by Leon Logos
After lunch, she found herself back with Sixto. The plan was initially to return to her chamber and take a shower, but Sixto was insistent on taking her around the estate further. His training for the day was over, so he sought to capitalize on his free time.
All they did was meander around the estate, until they arrived at the recreational area. Sixto was enticed by the empty basketball courts and proceeded to shoot around while she watched.
“You have any interest in basketball?” he asked, sinking a three-pointer.
“I don’t have any interest in sports in general,” she said dully.
“That sucks,” said Sixto. “But you Americans love basketball, though? If I were ever to go to America I’d first see an NBA game, preferably a Laker game. They’re the best team in the world. Got a favorite team?”
“No.”
“Ever watch an NBA game?”
“No?”
“Do you even know any NBA teams?”
“Nope. I know the Patriots.”
“Isn’t that an American football team?!”
“Probably,” Serenity shrugged.
“Wow, you’re such a girl,” Sixto sighed, “just like Lyla.”
“Hey, there’s plenty of girls that love sports,” Serenity countered. “I’m just not one of them. I don’t need sports, I was too busy being tortured.”
Sixto looked at her with a mixture of solemnity and uneasiness, visibly uncomfortable. Serenity immediately rectified the misunderstanding.
“I mean training. The almost-daily training was ‘torture.’”
“Oh, right. Where was I?”
“NBA?”
“Yeah! The regular season just started, and it looks like the Clippers might be dethroned! The West is stacked enough as it is, but the Lakers are climbing up to the number one seed. Bron and Davis are the dynamic duo. We’ve got Davis dominating the paint, and Bron leading—”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Serenity said patiently.
“That’s right, sorry,” Sixto said briskly.
Serenity changed the subject, recounting the events during lunch. Bastion’s interrogation still troubled her a bit, but Sixto reassured her that there was nothing to worry about. Bastion was “just being himself.”
“He’s loyal and cautious,” Sixto elucidated. “I know you hate to be reminded, but you were bred into a Carlisle household. Naturally, he’s going to be watchful of you and ask a few simple questions. He needed to ascertain if you were still an enemy, which I know you aren’t.”
“I know you guys aren’t the enemy, either, despite what Gunther drilled into me. I used to think you guys were villains, but there was no hatred.”
“And even if you were an enemy, I don’t think you’d be capable enough to be a double agent,” said Sixto blatantly. “Or execute an attack from the inside. You’re too easy to kill, too easy to thwart.”
“Thanks…?”“You’re welcome,” Sixto said, attempting another shot. “And speaking of Carlisles, you were two when Gunther took you?”
“Apparently.”
“What about his sons? Are they his biological children or—?”
“No, they were kidnapped, too. I’m just not sure at what ages. Probably young, just like me.”
“What I don’t get is why Gunther allowed you to be aware that he wasn’t your real father. I mean, wouldn’t it be smarter for him to keep it hidden that he took you from your real parents?”
“I don’t know, but it had no effect—on the others, I mean. They all consider him their father as if he actually is. I did, too, pretty much. None of us would dare disobey him.”
“What would happen if you did?”
“Sorry, but can we stop talking about Gunther? And my fam—my other family in general?” Serenity beseeched.
“My bad,” Sixto apologized. “Okay, but how about Christmas?”
They engaged in further conversation for about an hour, remaining in the basketball courts the entire time. The topics ranged from as outlandish as Gilded Age American history to as pertinent as Aurelian residence regulations and laws. Apart from the curfew, she learned that thievery was punishable by death, the jailhouse locked enemies of the family, and that the perimeter was guarded 24/7. The discussion was terminated by Destiny, who showed up to retrieve Sixto.
“I hate siege drills,” Sixto groaned, disgruntled. “They come at random and they’re useless. No maniac would even attempt to attack us!”
“Quit your whining! We always have to be prepared!” Destiny said. “Like I said during lunch: contingencies!”
