by Darci Darson
Kitty nodded and pointed to a plate with untouched food. The old lady had not eaten anything for her breakfast.
Alyssa shook her head, holding her lips tightly. She had a strong urge to make Horatia feel better. Reaching for the plate with her left hand, Alyssa stroked Kitty’s head with a friendly and caring gesture of her other hand and moved towards the old lady’s bedroom, cursing Philip in her mind. He seemed to her lazy and lacking compassion for his own mother.
Alyssa entered the dark bedroom with only two candles burning and moved towards where Horatia lay on the massive four poster bed in grey and purple, her shoes clicking on the wooden floor. The old lady’s cough tore at the silence, almost causing the air to resonate. Alyssa sat on the edge of the bed and Horatia flashed her a tired smile.
“This dark butterfly with hyacinth wings has visited me again,” Horatia said. “For a moment, I thought that it would be you, but it ain’t you. I shall not find my butterfly.”
Alyssa took a closer look and she noticed the old lady’s glassy eyes and a pink, distinctive flushing of her cheeks. She knew that it would be Felicia to find Cherry and Horatia would die not learning the truth or Alyssa’s real identity.
“You are very sick,” Alyssa said at last. She then placed the plate on the brown dresser and returned to her previous position, placing her right hand on Horatia’s chest. Her senses recognised a serious disease damaging her kind host’s lungs. To Alyssa it felt like the tissues of Horatia’s organs were eaten by an invisible threat. Closing her eyes, she sent a wave of her healing warmth to ease the pain and cough for a while as she was not able to cure Horatia.
“You have to eat something,” Alyssa said firmly.
Horatia sat on the bed with the girl’s support and swallowed a tiny portion of the meal.
“What is a ball?” Alyssa asked to satisfy her curiosity and just to entertain her unwell host with a polite conversation.
“We should organise a ball before my death indeed,” Horatia said with her weak and hoarse voice and closed her eyes. “Such a young and handsome girl like you should dance and smile,” she whispered like even producing one sentence was too much for her. “You shall dance on our ball, Alyssa.”
“Sleep now,” Alyssa said and covered the old lady with an additional blanket. She knew now what balls were about. She sometimes sang with the elves but Yasmeen had never allowed her to dance with them. She had watched the fires and swaying figures from the window in her bedroom on a number of occasions, each time with the same fury surging through her veins. Surprisingly, even Ettrian’s opinion about attending those gatherings was very consistent with Yasmeen’s one which was strange as he was an elf.
She then stood up and left the bedroom with the intention to learn everything about the house and its daily routine. In a certain point of time, she would explore the area around the house but at the moment she wanted to focus on relieving Kitty’s and Jenny’s hardship. She wanted to be helpful, occupied with a lot of work, engaged despite the neutral part of her personality. She did not want these timid black thoughts to enter her mind, these flashes of that poor man’s dead eyes to disturb her excitement. Her other doubts and memories were buried and silenced and she wished to keep them like this forever.
Alyssa spent the rest of the day on cooking, with Kitty’s timid directions, dusting and looking through the books in the small library. Yasmeen had taught her to write and read in English with a great determination and they spoke this language in their home but Horatia’s books seemed to be difficult to read for Alyssa.
She did not see Philip, either and tried to convince herself to not pay too much attention to him, but in the evening as she dived into her duvet, she could focus only on him. It was as if his warm eyes had burned an image in her memory and when she recalled his kind and honest smile, something warm bubbled at the bottom of her heart. She decided to talk to him about Horatia’s condition as soon as possible. It was her goal now to make things better in Westfad Manor. Teaching Philip more respect to his mother was the priority. Maybe as a human he was not aware how important this was.
In the next morning, Kitty woke her up, serving her a delicious breakfast. The tray landed on Alyssa’s lap as the young servant leant over her with a springy grace.
“Kitty, I told you that I would do it myself,” she said with a friendly warmth and lifted her head from the pillow. There was a morning laziness in her muscles and this sensation of slight disconnection from reality. She yawned and stretched her arms, rubbing her eyes as she reached out for a cup of steaming black tea.
