Mr. Hendrickson stood near the entrance of the grand hall, watching the outline of the old lady as she inspected the paintings that were dangled on the walls. He observed the changes that her face made each time she shifted her head to look at another picture.
He remained silent until she addressed him, making a comment about the art style: “Has your taste in art changed?”
Nicolai moved his black eyes to the wall and concentrated his attention on larger paintings. He noticed the same thing he had already noticed before when he had taken a tour inside the house after he was able to walk properly by himself.
Back, he noted that his interior-decoration that he selected with much consideration, nearly all of them, have been replaced without exception. Even his beloved chosen abstract paintings got replaced by landscapes and cities canvas.
He returned his gaze to where the lady was standing to see her pair of yellow eyes intensely fixating on him. He sensed that she was forcing him to answer her inquiry.
Nicolai took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. Wondering how he was going to respond to this irrelevant question that he found meaningless and just a passing gibberish without substance related to their current situation. He glimpsed again in her blazing eyes, to find the seriousness never left her solemn face. And at that moment, he deciphered the deep meaning behind this seemingly innocent question. Hence, he answered without delay: “No, my taste in aesthetic, sill as you remember it.”
After he gave his answer. He saw her lip curve casually and her pupil widened. Then he heard her change the subject by directing the conversation to the young lady that was standing not far from him: “How about you? Kanari, What do you think?”
Kanari was long immersed in her observation. The moment she stepped inside the hall, she was amazed by the decoration that matched perfectly her taste, especially the ceramic collection. It hit all her art-sensitive points. But of course, she acted as mature as she could surpass her childish urge to show her infatuation and faked a facade of indifference.
Nicolai was curious to note her reaction; he hadn’t seen her for long. She was an aloof child who was wary of a stranger. How much of that innate trait has stayed with her and how much of her character had developed to resemble her mother.
On the other hand, the Count seemed offended with the topic of the conversation and whispered to Nicolai: ¨ They better stop; I am fading up with women questioning my taste in arts ¨. Then he disturbed the ongoing conversation: “My Ladies, I am convinced that you are exhausted from the long trip. How about we escort you to the guest quarters to rest before dinner?”
Kanari looked at her mother, whereas her mother looked at the Count and slightly bowed in respect as she gave her answer: “Your Excellency, thank you for being so considerate towered your guests. Please allow us to rest…”
Nicolai watched the change on the count’s visage in amusement. He speculated that the count was perplexed at the refined attitude used by those barbaric and animalistic creatures.
The guest quarters on top had their share of renovation. Kanari didn’t remember much of it since it was rare for her to come into this farm. However, she recalled the murky atmosphere that she didn’t enjoy much in the scarce occasions that brought her to visit this farm. Now she thought that she preferred these bright colors rather than the old ones.
Kanari pulled the curtains and unlocked the window of her room. She gasped and felt a tingling all over her skin as the unusual scenery in her window opened up. She recognized the elegant brick line that beautifully encircled narrowed spaces and the grim atmosphere that surrounded the whole backyard. She leaned resting all her upper body on the frame while letting her head in the outside air. She didn’t believe her eyes. As a result, she closed them and opened them a few times to be certain. Afterward, she inhaled the rotten cold air lingering in the outside atmosphere as ample as the cloud. She felt nauseous and sick, hence she retreated inside and rapidly fastened the window while rambling after confirming her suspicions: ” For the god’s sake, why there is a cemetery in the backyard? whoever redesigned the house must have a weird fetish.”
She put a piece of perfumed fabric to cover her nose and mouth fighting the rotten smell that poisoned her olfactory sense, then she inhaled and exiled in it several times before she took it away and threw it on the bed as she stretched leisurely on it.
She closed her pale yellow eyes, thinking about the three individuals whom they were waiting for their arrival. The black-haired one using the cane was Mr. Nicolai Hendrickson, her mother long associate rather than a friend. She feared that she didn’t remember him clearly since he really changed, not in his physical appearance. Instead, it was something fundamental to his entire existence. Yet, the resentful sour taste that he left in her mouth when she first met him didn’t change.
Call it instinct or the extrasensory ability, at that time, the young innocent girl decided for some unknown reason that she didn’t like this cryptic black ghost. And she recalled her mother answer when she told her about what she had felt: ¨ people are different, they came in all kinds of various flavors, colors, and shapes and sometimes we feel indifferent to their existence, sometimes they unexpectedly complimented us like a lost piece of the puzzle from ourselves, and sometimes their presence hit us all in wrong places thus we hate them and maybe plot to kill them. But there is a better method than wasting effort in hating and killing them and it is more practical and way, way more satisfying. Can you guess what is it?… It is to use them to your advantage. ¨
How deep and obscure those words back then, and how her mother was right about what she said. And this became one of the main reasons that made her accompany her mother today on this diplomatic trip. Even though she wasn’t convinced by the rational motives of these pointless negotiations – made by her mother since her clan has the upper hand in the current situation.
Pondering about the present situation, her mind jumped to the image of the crimson man and the monkey in the custom standing behind him. They must be one of the pure bloodlines and the grapheme lore user secretly motioned in the letter. The intense jasmine scents the lord transmitted smothered her chest. What a pity she liked the smell of the jasmine and its petals.
What was his name again…a Count, no, no this was a nobility title that reflected a certain social status like Esere, Well, she didn’t have much time to prepare for this unexpected divert in events. Now she needed to start familiarizing herself with every bit to be ready for the negotiation.
As she was busy sorting her things, she remembered the other reason for her coming to this farm and proceeded to search in her valise for the notebook after she found it; she proceeded to inspect its pages.
A pounding on her door startled her. She had closed the notebook before she responded, telling whoever was behind the door to enter. When she saw her mother, she panicked and tried to hide the notebook under the pillow.
