Francis tracked the sight-line of Kanari, while his heart pumped to know what could have scared her. His lips formed a wide curve against his will, as he watched the young girl's nervousness grew with each approaching step from someone he couldn't see, but he could feel his presence.
He watched as the stress ate the young girl to the point that she shifted her eyes away, left and right, to avoid looking directly at the approaching individual.
Francis' curiosity got the better of him and decided to stay till he finds out the person who could generate all these rich facial expressions from a young girl.
His eyes smiled when he caught the glimpse of a black fabric toyed by the breeze, then followed by long black hair. Thus, his entertained face turned serious at the notion that he was wrong about whom he was expecting.
When Lady Akila profile emerged and landed on his purview, the Count closed his eyes and mumbled to himself in a way to validate his judgment: ¨ It must be love, it must be the endless battles between the infatuated young girls and their delusional mothers about whom they should or shouldn't fall in love with. ¨ and when he opened his eyes to the scene, he got stabbed by the pair of pale yellow eyes glaring in his direction. Apparently, Lady Akila sensed the presence of someone spying on them.
In swift intuitive reaction, Francis pulled away from the window while commenting in shock about her incredible, keen senses. He stood looking back at the frame of the window and felt a strong need to close its curtains. But, by doing, so he will only prove her right.
This moment was when his mind returned from the short recess, he badly needed, to the reality. He remembered that he is far from his stronghold, alone in distant lands, surrounded by flesh eating monsters who like to take the shape of harmless, docile human, for the sake of amusement and deceit. And his only allies are a demon Chimera who will never do something for free and an unfaithful thought to be a friend whom he has tormented for those few past months. Furthermore, Lundein's news about his shares being taken by the Di Nobilis aren't helping his mood.
Francis took a deep breath and wanted to empty not just one bottle. In his state of stupor, he heard an annoying voice coming from the entrance: ¨ No, not this perfectly carved art piece of two hundred years ¨.
The Count observed the nearly empty bottle and the wine-glass on the cover of the grand piano. Then, instantly understood Nicolai complain. However, he didn't say anything, his thoughts were still crammed by the monster outside and on how he is going to smooth his present grim situation, knowing that the protective barrier expiration day is approaching.
After he took off the bottle and the glass in his hands, Nicolai wondered about the silent disposition the Count had adopted. He checked the bottle in his hand by bringing it closer, near his face, confirming what the Count was drinking. And Nicolai knew exactly when Francis enjoys getting himself lost in the unconscious state of insobriety. It's certainly not for the pleasure.
He said provoking him: "Is that mean that I can use your tea sets collection to have a drink? ". This question was also to evaluate the degree of the Count drunkenness, if Nicolai was a bit lucky he may demand more.
When Nicolai didn't get a harsh reproof, he was ready to formulate other questions, other deep questions. However, he was a little taken aback as he saw the Count's eyes preoccupied by the window frame in trance. Curious about it, he immediately observed the frame for any peculiar things, the sash, curtains, even the floor below. As soon as he looked at the opened part, the light coming in, hurt his eyes and numbed his skin, hence, he proceeded to close the curtains.
" Wait!…"
Nicolai was startled…
"Keep it overt."
Before Nicolai got his chance to retreat, he briefly outlined two black figures in the garden. Then he purposely commented:
"It seems that your dear guests act as if they own the house."
Then he watched as the Count took the bottle and filled one of the glass before he offered it to him, He accepted it automatically because his head was searching for an explanation about the Count strange attitude. Was it the effect of the drink?
¨ Isn't this their territory in the first place?.¨ The Count noted before, he emptied what was left in the bottle, in one go. Meanwhile, Nicolai brought the glass next to his nose to smell the strong alcoholic fragrance. It was mixed with the metallic iron odor. He twisted the corner of his mouth in displeasure then responded:
" Do you really wish to return the Farm to the Crocotta's clan without any fight? "
The Count balanced the bottle on the floor before he declared. His voice was distracted as if he was straightening himself from a certain fall: "Didn't I tell you from the start?... You didn't believe me?... That so heartless…" Then he kicked the bottle with his foot, the kick wasn't powerful, yet sufficient to drop the bottles on the floor and break it. Shattered glass spread all over the place.
Nicolai remembered the last conversation he had with Francis, and how the later strove with outermost carefulness to keep his true objective ambiguous… And now, the Count is being awfully honest. Sometimes the effects of the alcoholic drinks on certain people are magical.
But in Nicolai's eyes there was a lost loop on all this too good to be true situation, he wondered what made Francis wasted carelessly like this? He looked at the window and attributed the reason to not just the effect of the alcohol. Maybe Akila finally bared her teeth to the display. Did her forbearance sell out, and she wanted to take everything by force? Thus, he decided to fetch more answers from him:
" Did something happen?"
" You don't want to drink with me?" The count pointed to the full glass in Nicolai hand.
" My head is killing me."
" This is another reason to drink."
" Francis… what's wrong? " Nicolai was puzzled, he knows that Francis won't get himself into this pitiful state of drunkenness unless he was absolutely desperate. And he sincerely needed to stop thinking about what caused him to enter this state. But, if he wished to let go of the farm without a fight, there was no reason for him to get… drunk. Except, the cause, the real cause behind his distress wasn't the farm… thus he pestered more: " What's wrong?"
Francis's eyes were half-open, ready to enter into a deep sleep. He supported his weight on the Piano and said while watching Nicolai grimace:
" Did you know, Seaben gave me a visit a while ago. He proposed a tempting offer."
" Another Deal?" Nicolai's voice was cold.
" Yes, exactly, since our first deal will end with the handover of the farm to the Crocotta… in the next few days."
It was the first time Nicolai has heard about the content of the deal, yet he chose to stay silent and wait.
" He offered me another deal… did you know what he has demanded in return?"
" What did he demand? "
The Count burst with a laugh, he hardly could make his voice intelligible: ¨ y… your… life, he wants your life.¨ the Count tried to hold his laughter without success… after the passage of this hysteric wave of laughing he resumed:
" He really hates you, what did you do to him so that he could hold all this grudge against you…" Francis tried to collect himself before he continued:
" I won't lie, watching the cold fight between the two of you was truly entertaining. But I must confess, you were more dignified and subtle than him. If it wasn't for me… the balance..."
The count stopped when he didn't get the reaction he wanted from his old friend, the neutral expression made the Count rifled, therefor he asked provoking:
" Who was going to be the winner between the two of you, if it weren't for my interference? "
¨ Me.¨ Nicolai answered, drawing an end to this barren conversation.
After that, The drunk Count pursed his lips together without uttering another word. In a way that he appeared that he did agree with his ex-friend, but refuse to admit it openly.
In the few seconds, the music room sank in the isolation of the silence, Nicolai took the opportunity and tasted the crimson liquid from the glass, before he breached this quietness with a question:
" Did you accept?"
" ... "
" Did you accept his proposal?"
" Oh!… Yes, I did."
