Shackled Serenity

by Leon Logos

  “I have to concur with Lyla,” said Dorian. “It’s a miracle you’re alive. That demon Gunther is truly a denizen of Hell. Child abuser!”

  “I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of what kind of training you Carlisles do,” said Sixto, fascinated. “No wonder we never managed to kill you guys.”

  “No, we could’ve easily handled them, it wasn’t like they outmatched us,” Destiny argued. “They just were really elusive.”

  “Well, that’s about enough for tonight,” said Alistair ultimately. “It’s too late in the night but too early for the dawn. Serenity, you need rest.”

  “But I want to know more,” she protested earnestly.

  “You will, starting tomorrow,” Alistair said understandingly. “It won’t take long for you to acclimate to your new life. Destiny, take Serenity to her chamber; the empty guest room on your floor.”

  “Yes, Father,” Destiny nodded obediently, rising from her chair.

  Her siblings followed suit. Serenity imitated the others but faced Alistair for one final question before her departure.

  “Am I being gullible?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Alistair asked, quirking his eyebrows.

  The question was genuine. She felt she was being overly credulous.

  “I’m asking if I’m an idiot for believing you so easily. I can’t help but like I’m being deceived.”

  “If we were lying, you think we’d reveal to you that we were?” said Alistair. “That would be moronic. You will eventually learn what the truth is over time. Any doubts you have on your conscience will ebb away.”

  “Oh, okay…”“Good night, then,” he said, nodding mannerly.

  She returned the farewell and followed Destiny and the others out of the room. The guards opened the doors for them, and they entered the main hall where the grand double staircase was reposed. The living quarters were apparently on the second floor, up the stairs. She followed Destiny, tracing her hands against the smooth gold-trimmed railing. It sparkled in the iridescent light alluringly, not a speck of dust visible. Reaching the second landing of the staircase required effort. She only now realized how exhausted her legs were; it as if she had done a thousand reps of weighted squats the day before. Destiny assessed her once more as they arrived on the second floor, greeted by a comfy loft area. Both the right and left paths led to corridors. Directly in front of them was a massive portrait on the wall, depicting a man in ebony robes, pensively gazing overhead.

  “You really look like crap,” Destiny said grimly. “What you need is a bath, a change of clothes, and a big meal since you look so frail. Were you starved while living with the Carlisles?”

  “W-well, sometimes.”

  “And are those clothes second-hand?”

  “Probably… Are your clothes custom-made?”

  “They were tailored, yeah,” said Destiny, looking down at the emerald knee-length accordion skirt and white dress shirt she was wearing. “I’ll probably get some of the tailors to fix up some clothes for you. You’re going to need it if you want to stay here.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  Destiny led her to her chamber. Serenity surveyed the entire place speechlessly. It was a guestroom, but there was a king-sized bed with white linen sheets, emerald curtains, a silver dressing table, and the luxurious furniture looked too expensive for her to touch. There was even a bathroom with a bathtub, shower, sink, and toilet solely for her personal use. And the closet was the size of her whole room back in Sequim. The walls were lime-green, and the floors were marble like the rest of the palace. A fireplace sat under an ivory mantel, indiscernible illustrations carved onto it.

  “I bet you’ve never seen a room so fancy before,” said Destiny. “This isn’t much, don’t look so shocked.”

  “T-this is my room?”

  “Yep, but there’s nothing really here since the room was unoccupied before. We’ll start converting it into your own personal chamber later. Well, this is where I leave you. I’ll get one of the maids to give you a clean, fresh pair of pajamas and a nightgown. First, take a bath and then put them on. I don’t want you sleeping on that bed with those filthy clothes.”

  She nodded, approaching further into the room. Even the air was pervaded with a sweet fragrance that smelled of honey.

  “And one more thing.”

  “Yes?” she said, turning back to Destiny.

  “I know the others may have accepted you,” Destiny began, her tone shifting, “but I don’t.”

  “Okay?”

