenette's shop is a little one-story establishment that humbly lies across the Fenette's equally humble dainty house. When Ceci was younger, it took her forty steps to reach the front door of the shop where her father would greet her joyously together with their ever serious Uncle Jeremiah who would only spare her a slight nod and a grunt. But now that her legs and feet are longer, it only takes her twenty steps to reach the shop.
Twenty steps. It sounds so short, doesn't it? She can even cross the street with her eyes closed.
Twenty steps. It is only ten seconds or so in order to arrive to the front door.
Twenty steps but she stops on the thirteenth.
For she hears him before she sees him - that familiar low but smooth voice of his that has been accompanying her dreams lately.
"Ceci, are you alright?" Shirley asks some miles away.
Slowly, she dares to take the fourteenth step, her feet feeling as heavy as lead. "What's his name, Shirley?"
"Hmm? Oh, I'll introduce him later. Come, you're taking too long."
All of a sudden, her arms and legs aren't her own anymore and she is being swiftly dragged by an impatient younger sister whose innocence about the situation is what keeping Ceci present.
They reach the shop.
"They're here!" Gino exclaims.
And all of her efforts to not think about him the past few days disappear into thin air – a vague memory she can barely remember.
Her heart is in her throat. Her mind is a whiplash of kisses and sweet whispers of dreams and promises under the moonlit sky.
Her lips are tingling.
And when he turns around, the air is nonexistent.
Shirley stands beside her while Gino stands beside him.
And Shirley says, "Ceci, let me introduce to you, Mr. Lamperouge. Mr. Lamperouge, this is my older sister, Miss Cecilia Fenette."
