Chapter Twenty-Six
Austin
“Austin, are you alright?” Dahlia asked as Austin stepped out of the laboratory. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click.
“Of course, my lady,” he flashed her a beaming smile.
Dahlia arched a brow high on her forehead. It turned Austin’s smile into a grimace. She studied him until his grimace fell to a frown. He hung his head after a minute of scrutiny. Dahlia sighed, “Come with me, I’ve got a fix for that.”
He didn’t argue. There was no arguing with Dahlia Rosemont.
Especially not as she wrapped her fingers around his forearm and walked him to the kitchen.
She sat him down in a chair before going to the fridge.
She rummaged through it for a moment before huffing, “Who has been eating all the raw meat?”
“My lady?” Austin croaked, turning to look at her over his shoulder.
“I wasn’t going to make any, but that’s the third butcher’s package I’ve found just left open in the drawer.
And I know the chicken breast didn’t just walk out of this fridge!
” She huffed, kicking the drawer shut with her boot.
Dahlia pulled away from the fridge, her hip closing the heavy, creaking door.
When she joined him at the table, she had a giant bowl of pudding with a dollop of whip cream in the middle and two spoons.
“You’re not eating it, are you, Austin?”
“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Though, I might know who is.”
“Who? I swear if it’s Melody playing a prank on me, I’ll skin that funny fucking mutt!” Dahlia snarled before stabbing into the wiggly pudding.
“It’s Snuffles.” Austin took a scoop of his own. They both raised their spoonfuls to the air and clinked them together.
Dahlia stopped, the chocolate mixture halfway to her mouth. “The bunny?”
“He’s a meat-eating bunny.” Austin shrugged.
Dahlia scowled for a long moment before she finally ate her pudding. After swallowing she waggled her spoon at him. “Look, I don’t care if he’s a toe-eating bunny. Keep. Him. Out. Of. My. Meat. Drawer.”
“Yes, my lady.” Austin took another stab of pudding and popped it into his mouth.
While he didn’t want her worrying over him, he couldn’t help but admit…
pudding really did fix it. His stomach stopped twisting up in knots.
He could finally take a breath in as Dahlia muttered about rabbits ruining her dinner plans.
It wasn’t till after they’d eaten half the bowl, that she asked the more important question. Dahlia was scooping out more pudding, granting him the kindness of not being under her scrutinizing stare when she spoke. “So, are we going to talk about why you’ve been sad?”
“What? When?” he blurted out almost robotically.
It was habit at that point. Dahlia didn’t even acknowledge it with a look.
Instead, continuing to sculpt a divot in their pudding.
Austin steadied his gaze on the whip that he spread across what was left of their pudding.
Why am I sad? Is this even sadness? It feels…
different. I feels harsher. It feels buried in my bones.
His words came out like a wheeze he squeezed out of his lungs.
“Every time Lord Rosemont has needed me, I was strong enough to save him. I once carried his body for miles in a torrential downpour. I swam us to shore a few times. I even helped with that dragon. I was the one creation he could always rely on.”
Dahlia hummed in understanding. “Until The Hungry One?”
Austin took a rushed bite of pudding, but it didn’t taste like chocolate at all. It tasted like graveyard soil. He was forced to swallow the gritty, earthy lump. He didn’t mean for his voice to crack as he spoke, but there was no way to hide it. “I wasn’t able to keep you safe, my lady.”
My fault. Weak. My fault. Useless. My fault. Replaceable.
“Austin,” she exhaled his name, finally peeking up from the bowl.
“And ever since then, it’s been one mistake after the next. I am…” He didn’t dare finish that sentence. Not while her steel blue eyes scanned him. She put a hand to his arm, brushing her thumb against him softly.
“Hey, I’m going to warn you once, okay?” She smiled slightly mischievously.
“Don’t be mean to my friend. He’s really funny and kind and generous.
He’s protected me from so much more than some eldritch god that he doesn’t even realize that every single day he’s around, I am thankful.
Because his worth isn’t tied to his ability to be some knight in shining armor or massive defender.
All the gold in all of King’s Fall couldn’t even compare to how much he’s worth to me and me alone.
Of all the things I’m thankful for in my life, Austin, you’re one of them.
So don’t you dare be mean to one of my best friends in the world.
Who else will catch bats in my bathroom at three am or hold me back from scratching people’s eyes out? Huh?”
Austin sputtered, the spoon falling out of his fingers.
Warm tears stung his eyes as he stared at Dahlia.
She offered him a sweet, sympathetic look.
Lips twisted up at the eyes, eyes slighty red like she might cry, but she didn’t because there was a glow from below that illuminated the kitchen.
Getting up to her feet, she wrapped her arms around him, dragging him into a tight hug.
Austin embraced her back. She smelled of puff pastry, vanilla, and some herb he couldn’t place.
Like home, because Dahlia Rosemont was home to him.
Sebastian, the house, Agatha, Smith: they were all home to him.
And he didn’t want to admit he felt like he’d failed them.
Then Dahlia Rosemont reminded him of all the little things and he felt so silly.
It didn’t get rid of the dark ache in his chest. It didn’t scoop away the rot from the flesh lining his chest cavity.
No, he knew that it was his mess alone to clean up.
But hearing her say those words…It soothed the pain.
Her understanding was a balm. His smile didn’t feel so forced as she sat back down and put his spoon back in his fingers.
“See, told you,” she winked as him as she took another scoop. “Pudding just tends to fix things. Makes you feel better about all the things you can’t control.”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “It does.”
