Circumstances of graph (4)
-What did he look like?
- What?
– James Christopher. What was he like?
- Well, I only saw him from afar. He was unhappy because you did not come out to meet him, and he told Isabella to bring you.
His gaze was like that of a snake looking for prey. A chill ran down my spine when I remembered this man.
The world is filled with many people, and since childhood I have come across different personalities. James evoked a feeling of danger. It seemed that if cannibalism were possible, he could easily eat another person.
“He looked intimidating.” There was an oppressive atmosphere around him.
- Yes. That's why you shouldn't come close to him. Try not to meet him alone. And if you bump into him, don’t raise your head, don’t look him in the eyes, and don’t talk to him.
– Do you think our meeting is possible?
- Anything is possible. And given the fact that you are next to me, the chances of this increase.
– Why did you contact such a person?
– Because everything has its exceptions.
These words sounded like a lament. He looked depressed and I lowered my shoulders so he could lean on them. He began to stir.
“It wasn’t like that before.”
- He's Christopher. You said that you and Sir Ethan were old friends. So you must have seen this person often.
– Not often, only sometimes. James always seemed busy. However, he was a straightforward but responsible person to look up to. He often played with us children. James changed when Earl Christopher died.
- Count Christopher?
- Ethan's father. He was killed.
Oh God. I remembered Ethan, cheerful and cheerful. He was a bright person; the grief he experienced was not felt in him. At the same time, I remembered his brother Lucas. Lucas was definitely thoughtful. Although he smiled, it seemed that it was difficult for him.
-What about the criminal? Was he caught?
“Unfortunately, we can only guess who it was, because the identity of the culprit was never revealed. There were suspects present during the incident, but no hard evidence was found. The case remains unsolved. And control of the Christopher family passed to James, and now he is Earl Christopher.
James was used to commanding, his demeanor was very domineering. As I thought about this, I began to tremble again, and I rubbed my shoulders needlessly.
“He has changed since he took over the county. It was as if he was a completely different person, not the one I knew. He became ruthless and stopped at nothing to get his way. He is not afraid to manipulate and kill people. He is capable of killing me and his family members if necessary. Yes... He became completely different.
– No, I don’t think he could have changed that much.
“Perhaps this was his true nature.”
You never know what's inside a person. Vincent squatted down. I moved closer to him, wondering if he was cold from the wind. Our bodies touched and we basked in each other's warmth. But in places where there was no contact, cold was felt.
-So if you see James, run. Run and don't look back. If someone tries to grab you, don't look back. It's for your own good.
- And you?
– I... I’ll also try to run away as far as possible.
He paused for a moment, as if thinking. I wondered what he was thinking about. But his closed eyes betrayed no thoughts. Even if he appears calm on the outside, there must be anxiety raging inside.
And then an unexpected question came into my head.
-Why did he need to make you blind?
-...
At that moment, Vincent opened his eyes. The weight pressing on my body subsided, and he stared into space. I was afraid that I had offended him.
But that was not the case. The breeze blew his hat aside, revealing golden hair that danced in the air. He didn't move. His eyes looked into space, as if searching for the past.
“As I said, some things should be kept secret, and breaking them and asking questions will only cause trouble.” Whether it's right or wrong doesn't matter. The question is whether you can handle this secret.
-...
“His target was not me.”
The wind rustled around him, carrying his voice. But the oncoming impulse swallowed him up. Secrets were hidden and silence enveloped the area.
I couldn't breathe.
Secrets must remain secrets. But still he entrusted me with some of them.
“It’s not up to me to put an end to this.”
He took his hat and pulled it back over his eyes, as if to hide. Then he leaned against my shoulder, reached behind me and rattled the iron gate. He closed his eyes, listening to the creak.
Now there was only the sound of the wind around. I replayed his words in my head. Then, in a fit of panic, I erased them, but they resurfaced in my memory.
“Who was this man aiming at then?”
* * *
In my opinion, it was just a big, beautiful place. Forests around, gardens inside, magnificent mansions, their richly decorated interiors, furniture, ornaments, all the framed paintings on the walls. I didn't come here to daydream, but being here made me dream.
It was a wonderful place to dream. But underneath the outer shine there was darkness. Darkness that is sticky to the touch and thick enough to swallow you.
"This is no place for idle dreams."