  “If I get even an inkling that you’ll betray us, then I’ll kill you myself,” Destiny warned gravely. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she responded, her voice fading as Destiny slammed the door shut as she left.

  Her bemusement faded as quickly as her voice; it was only reasonable for her not to be trusted so easily. They were supposed to be mortal enemies. It didn’t matter who she supposedly was. Gunther raised her, and that must’ve given off the impression that she was still dangerous.

  This opened her eyes further; just as Destiny was dubious and watchful of her, she should feel the same about these Aurelians. But the fact that Destiny felt threatened, even if it was mild, gave Serenity the notion that maybe the Aurelians really weren’t dissimulating.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Surreal. That was the only word to describe the feeling that coursed through her when she awoke at the sounds of a morning bell. She felt unprecedentedly warm and healthy, opening her eyes to a sumptuous, sunlit room. The mattress she slept on was softer than a feather, and more comfortable than any bed she had ever occupied. Her body was respite from headache or pain, and her mind was clear and fresh, reinvigorated by a fantastic night’s sleep. The enervating fear that had troubled her the night before had ebbed away completely, and the knot in her stomach that invariably presented itself whenever she found herself in any dangerous or unwelcoming situation was nonexistent.

  The sheets and blankets that covered her provided beyond satisfactory warmth. The night before, she had taken a bath as instructed; after finishing, she had found a pair of maroon pajamas on top of the bed.

  The golden quartz clock perched above the dressing table informed her that it was half-past ten, still a bit early. The door was closed shut, and it didn’t seem like she’d be disturbed any time soon, but she decided to get out of bed nonetheless.

  The bathroom contained all of the necessary amenities: hair brushes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, toilet paper, towels, even shampoo. She used them to her convenience, brushing her teeth and hair, trying to make herself look more presentable. Compared to last night, she looked like a reborn person, both in mentality and appearance. It was still inconceivable how profoundly her life had changed just over six hours ago. She went from expecting imminent death to actually learning the truth. All the clandestine facts, previously veiled in secrecy, had been thrown at her. And for the first time in her miserable life, she felt liberated. Free from her previous life, and in the onset of living a new one.

  After finishing her regular morning routine, she stepped out of the bathroom and stood by her bed. It had just occurred to her that she had no clothes. She grimaced at the dirty clothes she wore just hours ago, laying in a heap on the floor. An unpleasant odor disturbed the minty fragrance of her chamber. Destiny did mention that there would be arrangements for new clothes to be tailored for her. This was convenient; she had no other clothes. All of her belonging were still in Patrick’s house, probably abandoned by the brothers.

  The thought of her former family touched a nerve, producing a sentimental emptiness. It really was unbelievable registering that they’d never see each other again. These were the people she had lived with since toddlerhood. They had been her only family. But the memories of their cruelty, and the inequities imposed on her, blighted the mildly poignant nostalgia, engendering her to forget about them entirely—for now.

  There was a light rap at the door, followed by a ginger female voice.

&nbs
p; “Madam, are you awake?”

  “Yes, come in!” she replied, unaccustomed to being addressed as “Madam.”

  This was something to get used to from now on. However, it was bizarre being spoken to as if she was a holder of some superior status; her whole life, she had been in league with the impecunious peasants.

  The doors opened, and out came a youthful maid with amber hair tied up in a bun, and wearing the quintessential maid-outfit with the calf-length black dress and white apron. In her arms were a stack of clean, rather grandiose clothes. They varied from something as basic to dress shirts or trousers, to common collar dresses. The clothes were all for casual wear, nothing too formal or lavish. Though, she presumed she’d be acquiring pretty dresses and such in the coming days.

  “Are these all for me?” Serenity asked politely.

  “Of course, ma’am,” the maid replied, setting the stack of clothing by the foot of the bed. “Madam Destiny requested for me to deliver.”

  “Oh, okay,” Serenity said graciously. “Tell her my thanks.”

  “Tell her yourself,” said a voice.