“Miss, the old lady is better and she wants to see you,” Kitty said with a timid excitement. “I dare say she likes you.”
Alyssa jumped into the layers of funny underwear and let Kitty assist her in putting on a pale green dress. She then darted towards Horatia’s bedroom and ran inside like a lightning bolt.
“Your manners are terrible indeed, Alyssa,” the old lady said when their glances met. “You are such a handsome young lady and I shall teach you a proper behaviour,” Horatia added and chuckled. “Some say that I am a witch but do not fear. I am wise and I know more than others.”
“You look better,” Alyssa said and felt a shot of excitement surging through her body.
“Where is Kitty?” Horatia asked. “The invitations must be sent out two weeks in advance. We shall hire musicians and two more servants. Where is this girl? Kitty!”
The old lady talked a lot about the preparations required for the ball and Alyssa grasped something about the candles needing to be calibrated to burn for four hours and from the whole planned menu she memorised the white soup and the water ices. Thankfully, Kitty stayed at the doorway, mute and scared, nodding and seeming to understand the flood of Horatia’s words. Later on, Alyssa helped Horatia to write the invitations or just stared at the old lady shaking her head, muttering and moaning whilst poor Kitty delivered her meals to the bedroom.
In the evening, Alyssa was so overloaded with new experiences that she walked out to the back garden which had a construction designed to mimic ruins of something that she was not able to name and a small bridge among the sweeping lawn set against the groves of trees. The scent of soil and plants blended with a cold silence interrupted by echoes of Kitty and Jenny’s voices coming from the house. There was still plenty of the evening tranquillising light giving a sense of slowing down, being enveloped within a shimmering aura, dreaming.
As she sank into the peaceful place, she noticed Philip, sitting and leaning against a tree-trunk inhabited by a few spots of dark green moss.
“We will have a ball,” she said to Philip as he stood up and approached her with a springy elegance.
She blushed when he held her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back. When her gaze met his, she noticed the unique warmth of his eyes as if brushing the very particles of her soul as his hand still gripped hers. It was very cold though and she did not understand why he had sat outside, wearing only a white shirt and skin-tight black trousers.
She liberated her hand and wrapped the shawl around her arms and chest as the evening was indeed very chilly. Her breath turned into vapour and she shivered. The noises from the house ceased to exist as the air carried the distinct odours of lilies and soil.
“Your mother is very sick,” Alyssa said a little angry with him.
“She is dying,” Philip said. “This is due to a hectic fever.”
Alyssa thought that his voice was as warm as his eyes yet tinged with some sadness and despair. Maybe he was, in fact, concerned about his mother’s deteriorating health.
“You should be with her now,” Alyssa reprimanded him. “Children should respect their parents and help them.”
“I am with her,” Philip said as if offended. “I visit her whenever I can.”
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa said. “I didn’t want to be rude and interfere with your family, but Horatia is so unwell and I thought... “
Philip took a step closer and raised his han
d to stroke over her hair. It was so surprising that she stood still for a moment, not sure how to behave. It was only her and him, all of a sudden separated from the whole world. His touch was caring and full of genuine interest as if he tasted every wisp and enjoyed the feel of her hair. His eyes gleamed with bright blue. In this brief time period, she just wanted the clocks to stop, to make this instant last forever, to immerse herself into Philip’s yearning gaze. His amazement and admiration for her seemed to be so honest and tempting for her. The hope lighting up his expression made her heart flutter.
His fingers smoothed the skin on her temple and cheek in a long, delicate touch. It was as if he were memorising every detail of her face. There was a delicate beauty between them and this eerie sensation like she had always known him, like she was familiar with him. It must have been because of Felicia. He was her ancestor in fact.
“You are scared of me,” Philip whispered in a funny tone, his sense of humour brightening the core of her soul.
