Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I led Victor up the town centre only six streets from the store. Dorian had moved out of her parents’ house to reside in her grandmother's run down old cottage. The weeds in the garden climbed toward the roof along the walls of the brick house. Dead blooms lined the chipped stone walkway. Victor mumbled something about the state of the cottage but I paid him no mind. My thoughts solely focused on how Dorian would feel about a stranger in her home. She screeched so loudly the last time, her distant cousin ran far and never returned. I knocked once, my fist rapping lightly on the wood before it creaked open.
“Dori? It’s Vessie. I’m coming in.” I called before stepping over the threshold.
Victor’s hand fell on my back, the somewhat soothing movement left my body feeling tingly, and not in a good way.
I stepped forward once more through the main entrance. Weeds crept through the broken floorboards. Dust lining every surface, each window coated in a thick layer of grime. Dorian had tried to clean the home on multiple occasions but it never lasted long. The weeds would always grow back within no time through the floorboards.
“Are you sure it is safe in here?” Victor whispered cautiously.
“Safer than the manor.” I released a breath. Victor snorted behind me.
The floor creaked as I took another step. The sitting room was bare, the only furniture not covered in bundles of fabric was an old armchair in the centre of the room. A teacup perched on the seat.
I called out for Dorian one last time.
“Maybe she isn’t in.” Victor stepped beside me, his hand not having moved from my lower back.
The sound of shuffling sounded down the short hall.
The slight woman poked her head through the doorway. Her smile widening as I walked toward her. She sprinted toward me, throwing her thin arms around my neck. I shifted at the feeling, remembering the strangers' hands around mine. The pain of that night fleeting like a ghost over me. A shudder followed in its wake.
“Oh Vespera! I was so worried about you!” She cried, her grip tightening a fraction.
How she knew I was attacked was beyond me. No one outside of the manor and the police knew. Grandmother herself made certain. Sometimes Dorian knew things no other soul could know. That’s why the townspeople talked, labelling her a witch.
The visions would sometimes render her near useless, she could become a recluse for days, studying as much as she can, or a manic episode follows. She shies away from any form of physical contact, but will lean in to her wit to compensate
Dorian pulled back. Her dark eyes staring at me through strands of frazzled hair. Her hands cupping my face. She tore her gaze from me, moving to Victor. Her limbs moving ungracefully from my neck as she took a step back. As if she had forgotten to use them her searching gaze narrowed.
“Not him,” She mumbled. Her hand slowly reaching up to touch his jaw. Victor’s hand left my back but I caught his wrist before he could brush her away. It was best to let Dorian come to her senses. Her eyes glazed over. Victor’s uncomfortable gaze slid to mine, his expression pleading for help. Her mumbled words soothed the anxiety in my chest though. I didn’t know how she meant them but I took them the way I needed them.
“Dori.” I urged softly trying to get her attention. Her hand finally made contact with Victor’s clean shaven cheek. He stiffened at the touch of her fingertips brushing over his skin.
“Calathea,” She whispered before stepping back as if his skin burnt her. She cradled her hand in the other. A frown lining her thin lips.
“Vespera,” She said suddenly her eyes clearing.
“Yes, Dorian?” I loosened a pent up breath.
“You shouldn’t be out.” She snapped. “Someone tried to kill you. Yet you come see me, you silly little fool.”
“Yes. I did.” She rolled her eyes at my response. Her dirt covered sleeve hung off her arm as she gestured toward the kitchen. I walked first, guiding Victor down the hall. I really should have forewarned him about her. She wasn’t this bad the last time I had seen her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
I sat at the small table, Victor moved to stand behind me, seemingly my new protector.
Dorian mumbled to herself as she brewed a pot of tea. Measuring assorted herbs and placing them in the pot. Once the water was over the flame, Dorian turned her attention back to Victor.
“I apologise for my actions earlier. I have not been myself as of late.” She tried to smile. The expression still seemingly forced and unnatural.
“I understand. None of us have been ourselves as of late,” Victor said as he laid a hand on my shoulder. Dorian hummed, raising her eyebrows at the sight. A twinkle of mischief in her gaze.
