Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
G randmother pulled me into her room. Shutting the door behind her. She called for tea from the maids before setting me on the dressing stool. The softness in her eyes was unmistakable. The grief still lingering there after all these years.
“I knew you would go in there sooner or later.” She said softly. I avoided her gaze, looking at my hands twisted in my lap. The image of Magdelena’s burnt ones twisting my stomach. “I just wish you had asked me to join you.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” I admitted. It was true in the sense that neither of us wanted to do it alone and had even said that when the time came, we would go in together. But I wasn't going to tell her why I went in alone. Not yet anyway.
“You never bother me.” She playfully scolded. Her attempt at cheering me up did not go unnoticed. I couldn't bring myself to smile. I still felt the weight of trying to piece together the story of Magdelena I was told, versus what I just witnessed. Instead wiping away the mess on my face with my sleeve.
She frowned slightly before pulling a chair before me.
“When you are ready, we can clean it out. Together. Make use of the room for a happier purpose.”
“And what purpose would that be?” My voice came out small. The words aching with every syllable from my torn throat.
“Arthur is going to offer your hand to Victor.”
“No.” I stiffened. Meeting her gaze. My face hardened, this can’t be happening.
“No?”
I shook my head.
The old woman smiled before bursting into laughter.
“Oh how I wish you could see your face.”
My cheeks heated. After all I had experienced today, this was the final straw. My anger rose to the surface.
“I am kidding, Vespera. Anyone with sense can see you do not see him in that way. I mean, you are yet to come to me with boasts of coloured sight aren't you?” Her wrinkled hands reached for mine in my lap. I let her take it. My anger faded with her gentle touch.
I swallowed hard.
“When you are ready, your colour will come. But for now, live your life. You have been given a second chance. Do what you must, but know that life is precious and fleeting. You as a Florian should know that. Don't get to my age and have your greatest achievement be your granddaughter before you. See the world. Eat cake in Paris, drink coffee in Rome. Steal bread and become a convict on that new land for all I care. Just make me proud.”
I nodded sadly. Knowing I would never do any of those things. The end of my life was coming. I could feel it. I was waiting for it. The attacker would come back now Dorian was here. Or at least I hoped. If they could finally get rid of my existence, maybe they wouldn't hurt others. Maybe that would be enough for them. The Florian name would die with the woman who upheld it most. The greatest Florian there was.
I digested her words. Holding them close to my heart. She was always one to make light of any situation. Often serious toward others but a joker at heart. A woman I had long wished to resemble. But oftentimes I was told I was just like my father or my wild aunt. I shuddered at her memory. I could never look at fire the same.
Mary brought in the tray of tea, lingering by the door before offering a worried smile. I tried my best to convey that all was well but my smile fell flat. Grandmother noted the exchange but said nothing. Blowing air across the rim of her tea cup. Roses swirling through the elegant vining pattern on the porcelain. Her favourite china to date.
“If I die without seeing colour-”
“None of that.” Grandmother cut me off with a stern look. “I will not bury another Florian child.” Her brows rose with her forceful gaze. I kept my voice small. Agreeing with her. Did she know the reason Magdelena’s body was never recovered was because she was burnt alive? Or was that just another illusion in my mind? I was starting to go absolutely mental. What was going on with me? Why was she able to lock me in the room and why did I freeze so completely like that?
Grandmother put down her tea, sighing loudly. Tearing me from my thoughts.
“I do think it is time to clean out the room though. But only when you are ready.” Her grey brow rose as she waited for my response. As if warning me to not go in there alone again.
The grief in my chest expanded. It was the final step in saying goodbye to the legacy of my mother.
I could only nod. Soon it would be time but not now. Too many questions remained unanswered.
I returned to my room to change for dinner. Dorian’s scent perfuming the air with hints of daisies and orange. The eerie feeling of being watched crept over my skin. I rolled my shoulders. Hoping to relieve some of the tension. The light of the bathroom was dim when I entered. The cool air tender against my face.
The water was cold as I splashed it over my face. Cleaning the feeling of ash from my appearance. My hands scrubbed at my skin. Pushing into my eyes. Images of the burning woman danced before me. Hot bile rose in my throat as I shook the image from my mind. Turning my focus onto my reflection in the mirror.
Despite feeling like a walking corpse, I looked better than ever. My usually sunken eyes were now vibrant and alive. My skin was still pale but my cheeks were no longer as hollow as they had once been.
My fingers shook slightly as I lifted them to my collar. Unbuttoning them one by one. The dark dress slipped open. I pushed it down over my shoulders. Tugging at the tight sleeves that stuck to my flesh. My chest was now on full display in the mirror. The grey scar stared back at me.
My fingers, still half covered by the sleeves, ghosted over before making contact. A flash of light hit my eyes but this time no vision came. Only the haunted ghostly words of my mother. “He is coming for her.”
“No he isn’t. You need to stop this Adele. You sound mad,” Father responded. I turned to the empty room. Searching for the source of the voices.
“I’m not mad! Death may come for us all but he always favours a Florian.”
“You talk about him as if he is real.”
“He is! The man of night is Death himself. He can kill with a single touch. And he will come for her next.”
