Before the butler finished returning the contract and locking the wooden box. He got startled by a light knock on the firmly sealed entrance. Therefore, he hurried to hide the box in the drawer under his desk, then he proceeded to open the door.
Seaben’s orders were as clear as a full moon on a murky night. When he discovered the identity of the one who startled him. He furiously thought that he was going to punish her, especially if she came empty-handed and only to disturb his temporary seclusion.
The complexion of the unfortunate maid darkened as she looked at her superior. Despite she can’t see his features, she instinctively learned about the bad mood he was dwelling in. She assured herself that she was going to work harder on her prayers if she survived this sinister day.
He asked while he closed his hand behind his back and walked to his desk:
“Did you find her?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He turned to overlook her. The hair on his eyebrows moved up and down, giving the impression of disbelief. Then he followed: “Really!”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Where?”
“At Mr. Hendrickson quarters.”
He felt that there was something peculiar about it. He required a few minutes to mull the news all over his brain, then he jerked his head toward the maid and commented: “Bring her to the annexed hall.”
***
No matter where the head of maidservants looked, it was the lost seven maids whom she didn’t return after completing her task. But there was something wrong with her. She completely appeared out of place, as if it was the first time she had seen her master. Yet, he asked again, just for the sake to deny or confirm his doubts: “What happened?”
The trembling little girl on the ground cried while drops of tiny tears refused to leave the corner of her eyes. She murmured in a brittle tone: ” Where am I?… Who are you? ¨
After this reply, Seaben’s doubts have been confirmed. Nicolai Hendrickson came to be confident after the Crocotta’s arrival. He is going on the offensive. And this was his straightforward message that he wanted to deliver by tempering with those slaves as if he was telling him: “Don’t get full of yourself just because I am losing my sight. ¨.
A warning flag is being raised in Seaben’s brain. From now on, he should expect a counterattack to all his charges against Nicolai.
The butler snatched a deep breath, then he proceeded to leave the annexed hall. The other maid whom she accompanied him asked ahead of his departure:
¨ What should I do Sir? ¨. And The butler answered her without looking back: “Return her to her family.”
While setting his hands behind his back, he instantly reached his office. Managing the long path to avoid the grand hall. And when he got there, he searched his bookshelf for the contract portfolio of the manor’s workers. After skimming through it, he withdrew one of the papers and returned the portfolio to its place.
The paper that he just isolated was a contract approved under the name of ¨Cellia¨. He rolled the paper, producing a cone. Afterward, he used the fire of the lantern that decorated his office to burn it. The flame color shifted from vivid red to bone white, then to hazel cedar. Seaben observed as the paper on the contract turned completely to ash before he felt delighted.
That’s right, maybe the Crocottas are here, but their act of plainly stating the appalling condition of Hendrickson’s eyesight meant that they are not fully giving him their full support. Seaben thought that he still had a chance to completely slaughter the man.
Re-locking the door of his office again, he retrieved the wooden box from the drawer under his desk. He fastened it, employing the same complex method as before. Then he concealed it in a secret place inside the bookshelf.
An hour passed like a minute, and the butler’s never quite the isolation of his desk. Long sailing on the vast ocean of his thoughts, as he apathetically observed the contract between him and the Count. Off and on, the long hair around his mouth moved to express the hesitation and other times to indicate resolution.
Finally, when the clock’s pendulum sang its terrible melody for the elapsed time, Seaben stood making the decisive choice.
Despite the door of the count study room being open, Seaben chose to tab on the door, announcing his presence. The Count didn’t raise his head from the object of his reading, not because he didn’t hear his butler’s tabs, neither he was disrespecting to his presence. Simply, it was because of the state of high concentration he dwelt in for long hours now. However, he said in a low voice, not caring for the identity of the one who was bothering him: “Come in.”
Several minutes had passed, while Seaben stood near the Count’s desk without motion. With growing interest, he observed the Count’s activities. And although he barely could read what was written in the documents due to the upside-down display and the constant shift of the papers, he could estimate the subject of those documents just from the behavior of his master.
The butler gotten alarmed when the Count dropped the documents on the desk as he inhaled loudly, then he propped his chin on the palm of his hand, tilting his head while looking at the void.
The silence continued. With each elapsing second, the air under the illusion of uncertainty became hotter and suffocating. Seaben thought about words to initiate the conversation with his current contract. However, the words had betrayed him and flew away from his tongue, leaving him speechless.
Lately, Seaben has been truly disrespectful to his current contractor; the Count Di Montez. He didn’t just raise his voice in his presence; he also talked back to him with an accent that stashed a tiny bit of scorn. No wonder the words betrayed him. With which face he is going to ask for a favor now?
When Seaben stole a few glimpses of the Count’s profile, he saw his crimson eyes that resembled two blood-colored drops stained by a container full of white milk were glancing at him. They were devoid of any touch of anger or hate toward him. As if his master didn’t hold any lingering feeling about the discord between the two of them, as if he didn’t get offended by the disrespect of his butler. This is what always puzzled Seaben about this man and made him unable to understand him. How can someone who barely keeps his anger for a few hours manage to hold a grudge that lasted for years? Then, he starts a long payback quest, risking not just his life to achieve the temporary satisfaction that came with revenge. Seaben would have understood if the Count was a grudge holder like him, but the latter wasn’t.
Why his current contractor is torturing himself? Why didn’t he just kill Mr. Hendrickson and put an end to this ponderous prison of internal turmoil and be free?
Seaben remembered when the Count approached him that day and told him that he was like him, betrayed by someone who he considered more than an ally, a friend, a close friend. That’s why he completely understood his feelings.
Seaben, at that time, thought that they have a mutual objective, but apparently, he was mistaken.
He wondered why some people love to torture themselves to this extent while the answer is coherent and right in front of their eyes, luminous as the midday summer sun. Why some people are afraid to free themselves from their own grudge and move on is so simple. Just erase the one who set you behind those invisible bars from existence…
This was Seaben’s tactic to free his imprisoned soul from the dead weight of a grudge and hatred…