“Dorian. This is Victor. Arthur’s new apprentice.” I pressed. Knowing she would pester me for answers the next time we were alone.
“Charmed to meet you. I am Dorian. Vespera’s only friend.” Possession ebbing through her tone. She looked over Victor once more. Nodding as she moved from the stove to the table. Pouring a splash of her strange brew in a single cup.
“To help your mind,” She whispered. Knowing my whirlwind of thoughts never ceasing as usual. I thanked her before blowing on the boiled murky liquid.
“Do you see colour, Victor?” she bubbled.
“Ah, yes. I do…” He trailed off, noticing Dorian’s wicked grin.
“How curious,” She practically sang. Humour and amusement brightening her face.
I shifted my leg under the table, kicking her shin. Anger flashed in her eyes at the impact before clearing back her strange mischief. I frowned before sipping the bitter tea. The horrible taste filling my mouth. My nose scrunching at the distaste.
“Victor, would you be a dear and fetch me some daisies from my garden.” Dorian waved toward the door. Victor hurried off as if grateful for the excuse to leave. The front door clicked shut and Dorian leant forward. Her foot colliding with my leg. I winced in pain.
“You bring a man here without consulting me first?” She hissed. Keeping her voice low. Her gaze glowering at me.
“I couldn’t leave without him. It’s not as if you would visit me at the manor.” I matched her tone.
“Too much death. You know that.” She waved me away, straightening in her chair. I shook my head with a frown. Her face a mask of arrogance
“Speaking of which, I have a salve for the bruises on your neck.” Her eyes darted toward the door before continuing. “Be careful around him.”
“Why? What do you see?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem. I just can’t seem to see a thing about him.” She exhaled with frustration, nodding her head in the direction Victor disappeared.
I slumped back in my chair. Another person to fear. Just what I needed. The anxiety came running back.
“He does see colour though.” Dorian teased as she took the cup from my hands.
“What does that mean?”
“Your soulmate is supposed to be just like you, are they not?” She winked before downing the cup of tea. Her face screwing up with blatant disgust.
“No wonder you didn’t drink it,” She muttered. Throwing the liquid over her shoulder to land on the tiles behind her.
“What do you mean Dori?” I pressed.
“That drink was putrid. Did you not taste it?” Her eyes grew wide. Irritation rose to the surface of my skin. I was eager to press on and get exactly the answer I wanted.
“Dorian, I swear to God-”
“Found some!” Victor’s cheerful voice cut me off.
“Perfect.” Dorian bubbled. Her knowing smirk plastered on her face. “I’ll make the salve.”
We left the cottage to return to a bustling town centre. The townspeople all going about their daily life. My mind swirled with thoughts. What did Dorian mean by just like me? Were they almost killed? Could they see no colour also?
People drifted past as we walked in content silence to our carriage just up ahead. Some stared, others ignoring me as usual. I glanced across the bustling street. One person caught my attention.
“Can I interest you in a luncheon, Miss Florian?” Victor’s voice tore me from the strange man across the street. Although I could not see his face beneath his hat, shivers still ghosted over my skin. My body froze at the sight of him staring at me. My fingers clenched my bag of seeds and salve tighter.
“Victor.” My voice cracked. The stranger across the cobblestone road took a step toward me.
“Yes?”
“We need to leave,” I whispered, keeping my gaze on the strange man in the dark coat.
Victor looked from me to the man. His hand wound its way through my shaking free hand. The bruises on my neck hidden from sight now tingling with a sudden pain.
“Come.” Victor urged, pulling me softly toward him. The man stepped forward once more, my heart leaping into my throat.
I squeezed my fingers against Victor’s before hurrying into the awaiting carriage.
My breathing came in hard and fast and as I slumped back in my chair, I could finally focus on getting my breathing back to normal. Not caring about being proper in my posture as I reclined. My heart thumped in my chest.
Victor sat in front of me, cautious eyes alight with worry. I clenched mine closed not wanting to look into his any further. I could still feel his hand on my bare skin.
He was touching me. His hand was on mine yet no colour came to fruition. Despite the strange man lingering outside, a weight in my chest lifted.
Victor was not the man I was set to love.
But that only poses another question.
Who was?