Chapter Thirty-one: A wavering self solace

The inner darkness was draining the thread of life out of the music room – previously the study room, except for an unyielding shallow light sustained by a small candle near the window.

After each definite period of time, a tune resulting from a careless push on one of the piano keys, delivered from the inner part of the savage obscurity.

The tunes weren’t in harmony with each other. They were spontaneous and unquestionably not blueprinted, but in the interval, which was concurrent with the weak flare of the candle.

When the flare became intense, for a few seconds, it revealed a featureless silhouette in a sitting posture, stationed before the piano keyboard. The head was resting on one hand, while the other hand floating above the keys and occasionally tapping on one of them.

The flare bleached, and with it, the featureless silhouette sank again into the aggregate darkness. And the repeated circle of the silent aggregated darkness and the flimsy, weak brightness that mixed with a lonely musical tune continued, up till the flame ate the whole fuse and melted away the entire wax.

Finally, this absolute obscurity blended with a terrifying silence that oppressed the ambiance in the music room. However, it didn’t take long for this depressing prison to be disturbed by a firm step accompanied by a fainted light that became stronger with each approaching move.

Francis snatched the lantern from his hand, aiming to light and explore all the corners of the room. As soon as the light broke on the profile of a humanoid silhouette, Francis seemed like someone who has found what he was searching for. And without a delay, he placed the lantern next to the withered candle before he proceeded to open the dark curtains that obstructed the window’s transparent glass.

The sky was also dark, yet the light that shined from the stars and the incomplete moon helped in lessening the eeriness of the night, not just on the outside but as well as inside the music room. Yet, Still, Nicolai hasn’t moved or generated any reaction, even his index that’s used to tap the piano keys, now and then upon the rhythm of the flare, stiffened.

The count attempted to break this melancholic atmosphere by asking:

“When did it start?¨ referring to Lady Akila’s comment at the dinner.

At last, the black shadow moved and looked at Francis; his incomprehensible lineaments concealed a raging fire made not just from anger but also desperation. However, his underlying gauging determination made his general demeanor indifferent. He said with a calm voice like a passing breeze: “She is terrifying…”

Francis answered, trying to be consoling: “All the women are terrifying.”

The Count certainly in Mr. Hendrickson’s view, didn’t give this answer only because he also had quite a trouble with some woman, thus Nicolai smiled before he commented: “When I had seen the girl in the coffin, I understood right away that your relationship with the Duchess of De Noblis won’t be described as good as it was.” His smile was crafty, more than being modest.

A bleak glance quickly appeared on the Count’s face as quickly it faded and it was all that Mr. Hendrickson wanted to confirm his uncertainty.

“Do not change the subject.” Francis replied, trying to be neutral, but his voice gave away a degree of discomfort when he heard the Duchess’s name, therefore he resumed the first subject, aiming to cover his irritation: “Do you suppose that the state of anemia is related to your defective eyesight?”

“Maybe…”

“If you notified me, I may have increased your ratio.”

“Are you going to increase my ration?”

“Maybe!”

“Well, this is an offer hard to turn down…”

The tune of Nicolai carried a mocking texture, and Francis felt it between the fold of his words. Hence, it was the aftermath of their interactions. Yet Francis’s heart ticked with a bit of guilt, he expressed it by using his chivalrous etiquette: “You must have understood that your past connections are now profitless; you need to forget all of them, they won’t serve you longer. Currently, I am your sole ally.”

“However, I do not think that your butler approves of your statement…”

Directly, Francis perceived that this last comment was a verbal ploy. Much like the first comment on women.

Well, honestly, Francis admired Nicolai. He really admires him. Perhaps, because of his firm strength to never give up, even when he is at the bottom of his defeat, He will forever try to find an exit by learning about the developments between the surrounding individuals, using all the tricky ways.

He considered how to respond to this remark so he could evade this trap. If he disregarded it and changed the topic, then he would be without a doubt confirming whatever thoughts that Nicolai had, and if he committed to the silence, he will just increase his skepticism and it will make him extra vigilant for the incoming interactions. There was only one way he could think of after he correctly had forged his reply in his mind to confirm his words: “He doesn’t just disagree with me, but I will assure you he despises you for some unknown reasons… at least to me.”

It was a smart reply, or that what Nicolai had thought because it seemed to him that the Count had pushed the offensive button, and he was now extremely cautious about what he said and consequently in what he will do later.

The ongoing issue about the Chimera farm became less visible in Nicolai’s mind. He wondered what was the real path the Count had chosen?

Is Francis going to concede to the Crocotta as he had told him before, then the disagreement with his butler will not get mended, it will only grow larger? Nevertheless, the possibility of what Francis said about giving up and a peaceful retreat was a mere talk for general consumption.

Despite all the Count’s flexible and permissive conduct, especially toward Nicolai. He was, and still, in the end, one of the fearsome pure blood nobles.

Finally, Nicolai decided that there was no merit in enduring a sterile conversation. Hence, he pretended to be tired, requiring some rest. But before he got out of the music room, he noted: “I will gladly take your proposal about increasing my ration.”

Francis couldn’t help himself and smiled and said in his mind: “no wonder Lady Akila face-slapped him with such a force in front of everybody. I am certain that Seaben will dance over the moon when his informer relays this information to him.”

Francis watched the unsteady steps of Mr. Hendrickson as he walked through the hallway. He smirked: ” Oh, my dear old friend Nicolai. Currently, I am your only ally. ¨

***

When Nicolai arrived in his room, the lack of tidiness captured his attention. He wondered if one of the maids simply neglected her duty or the news about him going blind had reached the ear of the butler, and this was his approach to communicate his intimidating message.

He cleared his lungs, supported his weight on the can, then entered the room. After his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, he sought the chair by his desk, counting more on his memory of its place, then he put his injured leg on it to remove the shoe.

What an arduous task to be accomplished only by himself.

Since this afternoon was a fatiguing one – on multiple levels -, he threw his body on the chair, which he solely used for his shoe, giving up on removing his formal clothes. His head extended beyond the chair-back, closing his eyes, not wishing to think of anything and letting his mind fly with the gravity of the darkness. Yet this small wish didn’t get achieved, it was disturbed by a touch of cold metal on his bare neck…

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