The voices faded from the hall. I stepped out of the bathing room. Starting as I noticed myself, no older than eight years old, sitting with her back against the door. A rose clenched in her small fingertips. Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed into her knees. My feet carried me slowly to her. I knelt before myself. Willing her to look at me. My pasts’ own sobs broke my heart.
They used to argue all the time and it was almost always over me. Endless fights echoing through the hall like ghosts. I watched as I lifted my head. Resting it against the door. My present self’s eyes stinging. I couldn’t recall this memory. The same thing happened multiple nights and the memories all blended into one. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for myself. My hand grazing my younger self's cheek, expecting to fall through once again only to make gente contact with her. The skin was warm on contact. Younger me sighed as I ran my thumbs over her cheeks. Clearing the tears.
“You’re safe.” I whispered. My voice drifted through the air like smoke. Younger me stilled.
“Death comes for you but you don’t let him take you.”
A smile brightened her face in my hands. A simple gesture. Words intended to calm not only her, but me too.
I watched in sadness as my younger self faded beneath me like mist. Growing fainter by the second. I wanted nothing more than to hold myself and tell her we made it through. That we survived that dreadful night. But it would be no use. I’m still as terrified of death now as I was as a child. As much as I had previously thought it was easier to die. To rid the world of my wasteful existence, lately that perception has changed. Something made me want to stay. But still wasn’t overly sure what. Was it love? Was I finally craving the one thing I feared? The one thing that chilled me to my core. Or was it both? I would never know.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, drawing closer. Light but scurrying. Dorian was never one to take things slow. She loved the rush and wildness of life. Whereas I prefer to observe, to watch as things unfold and not be swept away into the swirl of chaos that is human life.
I walked back to my bed. Sitting down in the centre and turning to face the window just as Dorian pranced in.
“Vespera.” She almost sung my name with excitement. This was new. Since when was she happy to be here?
“Yes?” I faced her with a confused expression. My brows rose with surprise.
“Your roses are looking marvellous this year.”
I opened my mouth to question her but closed it. It was no use trying to question Dorian when she was in this state. Her eyes wide and pupils blown. She was in the midst of an episode. That much was certain.
“Victor showed me them. Your greenhouse seems to be put to good use.” She smirked. Her slight body twisting as she stalked toward me. More feline than human.
I hunched slightly, bracing myself from whatever she was about to throw my way.
“Don’t let the fire consume you, Vespera. The greenhouse may burn hot but you will burn brighter.”
Fire. The word rolled around in my mind. The heaviness of it lingering.
“Dorian, listen to me.” I said as I stood face to face. Keeping my posture as strong as I could as I held her shoulders. Her wild eyes darted all over the room. “Did you see my aunt?”
“Everywhere.” She whispered. Her focus on the ceiling, eyes darting over every cornice.
“What is everywhere?”
“Your family.” She tilted her head. Her gaze fell just below where I stood. “They have been watching for you.”
An ice chill rolled down my spine.
“Dorian, who is watching for me?”
“The dark one is near.” She breathed, her words almost illegible. “Coming… Unfinished… Angel…Martyr…” The words fell from her. Her body trembled as she watched whatever was behind me. The feeling of cold air flicked over my neck. I pulled Dorian close, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, rubbing small circles on the back of her light dress. Much too thin to be walking around outside in. A layer of damp lace caught between my fingers. I pulled her tighter. My chin resting on her shoulder. Her arms that hung limply by her side now slowly reached behind me. Wrapping them around me. Her grip tightening with the embrace. Dorian’s breathing became ragged. As if she were running. In a way I supposed she was.
“I will lose you. In every way, I always lose you. I can’t lose you. I need you. Please, Vespera. I need you to stay with me.” Her voice grew husky. Warmth filled my eyes at the pain in her voice. The desperation in the tone. Longing and pleading for me to hear. My heart creaked inside of me. Collapsing in on itself. Her head burrowing into my neck. “Please don’t leave me alone. It doesn’t end the way we intend. We won’t survive the night. We don’t survive.”
“Then we go together.” I managed. My throat is thick.
“We can’t. We can’t go. You can’t leave me. We won't survive.”
I was lost for words. Her cry was near deafening as she howled out her fear from her vision. The sound enough to rouse all in the manor spirits and all.
“Come back to me, Dori. I’m here.” I tried to soothe. Willing my words to calm her. To offer any sort of comfort.
“You’re here.” She breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly against my own.
“Wherever you go, Dorian” I cupped her face. Forcing her to look at me through her watery eyes “I follow. I will never leave you.”
She softened slightly.
“We are meant to be. The universe put us together for a reason. You are my sister. The other half of my soul, Dorian. I wouldn’t give up on you that easily.”
Dorian smiled slightly. My thumb brushed away her tears as she huffed in much needed air.
“I’m sorry,” She said after a thick swallow. Her hands were still gripping my waist. “I know the visions aren’t always right but this one felt too real.” She avoided my gaze, dropping her hands by her sides.
“Then we will rewrite our future. One where we run off into fields of wildflowers and lie like old sisters.” I smiled through the emotions storming inside me. Dorian managed a laugh. The sound was more strangled than anything. I took it gratefully.
“I think we best prepare for dinner and get you into something dry.”
Dorian looked down at her dirt caked hands, a frown lining her forehead.
“I don’t remember digging in the dirt,” She muttered.
“No matter. Come.” I took her dirty hand in mine, guiding her to the bathroom.