11. Passing Ships in the Night (4)
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The dining room, despite the short notice given to the servants, had been immaculately prepared in such a short time; the candlelight and flowers lining the long table served as a pleasant distraction from the heavy silence permeating the dinner table as the group awaited their food to be served.

Layton, sitting beside Olivia hadn't seemed to have let go of the day's earlier incident since the carriage ride. His green eyes narrowed at every single movement made at the table. Arabella swallowed slightly, fearing the scolding she would receive after this. Meanwhile, Olivia had a tight smile fixed on her lips as she tried to look anywhere but at Layton. Arabella's eyes shifted to the spot at the table, directly across from her, where Alistair seemed to be sitting none the wiser to the fact that he was currently the star of this show. Either that or he just didn't seem to care. She stared perplexed at the boy who seemed entranced by the dancing flames in the candles; the yellow flame reflecting in his violet eyes. 

As though he could sense her stare, Alistair's eyes flicked up in a split second to meet hers, startling the girl. Her lips straightened into a nervous line as he stared straight back at her before his lips curved into a small smile. Just how was he so calm right now?

The opening of the double doors wrenched the attention of the four away as the food finally made its arrival and before long, the table was completely set. Olivia seemed to perk up the slightest bit and brushed her warm brown locks behind her ear, offering an awkward smile to the table in a bid to salvage the atmosphere, "Everyone, please enjoy the meal!"

Arabella winced looking down at the food laid out before her. The knots in her stomach right now made eating an impossible task, but in order to keep up appearances she picked up her knife and fork regardless, subtly pushing the meal around the plate. To her relief, the sounds of scraping cutlery soon filled the empty silence of the room and it started to feel like an actual dinner scene at last. 

"...Is the meal that our staff prepared not to your liking?"

Arabella jumped at the cold sound of Layton's voice that sliced through the atmosphere like a knife. Afraid that she had been caught toying with her food like a child, she winced preparing to create an excuse only to pause upon the realisation that Layton's pointed glare was aimed not at her but at the seat across from her. She followed his line of sight to Alistair, who for the first time that day looked like a deer in headlights. She watched as Alistair who still had his hands rested in his lap beneath the table startled at the question, "...H-Huh?"

Unamused, Layton set down his knife and fork, opting instead to interlace his fingers under his chin while never removing his heavy stare, "You were the one who agreed to come to dinner, was it not? Have you suddenly lost your appetite or have we wasted a plate on you?" 

"Brother!" at his words, Olivia scolded Layton and narrowed her blue eyes at him. "He's our guest. Don't put him on the spot."

"He is your guest. I had no say in the matter." Layton finished, not even sparing her a glance. 

In the middle of their argument, Arabella took notice of Alistair's slightly shell-shocked expression. An air of anxiety encompassed his wide violet eyes as he stared unblinkingly and distrustingly at the glass and plate of food laid out before him. He opened his mouth as though to say something but seemed to opt against it, swallowing nervously. And as Arabella watched him, she was suddenly reminded of a familiar image. The moonlit romantic dinner scene laid out in the palace garden she had found, tainted by a white-haired corpse, the distinct memory of a face that looked as though it was still seeking desperate final gasps for air despite its eery stillness, forever frozen in torment. And the spilt glass laying at his feet.

"Hey."

The sound of her voice seemed to snap Alistair out of his trance and he looked up at her, eyes still wide. With a heavy sigh, Arabella stood and leaned across the table pinching at a vegetable from his plate and tossing it into her mouth with her bare fingers. To the bewilderment of her siblings, she then made a reach for his glass taking a long and hearty sip at the juice before wiping at her lips. The knots in her stomach only worsened at her impetuous actions but as an act of goodwill, she triumphed through her stomach pains to stare Alistair straight in the eye. His anxious expression seemed to have dissolved away into a look of astonishment instead, causing her to sigh in slight relief. "It tastes good. You should have no issue with the taste, even if you're not used to it."

"Arabella!"