“It’s not a contingency if we’re sure it’ll never happen,” Sixto muttered acidly. He waved at her curtly, and then plodded after Destiny.
It was unsettling being in a dress so expensive and sumptuous. At the packed dinner table, she attracted the attention of several people, including Sixto, who gaped at her wordlessly for three whole seconds. Serenity had the same reaction when she had looked at herself in the mirror. A pearl necklace sparkled around her neck, and her hair was ironed and sleek with a red ribbon on top. (A maid had entered her chamber, proffering to help her get ready.) Adapting to this new decadent lifestyle seemed far-fetched. It was surreal.
The delicacies on the table required no lengthy description. Just more entrees and appetizers that looked too opulent to eat or touch. She couldn’t identify half the foods. There were about fifty to sixty people at the long rectangular table, talking among themselves with multiple conversations engaging at once. This was no family dinner—it was a just like a dinner at some fancy restaurant. Serenity sat with Alistair and the siblings, Dorian chatting heartily with Alistair. Bastion was seated next to Destiny again, the two of them speaking intimately.
“Does Alistair approve of their relationship?” Serenity asked Sixto, who was seated directly opposite her.
“He’s never brought it up, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” he replied. “Bastion and Uncle Ali are really close. Everybody loves Bastion.”
Before, Serenity had made a comparison between Destiny and Desmos. But this was comparison was false. She now realized who Bastion greatly resembled. Why there was an unreasonable, yet potent dislike towards him. Desmos and Bastion could’ve been brothers. Their overbearing authority, and their supercilious attitudes, they were analogous in these respects.
“Lily told me she was watching movies with you today,” said Lyla smugly. “Prepare yourself for a horde of chick-flicks and kiddy cartoons.”
“You should join us,” Lily insisted. “Three is better than two!”
“No, thanks. Maybe Sixto would love to join you.”
“Sure, I would,” Sixto grunted. “If you put on NBA highlights.”
“Ew, sports are boring!” Lily teased.
Sixto didn’t bother coming up with a retort. He met her eyes and mouthed “girls” distastefully, shaking his head.
After the entrees came the desserts. Cakes, pies, puddings, baklavas, ice cream, brownies, and an abundance of additional comestibles that were foreign to her. It took her five whole minutes to decide which slice of cake to take; she narrowed her options to chocolate cake, cheesecake, carrot cake, chiffon cake, butter cake, and red velvet cake. Ultimately, she opted for cheesecake. Everyone helped themselves to the desserts, even the elders. But every few minutes, as she glanced down the table, a whole new set of sweets would arrive by the kitchen staff. Were they expected to finish all of it?
“Finished already?” Sixto asked, bewildered.
“I don’t like dessert too much, one slice of cake is enough,” she said.
Eating dessert was something she wasn’t accustomed to.
“Damn, you really were underprivileged,” Sixto hissed. “But not here. Eat all you want, whenever you want, all you want. Except during curfew.”
“Are dinners like this every night? Every night?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing too extraordinary,” he said casually.
“Yeah, for sure,” she said
sardonically, but also in arrant awe.
After dinner, her stomach was full, and the satisfaction of a prolific meal-induced natural drowsiness. Of course, she didn’t get her sleep—not until she finished ‘Frozen’ with Lily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Two weeks had passed. She needed to be reminded that she had been an Aurelian resident for two weeks now. It was a Tuesday morning, around noon; she was in the garden with Lyla and Lily, having some sort of a picnic for brunch. Lyla was completely disconnected from their conversation, immersed in the novel she was reading: ‘Jane Eyre.’
There was still much more to learn about living in the Aurelian estate and being a member of the family, but she felt assimilated enough already. It wasn’t a strict lifestyle; on the contrary, she had more freedom than ever before. With the help of the others, she was becoming an “exemplary” member of the family. Almost everyone had accepted her. The only two people she still felt distant with was Lyla and Bastion. She tried to spend as much time as she could with Lyla, but the apathetic girl subtly gave her glowers here and there. As for Bastion, she only saw him during dinners. Furthermore, he seldom acknowledged her presence.