  Serenity averted her eyes from the maid and to the doorway; Sixto, the boy from yesterday (more like six hours ago), was standing there with his arms folded. His light-brown hair, styled in an undercut, gleamed under the spill of light shining from the skylight above in the hall.

  The maid bowed her head dutifully.

  “Master Sixto,” she acknowledged.

  Sixto nodded curtly at the maid and directed his attention solely towards her. He was in full leather armor, analogous to what the Venator was wearing back in the forest, except this armor was brown. The armor appeared reinforced and modern. She couldn’t describe it.

  “Come to the Breakfast Hall so that we can—well, eat breakfast,” said Sixto, piercing her with his assertive but guileless gaze.

  “You have a breakfast hall? What about a din—”

  “Dining Hall, Lunch Hall, Supper Hall, whatever,” said Sixto dismissively. “We have one for each, so you better get used to it.”

  “All right, but I need to change first.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  She remained motionless for a moment, waiting for Sixto to shut the door as the maid exited the room. But the boy simply stood stationary, pretending to be interested in the infinitesimal cracks in the walls.

  “Can—could I have some privacy?” she solicited quizzically.

  “Oh yeah, my fault,” said Sixto suddenly, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “I’ll be waiting outside in the hall, so just take your time.”

  She nodded, and he closed the door.

  She wasted no time in choosing her outfit, putting on a dark blue skirt that reached her knees and a white collared shirt. She appraised herself in the floor mirror that stood next to the dressing table.

  Sixto was waiting for her outside. The hallway was lit up by the bank of skylight windows above in the ceiling, displaying the sapphire clear skies outside. Sixto led the way out of the corridor, and into the loft area by the stairs. As she followed him, she examined his outfit once more. Why he was wearing armor instead of regular clothes intrigued her.

  “Have you been training?” she inquired.

  “The armor gives it away, huh?” Sixto said. “Yep, all Aurelian soldiers have daily training in the morning. Every day.”

  “You guys have to wear leather armor? Why not Kevlar or something?”

  “‘Leather armor’?” Sixto repeated, turning to look at her. He made a face, indicating she must’ve said something very idiotic. “This is carbon fiber. Polymer. Where the hell did you get leather armor? That’s ancient.”

  “W-well, it looks leathery-ish,” she said stupidly.

  “Did Gunther Carlisle not teach you about armor? Did you guys ever wear armor at all?”

  “We wore Kevlar. We had a lot of military-grade equipment, and we could’ve fought the Army, honestly.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Sixto said, amused, in a tone that made it impossible to determine whether it was sarcasm or sincerity.

  They descended the stairs and took the left path in the entrance hall. To get to the “Breakfast Hall,” they passed by parlors, bars, conference rooms, game rooms, the kitchens where all the chefs resided in, an arched opening leading outside to the large courtyard, and an armory. The outside of the estate was even larger than the inside; it looked like the campus of an Ivy-league college. But some of the archaic architecture that was present in some parts of the estate made the whole place resemble castle grounds.

  Other than in one’s own personal chamber, there was no such thing as privacy in the Aurelian residence. Every few seconds, a servant, employee, or maid would pass by busily. Each one acknowledged Sixto’s presence, as if they were obligated to do so, fearful their heads may be taken if they were remiss to ignore him. The Aurelian Family—at least the inner circle of the Family—seemed like royalty.

  “Does everyone get treated like a prince here?” she remarked. “Only the men,” Sixto riposted. “The prominent men.”

  Serenity ignored the rejoinder, getting the point. If she was to be treated like royalty, it wouldn’t gladden her. Honestly, she would prefer being ignored or belittled just for old time’s sake. To be treated as an inferior individual would be like reuniting with an old friend. Sixto somehow read her thoughts with a single glance.

  “You must be used to being a slave back with the Carlisles.”

  “Calling it ‘slavery’ is exaggerating, but you’re not that far off.”

