8 – Escaping Troubles
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Crack.

 

There was the sound of a glass breaking in the silence of the dining hall. Venice’s usual smile was gone, replaced by a vicious scowl that caused all the servants to take a step back. She glared at the Viscount, shoulders trembling in rage. “What did you say?!”

The Viscount frowned in displeasure, face flushed with alcohol. He raised his voice, just short of outright shouting. “I shan’t repeat myself! Most noblewomen are engaged by sixteen and married by eighteen. Yet you’ve reached the age of twenty and haven’t even a single suitor in sight!”

Calun watched in silence as the two faced each other, rain pattering against the windows of the estate. 

Her hands were cut from the shattered wine glass, but Venice didn’t seem to notice as she pointed a bloodied finger at the Viscount. “You…!”

The Viscount’s tone was unyielding. “The decision has been made.”

Venice stared at the Viscount for a few seconds before giving a mirthless laugh. “Alright, father. Very good.” She sneered, a hint of hysteria in her voice. “Very good!”

Afterwards, she stabbed her fork into the wooden table with a dull ‘thud’ and stormed out of the dining hall. A bolt of thunder streaked across the night sky as the fireplace roared in the background, casting writhing shadows across the walls and floor. The servants huddled in the corners of the room, none daring to take away Venice’s half-finished dishes.

The Viscountess was murmuring in the ear of the Viscount in an attempt to placate him. It was to no avail as he stood up and left with a scowl. The Viscountess sighed and followed him out, lace dress trailing on the stone floor.

Klaes was finishing the food on his plate with a calm expression, but the corners of his eyes were upturned. Calun supposed he wasn’t in any way displeased with this turn of events.

Having finished his own meal a while ago, Calun also took his leave, heading in the same direction as his sister. The windows rattled in the wind and rain, shrouding the residence in a lonely and dreary atmosphere. 

 

After walking for a while, he ended up in front of a closed door, candlelight leaking out between the doorframe. Voices came from within, and Calun recognized one of them as Venice’s. He hesitated, deciding whether to go in or to leave when the door suddenly opened. He was faced with an elderly man, one that he had seen several times around the residence, but never had a chance to sit down and talk with.

“...Watkin.”

The person in front was the head steward, someone who had been employed even before the previous Viscount’s passing a decade ago. Although his head was full of grey hairs and skin full of wrinkles, he carried himself with a precise grace. That the estate had been able to function normally despite the current Viscount’s negligence was entirely attributed to this one person.

He was also the person that had taught Venice most of what she knew.

Watkin bowed respectfully, placing a gloved hand over his chest. “Greetings, Lord Calun. This servant was just leaving.”

“I see. Is Venice alright?” Calun asked in a quiet tone to avoid alerting the person inside the room to his presence.

Watkin paused as if taken aback by his concern. “Lady Venice is… stronghearted. This servant believes she will recover.”

That is to say, she isn’t fine right now. 

Calun nodded at Watkin before pushing the door open and walking in. Aside from a few empty bottles of liquor on the table, the entire room was clean and well organized. 

 

“...Watkin?” Venice mumbled in confusion at his entrance. Calun was surprised to see her so inebriated since she was usually adverse towards alcohol. When asked about it, she stated that it reminded her of the Viscount’s drinking problem.

“It’s me.” Calun made his way over to the bed that Venice was resting on.

“Oh.” She lifted the arm that was covering her eyes and gave him a brief glance before shutting her eyes again. “Do you need help?”

Calun sighed. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? Are you... unwell?”

There was a disdainful snort before Venice grabbed a bottle, only to find it empty. “Unwell? Not at all. In fact, I’m better than I’ve ever been. Now, hand me that over there.”

He found a half-finished bottle where Venice was pointing and recognized it as one of the more expensive alcohols. Perhaps it had been taken from the Viscount’s stash? Calun handed it to her wordlessly.

Rather than drinking it, Venice held the flask in her arms as she pulled out the enchanted bracelet that Calun had given her before and slipped it on her wrist. She held up the bottle, watching the candlelight dance on the glass for a while before speaking. 

“What do you think of me?”

“What I think of you?” It was an unexpected question.

“Don’t try to flatter me. Be honest. Or I’ll hit you with this bottle.” Venice muttered before uncapping it and taking in a mouthful. It seemed she was more drunk than he’d thought. 

Calun thought it over before answering carefully. “You’re a hard worker.”

“And?”

“You’re always organized.”

“I didn’t ask for only compliments.” Venice waved the bottle menacingly, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “What else?”

“...You’re hard to talk to?”

“Aha. That’s where you’re wrong.” Venice pointed a bandaged finger towards the ceiling meaningfully, as if unraveling a great secret. “It’s not that I’m hard to talk to.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s that nobody cares about what I have to say.” Venice put on a bitter, mocking grin. “Because I’m the daughter, and not the son.”

“Tell me. In what way am I inferior to my dear brother Klaes?” She continued on, not giving Calun a chance to speak. “I’m older. I work harder. I spend more time managing the territory than he and father combined.”Venice sat up and took another mouthful of alcohol while muttering profanities under her breath. Cradling the bottle in her arms with her back against the wall, she looked rather lonely. Calun was struck with a strange, unexplainable emotion.

“I think you’re good at what you do,” Calun spoke up. “I’ll try to speak to father and cha-”

“No need. It had to happen eventually.” Venice snorted. “I was worried because father and Klaes are completely inept. You, however, have a brain in your head.”

Calun watched in silence as Venice finished the bottle and set it aside. He’d been sitting down for a while, the wooden chair beneath him hard and uncomfortable. Numerous candles were in the desk drawer, evidence of long nights spent awake and eyes strained in the dim candlelight. Calun could imagine the strain and frustration his sister had suffered through, all for naught.

“It had to happen eventually,” Venice repeated as she looked up at him. “Any more questions?

“No. I’ll do my best.” He said, suddenly feeling burdened by an important expectation.

“Thanks.” Venice stretched out a hand and ruffled his hair. He only blinked in surprise. 

It had been forever since someone had shown him an affectionate gesture. In his previous life, he had always been too busy to make small talk with others. Venice removed her hand as she collapsed on the bed, fleeting warmth like an illusion.

“I’m going to sleep. I feel like shit.” Venice muttered into the pillow. “Extinguish the table lamp, won’t you?”

 

Calun did as she asked before leaving the room. He was still a little dazed by the time he arrived at his own room. He might not be able to convince the Viscount to change his mind, but there were other ways he could help. Calun woke up from his stupor and began choosing a few accessories to begin enchanting. 

A jeweled necklace. A decorative ring. A pair of matching earrings. Calun planned on giving them to Venice after setting some minor enchantments.

Unfortunately, it was in vain.

The city will be fine without me. Because you’re here. Venice had said that sentence as Calun was closing the door, voice strangely at ease. It wasn’t the tone of someone who had resigned themselves to a powerless fate.

 

Calun didn’t give it much thought, but the next day, Venice Ermius had gone missing.

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