“No, I’m not,” she whispered in the same tone. It was as though Philip had unravelled something in her that she had not suspected to have. He had discovered a subtle and vulnerable part of Alyssa. She had always been a tough girl raised among the elves, taught to shoot with her bow and to kill when necessary. A sharp and dark emotion replaced her timid joy. She felt very neutral and impure at that moment.
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa said and turned back, running back to the house. A stubborn thought crossed her mind that Philip was nice and good and she had blood on her hands. She left him despite the fact that everything inside her screamed and desired to stay with him.
“Alyssa, wait,” his voice followed her as she pulled the door handle.
She stopped and felt his hand on her shoulder. Turning back, she was drawn into his curious, warm eyes.
“When I first saw you, Alyssa, you were like the light in the darkness. Why are you scared of me?”
“I’m not,” she said. “It’s very cold.”
“Walk with me,” he asked. “I’m not scary,” he added with humour.
She shook her head in confusion.
“We should go back inside,” she said. “It’s really cold outside.” She gazed at him and her eyes fixed onto his temple. The wound seemed to reopen and bled again. She stepped forward to take a closer look and to her surprise, the rim was precise and smooth. Not what she would have expected after falling off the horse, but she was no expert in wounds. She grabbed Philip’s hand and pulled him inside, into the kitchen. Jenny sat at the table with her back towards them, peeling the veggies for the evening meal and in her deafness, paying no attention to them. Philip’s hand was strangely light at first but a moment later, his fingers entangled with hers. She looked around to localise at least a piece of cloth to press against Philip’s temple, but there was nothing suitable in the kitchen so she raised her hand and used her Varuh healing power. The energy flowed as though through the temple and Alyssa wondered whether her skills had recovered properly after her own injury. Bleeding subsided a moment later and Philip put his hand on hers healing his wound.
“Now we can go for a walk,” he said and smiled to her.
Alyssa nodded and said, ”I will bring you a jacket. Wait for me in the garden.” She sprinted towards the door opening into the hallway, not expecting his answer, so occupied with her sudden urge to look after him. He was so hopeless in thinking about himself and she did not want him to catch a cold or something worse. Passing Kitty on the stairs, she asked, ”Where are Philip’s jackets?”
Kitty came to an abrupt stop and murmured with confusion, “In the room with yellow walls there is a chest. Why do you need his jacket, miss?”
Alyssa did not answer as she darted with her racing heart to collect the garment as soon as possible so that she could join Philip in the garden. She had never walked with a boy before and the idea excited her. She had wandered in the woods with Yasmeen and a few times with Aymar but her whole soul stirred with the prospect that this walk with Philip would be something different.
The warmth of his glance was tempting and the kindness of his voice made her want to spend as much time as possible with him. She had these annoying butterflies in her stomach. She also wanted to pick up some clothes to wipe his face and wash her hand. Reaching the end of the stairs she rammed into Horatia who closed her in her warm arms.
“Alyssa, your manners are horrible,” the old lady reprimanded her and started coughing. The attack made her falter and almost caused Alyssa to fall backwards. The old lady choked in her arms and she felt a thick fluid dripping onto her neck and chest.
“I will take you back to your bedroom,” Alyssa offered, tensing her arm muscles as the lady managed to straighten up a bit, using her shoulders for support. The girl wiped her blood stained hands against the fabric of her dress. Horatia must have had a bleeding from her lungs. The old woman nodded and they walked together, with Alyssa’s hands supporting Horatia’s back.
Washing her hands in a bowl of cold water, Alyssa helped Horatia to undress and put her to bed like a small child. She directed all her healing strength towards Horatia’s damaged lungs. After two hours, she fell asleep of exhaustion in the armchair next to the old lady’s bed.
Chapter 6
The two weeks before the ball were full of dusting, cleaning, cooking and Horatia’s moans of pain. Alyssa went once on a shopping trip with Kitty to the village but the shops suffocated her with their small spaces and dark interiors; not to mention that the people stared at her scar, whispering about the crazy witch, Horatia Reese. On that day, Alyssa started to have doubts about the ball and being among so many invited people. After the full day of shopping, she also realised how different Horatia was to the rest of the community. Kitty somehow had accepted the peculiarity of Westfad Manor. The young servant seemed devoted to her employer and made no comments about her.