  “Whatever. All I’m saying is that you’re probably feeling weird now that you’re going to be treated properly, with respect. Get used to it ‘cuz I know for sure that it beats getting kicked around like a sack of dirt.”

  There were no objections to this statement. The Breakfast Hall was a high-ceilinged domed room with stained glass windows and a long dining table in the center. She estimated fifty chairs, most of them occupied with aristocratic-looking people enjoying their breakfast entrees. The table was already covered with food, with servants intermittently taking dishes, and then adding them. Serenity took a seat next to Sixto. With them were the three girls: Destiny, Lily, and Lyla. Lyla and Lily were in regular (but fancy) blouses, but Destiny wore the same armor as Sixto. She, too, must’ve been a soldier.

  “I saved this for you,” Lily grinned, sliding her a golden plate of food. There were omelets, sausages, hash browns, potatoes, bacon, and bread.

  “Oh, thanks,” Serenity said gratefully, getting started without delay. She was ravenous, having not eaten since forever. One bite of a sausage constrained her to take another. She then wolfed down the bacon and bread right after. The orange juice tasted fresh and authentic; it was as if the oranges were just picked from the garden. A variety of different entrees sat deliciously in rows along the table. This wasn’t just a breakfast—it was a buffet. Lyla was watching Serenity disgustedly as she consumed her meal quickly, with large bites.

  “Were you not taught proper table etiquette?” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

  Lyla’s plate consisted of an apple, a piece of bread, and broccoli. Broccoli. A huge chunk of it too. Serenity dropped the hash brown she was holding.

  “S-sorry,” she said apologetically, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

  She knew basic table manners and felt that she was following them. Her mouth wasn’t exposed, she wasn’t talking while eating or masticating, and she wasn’t shoveling the food into her mouth with her hands. Though she was eating like a starved animal, and that must’ve disturbed Lyla.

  “She’s really hungry, be considerate,” said Destiny. “It’s not like she’s behaving like a savage; look, she knows how to use silverware.”

  “Lyla, what exactly are you eating? That’s just wrong,” Sixto remarked.

  “I’m on a diet, shut up,” Lyla snapped.

  “For what? You’re skinny!” Lily pointed out.

  “Have you seen the layers of fat on my cheeks?” Lyla sa
id, offended.

  “You vegans are never satisfied,” Sixto laughed.

  Serenity side-eyed Lyla while she finished her meal. The girl initially did not appear to her as fastidious or self-conscious. Her morose, apathetic demeanor and countenance held the impression that she didn’t care much about anything. But appearances could be deceiving.

  After she was finished, Serenity began questioning again.

  “Who are these other people?” she asked first.

  “Other members of the family,” said Destiny matter-of-factly. “The high-status ones. You know, people in the Council, or the inner circle.”

  “I don’t see Uncle Ali,” Sixto said observantly.

  “Father’s in the conference room, he ate much earlier,” Lyla answered.

  “What exactly determines who’s in the Council? Like, what dictates your social status? Money? I don’t know, beauty?”

  “We’re not in the Victorian era, Serenity,” Destiny smirked. “Everyone in the Council is either family by blood or a long-time respected member. In case you’re wondering, the Council is composed of thirteen members. And the inner circle is larger with probably a hundred, give or take.”

  “Does that make me a part of the inner circle, then?”

  “Of course!” Lily squeaked. “You’re family now!”

  Serenity smiled against her will.

  “How old are you, Lily?” Serenity asked curiously.

  “Ten, remember?”

  “That’s right,” said Serenity, recalling that Lily mentioned her age during the first introduction earlier.

  “How old are you?” Sixto asked, in alacrity.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Woah, so am I!” Sixto exclaimed in wonder.

  “Fantastic, now you two can get married,” Lyla joked.

  “Yeah, and you’d be her bridesmaid,” Sixto replied, pretending to take the joke coolly but failing to conceal his flushed cheeks.

  “I’m fifteen, by the way,” Lyla added, now that they were on the topic of ages. She was just as young as Serenity would’ve guessed her to be.