Chapter Text
A child’s laughter rings in the corridors of the Henituse manor, an echo that seem to be here and there all at once.
A young maid sobs, trying to stop her trembling limbs, body pressed closed and hands gripping at the skirt of the older maid beside her, face pale with fear.
"You'll get used to it, love."
The older maid tells her, patting her back, voice gentle and understanding,
"We all did."
The young maid nods, trying to stifle a scream when at the corner of her eye she spots a pale translucent hand holding onto the curtains, making the fabric sway.
"He's playing hide and seek."
The older maid explains, patting the younger maid’s hair in reassurance before turning towards the curtains, cupping her hands by her lips to call out.
"I found you! Young master! Good job hiding!"
Another set of childish echoing laughter rings and the translucent hand disappears with a final sway of the curtains.
A midnight spring storm fell upon the people of the Henituse County.
Under the light of a single flickering candelabra, Bassen sits on a couch in the library, careful not to make sudden movements.
The crying can be heard echoing here all night.
"It's ok."
Bassen says softly to the flickering shadows and the heavy empty air,
"I'm scared of the thunder too. I know it’s scary, so I'll stay here with you so you won't be alone."
The crying quiets, then starts up again when another thunder boomed.
"It's ok, I'm here."
Bassen kept repeating these words, steady and patient, and after a while the crying softens and disappears, and along with it the cold weight around Bassen's shoulders.
It was an innocent question voiced as they pass by portraits lining the corridor.
"What does big brother look like?" Lily asks her mother, "Father hid all his paintings, and I can't remember what he looks like anymore."
Violan gives her a sad smile, and the hand holding hers tightens for a moment, but her mother answers her anyway.
"Well, he has bright red hair like sunsets," she says, "and eyes like earth on a warm sunny day."
Lily considers this, before wondering once again.
"What does big brother’s smile look like?"
Lily asks, for in her memories her big brother is just an apparition, a hazy thing that plays with her at night and disappears before she could take a proper look.
A tear fell and Lily catches it, and suddenly she regrets asking.
"I don't know," Violan says, sorrow in her voice she could not all hide, "I don't know my child.”
She speaks of truth.
“I'm sorry."
The corridor smelled strongly of wine out of nowhere and everyone in the corridor scatter, trying to run away.
Not long after a vase flies through the air and crashes into the wall, followed by the tables being overturned and chairs flung about.
The light fixtures explode one after the other, then a scream; a wail that shakes the walls, shatters glass, and topples anything that isn’t nailed to the floor.
"You should stay away, my Lord."
An orange haired servant nervously advices behind the Count who stood passively in the entrance of the corridor, unmoving.
"No, I'll stay."
Deruth says, expression betraying nothing as he passively observes the destruction ahead.
"He's just having a tantrum."
An image flicker in the hall of a young man in his teens, face contorted into an angry scowl, lips moving but no words come out, only wails that shake the walls and echo inscrutable all around.
"I'm listening."
Deruth says, voice faltering only briefly,
"I'm listening, son."
The "this time" remains unsaid.
"I'm here with you, I won't run away."
Deruth clenches his fists, takes a step forward, and says again,
"I'm here with you, I'm listening."
The room trembles.
The image flicker of a child, of a teen, of a man with bloody, bloody wrists, and of a child once again.
The smell of wine disappears and the room stills.
In the breakfast table there are five set of plates, one for each Henituse.
By the end of the meal all the plates are cleared away even when the one at the other end of the table is still full food, untouched.
Vicross scrapes the food down the trash, and prepares another meal.
In the west wing of the Henituse Manor is a room that is always empty, and yet it is a room that Ron keeps tidy every day.
Today his eyes shook, staring at the bed in front of him.
He reaches out a hand, slowly shaking awake the figure in front of him.
"Young master, it is morning."
The figure stirs.
“It is surprising to see you wake up after a single attempt.”
“Huh?”
“The master wishes to dine with the young master since it has been a while. It looks like it will be possible today.”
Ron smiles and hides his shaking hands behind his back.
The young master had asked for water and Ron complies, passing by the Counts office before returning to the young master's side.
Cale Henituse joins the family for breakfast, trying to ignore the gasps and stares of the servants, of the weird looks of the Count and the Countess, of the clatter of Bassen's fork.
Cale asks for money, drinks his wine, buys his bread, gets his kittens, and brings back a ruffian from the streets
Deruth stands by the window, listening to the report of his son's activities, trying not to burst into tears.
His son has changed, but he supposed it doesn't matter.
At least this son is warm and breathing.
At least this son he can hold close and could hear him apologizing.
At least this son is living.