Sixto maintained his usual gregarious self, expending all his possible free time to facilitate her in the assimilation process. The night before, he had attempted to exhort her into sneaking out of her chamber at 1:00 AM to break into the kitchens and steal food with him. She adamantly rejected the offer, intent on preempting any rule-breaking. Sixto had accepted her refusal at the time, but she knew he was liable to try again sometime in the future. Her reply would be invariable. It was much too early to be flouting rules.
Meanwhile, she became more familiar with Alistair’s role in the family. He held a distinguished and reputable role in the Council and was involved in all the major decision making. If the Aurelian Family were a corporation, Alistair would be the CEO. His sovereignty wasn’t officially acknowledged since all the members of the Council were supposedly in equal standing. Nonetheless, everybody knew Alistair was virtually the man in charge. Dorian’s exact connection to the family was still unclear to her, but she did discover more of his idiosyncratic tendencies. Apart from tasting several types of wine before settling on one, Dorian was frequently compelled to clean anything he found even remotely dirty with his handkerchief before touching it. This included the edges of furniture with even a single speck of dust. Lily’s fanciful supposition was that Dorian was secretly one of the housemaids. Lyla indifferently debunked the theory and simply labeled Dorian as a “germaphobe,” a theory that sounded much more logical.
“It’s common with people like Dorian,” Lyla said when the topic was brought up during the picnic. “People born and raised in luxury have OCD about cleanliness. I have it, but not as extreme as Dorian. He’s on a whole other level.”
“Every inch of the house is clean, I don’t see why it’s necessary,” said Serenity. “Unless he comes from a place even more fancy than this?”
“Maybe, but Dorian has been with us since, like, we were born,” Lily shrugged. “We don’t know where he comes from. He’s a part of the family.”
“Oh. And where does Bastion come from?”
Lyla buried her face in her book; her nose scraping the pages.
“He’s been here a long time, too,” Lily answered. “Lyla loves Bastion! Right, Lyla? Lyla? Look, she’s shy! Hahaha!”
Lyla did not respond, pretending to be engrossed in ‘Jane Eyre.’
“Destiny loves Bastion, doesn’t she?” Serenity asked, granting Lyla respite from the spotlight. “They’re together, right?”
“Yeah! They are! I can’t wait for the wedding!”
“Slow down, it’s way too soon,” Lyla mumbled.
“Oooh, somebody’s jealous,” Lily teased childishly.
“Shut up, you brat!”
Serenity tittered, munching on pretzels. This must’ve been what was called “sibling rivalry.” Lyla and Lily tended to argue a lot, which was natural as siblings. The Carlisle brothers feuded constantly, but their arguments frequently escalated to brawls. It wasn’t the conventional “sibling rivalry.”
“We should have a picnic tomorrow, too,” Lily suggested, lying down on the blanket and relishing the moment.
“It’s going to rain tomorrow, I checked the forecast,” Lyla replied.
“You watch TV?” Serenity asked, surprised.
“What? No. Who watches TV these days? The Internet exists for a reason,” Lyla snorted, marking her page and shutting her book.
“That’s all I did as a kid,” Serenity reminisced. “Well, when we were on the road, staying in motels and stuff. There wasn’t anything else to do.”
“‘Motels’?” Lyla repeated in a withering tone. “That’s horrible!”
“Compared to your standards, it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lyla said crossly.
“I wasn’t trying to be offensive,” Serenity said placidly.
“Yeah, sure,” Lyla replied brusquely, standing up. “I’m off.”
“Wait, stay longer!” Lily protested.
“Byeee!” Lyla waved, walking away without looking back once.