Like how Hyacinth disappeared? He couldn’t control her, and he feared he’d upset her. For what, he didn’t know, but the feeling as he chased after a disappearing shadow, was that she didn’t want him to follow. I can’t control how others feel, but tell me, my flower. What did I do?
Dahlia and Austin finished off the bowl in peaceful silence. He didn’t want to break the nice bubble between them. But as he washed the container and went to dry his hands, his mind kept going back to Hyacinth.
“My lady, may I ask something kind of personal?” He turned to find her rifling through the pantry for something. She stopped immediately and dusted off her hands.
“Of course, what’s wrong?” Unfortunately for him, his tongue got in the way.
More it was his consciousness realizing that he was about to talk about what happened down in the lab and his collar grew warm.
Then his hands got clammy again. And he replayed when he sat on the stool all over again and he was pretty sure he was sweating.
“Hyacinth. Well, I mean, it was me—well, no, so we both—it’s not like, no, no it is like—”
“Austin, please, for the love of my insanity, spit it out,” she laughed. Austin wiped his damp palms across his clothes.
“After Hyacinth and I had sex, she ran away and I don’t know what I did.” he confessed in a single breath.
Dahlia blinked at him before seemingly coming to her senses with a shake of her head. “I guess that entirely depends on what you said prior to her running away. And furthermore, this was not a personal question. Austin. You did not ask me anything. But I’m about to ask you a ton of things.”
“Oh,” he wheezed nervously. Now I’ve done it. “Right—”
Dahlia waved her hand in front of her, “No, no, I’m sorry, you wanted to ask something. I will hold my tongue. Please, as you were saying.”
Austin gave her a moment to collect herself while he also tried to figure out how to control the words projectile launching out of his maw.
“Hyacinth and I were together, down in the lab. We were talking, then things got heated. And one thing led to another and before I knew it, she was…asking me why I was made.”
Dahlia’s face fell from the impish grin it’d become while he spoke. She stepped forward, hands clutching her skirts. “And you told her, what? Exactly?”
“Well, I told her I knew why I was made. But she said she didn’t know why she was made. And so I told her that Lord Rosemont made her to be a part of this family.” Austin wrung his shirt hard.
Dahlia groaned, rolling her eyes. “Austin!”
“What! Was that wrong?” He gawked, throwing his arms out to the side.
She grabbed a tea towel and swatted his arm. “Yes! That was wrong.”
“Ow! Wait—”
“I didn’t even hit you that hard,” she huffed.
Dahlia used it to clean up the soaping kitchen counter as she continued, “Austin, Hyacinth is in a very vulnerable place right now. She doesn’t know where or how she fits into this world and you’re a person she turns to.
That she trusts to tell her the truth, because you know how she feels.
You know she wasn’t made just to be a part of this family.
While we love her and she’s absolutely a part of this family, that wasn’t why she was brought to life. And you know that.”
Austin groaned louder, hanging his head back. “But if I tell her Lord Rosemont made her to fix me, then she’ll feel pressure to do that. That’s not what I want for her.”
“And what is it you want for her?” Dahlia turned, crossing her arms over her chest.
“To be happy!” Austin barked, the whole world heating up but especially around his ears.
His tongue was too big for his mouth but even that couldn’t stop the words from flying out of him “To not feel burdened with purpose. It’s done nothing but harm me.
This-this-this need to do the thing you’re meant for. A greater purpose. It’s all bullshit!”
Dahlia’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. He just blinked at her. It’s bullshit. I said it. I meant it. Austin was breathing heavy as he stalked across the kitchen. Preconceived purpose is nothing but a death sentence.
“It’s the whole reason I am distraught but cannot fix it.
It’s why I can’t sleep! I tell myself that my purpose, my reason for being here is to be this great protector.
That’s what I was made for but knowing that has done nothing but cause me harm.
You said yourself for me not to be mean to myself.
I can’t be mean to her either. I’d rather she think I’m lying to her than tell her the truth that she was made because I am miserable and Lord Rosemont thinks she will fix that.
Fix me. He fears that I wish to unwind myself.
And maybe…maybe there for a little bit I did. ”
The air in the room was sucked out as Austin finally said the thing plaguing him out loud. I wished sometimes I wasn’t made, because then maybe I wouldn’t feel like a failure. Or like it was all my fault.
“But you no longer feel this way, correct?”
Austin jerked to the right, finding Lord Rosemont leaning cooly against the kitchen door.
His maker took off his mask, showing him the concerned face beneath it.
Sebastian slunk across the floor to join Dahlia by the counters.
Austin took a moment to really think about it. Not just his answer but the truth.
You no longer feel this way, correct?
He was still sad. He was still fighting those dark thoughts. But do I want to pull on my thread?
“No.” He gave him a genuine, soft smile. “I don’t.”
“See, I told you,” Dahlia huffed, slapping a wet towel against her husband’s chest. “You all just need to eat more pudding.”
Sebastian snorted but Austin knew better than to argue. The Lich of the Manor rolled his eyes where Dahlia couldn’t see, or so he thought, a wicked grin curling up on his face. “Of course, my love.”
“Do not roll your eyes at me, Sebastian Rosemont, you’re still on thin fucking ice,” Dahlia hissed as she sauntered out of the kitchen. “Exile me to the Nightmare Realm, we’ll see if I don’t banish you to the fucking doghouse.”
Sebastian and Austin shared a look, but he couldn’t speak.
Dahlia bellowed her husbands name from in the house and Austin motioned for his maker to go after her.
Besides, Austin needed a shower. Then he needed to see Agatha about a sewing pattern.
Inspiration had struck and he was too weak to ignore it.