On Sunday, Horatia, Kitty and Alyssa went to church, again surrounded by whispers, gossiping and suspicious glances. The priest greeted them with a repulsion and coldness in his eyes. Alyssa promised herself that she would not attend any more of the church gatherings. Yasmeen had tried to explain to her the idea of God on a number of occasions, but Alyssa rather chose to believe in the balance and the forces of nature like the elves. Rav always avoided the discussions about faith and Alyssa knew that it was caused by his decision to partially abandon the Varuh way of life.
After the service, Horatia went back to bed as she was so sick that Alyssa spent the whole afternoon, trying to strengthen her with her healing power.
She did not see Philip, not even once. Horatia had mentioned something once that her son spent a lot of time in the town, playing cards and enjoying the social life there, but talking with the old lady was more and more difficult as time passed and her condition worsened. Alyssa was occupied with helping Horatia and Kitty, acutely aware that the two oldest ladies in the House might depart to the afterlife very soon. She was angry with Philip that he did not say goodbye to her and in her offended pride she did not talk about him to anybody, ashamed that she was of such small importance to him. She was bitter and exhausted with exuding her Varuh warmth to Horatia, aware that it would not make a significant difference. She wanted to buy as much time as possible, though.
On the evening of the ball, Alyssa stood in front of the mirror as Kitty smoothed the wrinkles of her high-waisted cream dress. Coupled with a satin bodice, it gave an eye-catching view of her cleavage, nicely showing her full breasts. She was slim but definitely more curvy in the right places more than Yasmeen and certainly would have looked like a real woman in comparison to her famous and petite granny Cherry. The elves regarded Alyssa as a very attractive girl and the thin mark on her face made her more unique and appealing for them. The same was true for Yasmeen who got constant propositions of a relationship in case she decided to separate with Rav. The elves gossiped that there was something special about them both, her mother and her, pulling men towards them. Humans did not discern thei
r aura but gifted them with their amazed glances as well.
The length of the dress was slightly above her ankles as Alyssa was probably taller than Horatia’s daughter. Kitty and she had spent a lot of time making the adjustments to all of the dresses.
She could now hear the music and voices from downstairs.
“I don’t want to go,” Alyssa said. “I am surprised that they came. They don’t like Horatia and they think that she is crazy.”
“Miss, it is not proper to say so,” Kitty said.
“But it’s true,” Alyssa protested. “And I don’t understand why you are not invited, Kitty.”
“I am a servant, miss,” Kitty explained.
Alyssa drew her closer and embraced her, trying to give as much warmth in her hug as possible. With every day spent in this location, she felt more and more disappointed with the customs and rules. The elves’ kingdom was full of fun, freedom and independence. It was also full of respect for the family as well as every member of the elven community. The children were nurtured and loved, treated like a gift, a reason for joy. In this unique community, there was no place for crime, violence or any kind of abuse.
“Miss, you are so warm,” Kitty said, clearly happy with the attention. “My father beat me and kicked me.”
Alyssa just hugged her again. She could not believe that a father could hurt his own child. Everything inside her as though twisted to protest against this cruel reality. She felt a warm wave of compassion surging through her chest and directed it towards Kitty who smiled and sighed with relief.
“Miss, your hair...“ Kitty started timidly.
“No way,” Alyssa said firmly, primping her hair that fell loosely like a cape, reaching down to her waist.
“I shall help in the kitchen,” Kitty said, giving up.
“There are three girls from the village hired to manage the ball. Don’t worry, Kitty,” Alyssa soothed. “I tried to convince Horatia to abandon this whole idea about the ball but she is so stubborn and doesn’t want to count the money properly,” she muttered. “She is very excited about the ball too. I don’t know why.” In fact, she suspected that Horatia wanted to say her goodbye to her not so dear friends like it would be a farewell party.