Serenity watched her go morosely. It was still a mystery why Lyla appreciably detested her. She never had the courage to ask her directly. The others didn’t find it to be a big deal, even when she confided in them. Lily had attributed this alleged dislike to her relationship with Gunther. This was undoubtedly the most plausible reasoning. But why Lyla only? Sixto, Lily, Alistair, Dorian, and even members of the Council seemed to accept her. They had no issues or reservations. She was virtually a member.
“Sixto should be finished with his training in ten minutes,” Lily said. “We can ask him to come to the barn with us. Is that cool?”
“Sure. I have no complaints. What’s at the barn?”
“Animals! I want to see horses, especially!”
Sixto had zero objections to accompanying them. After an unnaturally quick bath, he was out of his chamber, ready to go. The barn was situated on the eastern side of the estate, by the perimeter of the property. The journey there entailed a twenty-minute walk, strolling past the servant dormitories, the art gallery, and beyond the east gates. The barn sat in the center of a small farmland area. Upon first glance, she saw chickens, goats, cows, and pigs lethargically loitering in fenced areas. There was a pungent trace of manure filling their nostrils.
“Yeah, its filthier in here than everyone else on the property,” Sixto nodded. “What do you expect? We keep animals here for slaughter. I can bet you, my soul, that Dorian has never set foot here.”
Lily rushed to the stables where the horses were being kept. They had to jog to keep up with her. To her understanding, it had been quite a while since Lily had been here. The little girl had developed some sort of affinity with the horses, particularly Riley, a white mare. But Riley wasn’t present when they reached the stables, which reeked of actual manure. The defecation was mixed in with the patches of hay scattered around the ground.
“No!” Lily squealed. “Where is she?!”
“Dead,” Sixto mouthed, unperturbed.
Lily remained in a state of misery for at least ten minutes before she calmed down enough to converse.
“At least Timothy is still alive,” Lily sniffled sanguinely, stroking the mane of a great white stallion.
Its eyes registered blank disinterest, staring straight through Lily as if she was some transparent figure.
“You’re really fond of animals, that’s nice,” Serenity said tactfully.
“Why wouldn’t I be? They’re the same as us humans.”
Sixto scoffed, leaning back against the wall next to the door. His opinion on animals must’ve differed from Lily’s, and it was evident that he didn’t want to be here. So why was he?
“Serenity, you want to come with me to the training field?” he asked.
“No,” she said bluntly. “I’ve had enough of training.”
“I can’t do anything, there’s no point,” Serenity exhaled.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Sixto smiled obdurately. “Come on.”
Serenity turned back to Lily. She would be the deciding factor on her choice. This day was supposed to be dedicated to the two of them anyway.
“I suppose we can go,” Lily said decisively. “I’ll just watch.”
“Great,” Sixto nodded approvingly. “We’ll head to lunch right after.”
They left the horse stables and the outbuilding promptly, taking care not to tread on cow droppings or mud.
As they receded farther from the farm, they passed the jailhouse. The building was constructed with limestone, and it wasn’t as guarded as she expected. There were only two guards in the entrance and three patrolling the perimeter. If she was to estimate, the building could hold maybe about fifty prisoners at most. It wasn’t so massive. She inquired Sixto.
“How many prisoners are in there?”
“Not many,” replied Sixto. “Maybe about ten?”
“Ten what? How do you end up in there?”
“Trespassers, enemies, offenders, traitors, you name it. But we get so few of those these days. Which is why you can see that the jailhouse isn’t that guarded. Nobody can escape that building, and nobody can infiltrate this property anyway. Though, I know of a pretty cool secret passageway to the jailhouse. If I were a burglar, it would come in handy.”
“How long do they stay there?” Serenity asked curiously, imagining starved, feeble inmates, shriveling and degrading away in the corner of their cells.
The prospect of being imprisoned here suddenly became more repugnant. Could breaking curfew be enough to land someone here?"
“As long as their sentence stipulates. We don’t sentence people to life; if their offense is severe enough, we just execute them.”
“Execute? Like, kill?”