Perhaps it was too frivolous to think that a lot of money would make me happy, that more things would make people happier.
We emerged from the forest as the sun was already setting and darkness began to engulf the surroundings. Just in case, we entered through the back door and Isabella greeted us. We didn't say anything and the man seemed to go home.
After that nothing much happened. Just the usual routine - taking care of the master. After a short jolt, my daily life quickly became calm and normal.
“When I look at the sky, I want to leave. Go to a distant place where no one knows me.”
As usual, I read the letter written in gold letters, but in the radiance of colors I caught a note of sadness. I shook my head and Isabella handed me the next letter. “Dear Paula” was written on the outside of the envelope. This is from Violet.
“I am writing to you because I want to talk to you alone.”
Below she wrote that she ordered a new dress this time, but the lace on the skirt was ugly and she didn't know what to do about it. After a few more lines of complaints about the dress, the letter ended with a story about her day.
I took a pen and scribbled down Violet's answer. These were small and unremarkable everyday affairs compared to her letter, but they filled the entire page. I put it in the envelope and again took the letter with gold letters, but Isabella stopped me.
– You don’t have to answer these letters anymore.
- Oh.
She took the letter and threw it into the fireplace, where it quickly burned. At first I wondered if this was right, but then I remembered that it was in the fireplace that I first found a letter with gold ink. Later I asked Isabella about this, and she told me that she did not keep these letters, but immediately threw them into the fireplace to burn. Perhaps she didn't want to leave a trace.
Still, I was disappointed. We wrote quite a lot of letters to each other, and at first it was difficult for me to write an answer, but when I got used to it, it even became funny. I looked forward to the letters and anticipated what they would say when they arrived. If something made me feel good, I wrote about it in response.
I thought a lot about what to write, even if it was just a few lines, so I was always polite in my short letters. At some point, I became so curious about who I was writing to that I tried to guess the sender among Vincent's friends. But nothing came of it.
For a long time I could not take my eyes off the golden letters as they turned to ashes. I had to replace my disappointment by exchanging letters with other people.
And then one day, when I was already starting to get used to a quiet life, this happened:
Late in the evening, when the moon was hidden by clouds and the only noise in the mansion was the rain that had been falling since midday, there was an unexpected knock on the door. I sleepily rubbed my eyes and felt for the lamp on the nightstand. The oil in the lamp ran out, so I lit the candle, put it in the candlestick and left the room. Vincent also heard the knock and was just leaving the room.
“I’ll be right back, and you can continue to sleep.”
- I'll go with you.
- It's okay, go back to the room.
- I'm already awake.
Showing rare stubbornness, he went downstairs with me. When I opened the door, I found a man soaked to the skin, and my heart sank at the sight of his face.
- Lucas?
I looked him up and down in shock and heard Lucas mutter something. But it was drowned out by the rain.
- What? – I repeated, taking a step closer, and he raised his head.
At that moment lightning struck, and through the crackling of the flashes I saw his nervous face for a second. Two or three more lightning flashes followed, and then darkness fell all around again, but the man I caught a glimpse of was so pale that he could be seen even in the darkness.
- Lucas?
- Vincent... I'm here to see my brother.
(Editor's note: hereinafter Lucas will sometimes refer to Vincent as “brother.” This is his way of showing his affection)
I quickly turned around. Vincent stood at the foot of the stairs, holding onto the railing. Lucas's gaze fell on Vincent.
- Brother.
- Come in.
Vincent turned and walked up the stairs, Lucas following. Water dripped from it, forming a path. I hastily closed the door behind me and quickly followed them.
Once in Vincent's room, I took a towel from the bathroom and handed it to Lucas. He thanked me and wiped his face.
After that they fell silent. Lucas held back, even though he seemed to have something to say, and Vincent was waiting for him.
In the heavy silence, Vincent took my hand.
- Go back to your room.
- But...
- It's okay, go.
I stole a glance at Lucas. I was hesitant to leave Vincent alone with him, but when the gentleman waved at me again, I reluctantly returned to my room. I lay down, pressed my ear to the wall and closed my eyes. Vincent's bed was just on the other side of the wall from my bed, so if I concentrated, I could hear faint sounds. But this was not enough to make out the words.
Soon a faint muttering was heard. Their conversation continued for a long time until the candle went out.