The girl winced and jumped back into her seat at the cries of surprise from both her older siblings as she prepared for the most embarrassing scolding she could receive in front of a guest. Of course, Layton was the first to speak his mind, through his disbelief, "...Arabella. Has it really been so long without your governess that you've forgotten common courtesy?"

"As much as I hate to agree, I believe you owe an apology to this young man..." Olivia's disapproving tone was accompanied by an equally disapproving glance. 

Arabella clenched her teeth slightly, reminded immediately of the many times in the past she had been scolded like this. Worse was the reminder that she hadn't quite raised above her old self since it took biting her tongue not to snark back and cause an argument. Regardless, she sucked up her pride and muttered, "...Please forgive me for my impertinence..."

Alistair hadn't removed his gaze from her since her outburst, but gave a long contemplative look to the food on his plate, "There's nothing to forgive." As though it was second nature to him, he slowly picked up his cutlery and took a slow and hesitant bite of his food. "...You're right. It is good." And as though nothing had happened at all, he was suddenly back to his smiling self, sending a charming look Olivia's way. "My compliments to the chef." He then directed his courteous smile Layton's way. "I am impressed that you organised such an extravagant dinner on such short notice, Lord Lockhart."

Alistair's skill for controlling the atmosphere of the room didn't go unnoticed by Arabella. Olivia seemed to have finally perked up at the return of a conversation partner and even Layton seemed slightly chuffed at the compliment to his planning skills, taking a disgruntled sip of wine. 

Olivia grinned back at him, "Your table manners are excellent for your age, Al. Who taught you?"

"My mother. She was very particular that even as a commoner I would be taught such manners." Alistair smiled back with an honest look of pride in his eyes. "She left me with that much, so I am grateful that you noticed."

Olivia seemed to catch on to his wording and her brows furrowed the slightest bit, "She 'left' you, with that much?"

"She passed around a week ago."

Arabella felt her movements freeze involuntarily at his words and she was not alone. Just like that, silence returned to the dining room tenfold. 

Olivia's lips settled into a frown, brows furrowing even further, "...I apologise for bringing up the topic..." She paused in contemplation before raising a question. "Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?"

"I've been fending for myself quite well, since. So not necessarily."

Layton's hard gaze seemed to soften slightly, despite the firm frown cemented on his lips upon hearing this, "...There is an orphanage in town funded by the Lockharts. I can have you lodged there even on short notice-"

"With all due respect," Alistair's calm expression didn't seem to match his serious tone. "If I had any intention of going to the orphanage, I would have been there already."

Arabella eyed him carefully, a feeling of conflicted emotion brewing within her that she pushed down in the back of her mind. She had a sense she knew where he was going with this. Though, his methods of doing so did not bode well with her. Sucking down her feelings she spoke bluntly, "If you have nowhere to go... Then stay here for the time being."

Paying no mind to the shocked but conflicted expression on Olivia's face, Arabella let her stare linger on Alistair for a long while. From her tone, it was clear she was dead serious. Surprisingly, Layton himself seemed to sense that and hadn't settled into a firm objection just yet. Alistair met her stare head-on, confused by the conflicted light in Arabella's eyes. She wondered if he was lying. Perhaps he had heard about their father's recent passing and was making things up, knowing it would pull on their heartstrings with the similarities in their stories. Silently, she hoped that it wasn't the case, because undoubtedly it had worked as evidenced by how her heart clenched at his words. 

Unable to look at him any longer with that thought in her mind, Arabella instead let her gaze fall to her plate, "...I'm sure that would be fine for a little while, wouldn't it, brother?"

Layton's long bout of silence was louder than words. The mere fact he hadn't shut down the conversation was a miracle in itself. But after a moment of silent contemplation, he signalled for the butler to approach him with a wave of his hand, "Prepare a room suitable for our guest. Something that should suffice for the night."


Upon opening his room door at the sound of two knocks in the dead of the night, Alistair sighed in relief when he was face to face with a blank-faced Arabella, "I was wondering when you would show up." Despite his comment, she acted as though she hadn't heard him, casually pushing past him to enter the room. He raised a brow at her silence. Somehow, the blank expression on the girl's face was making him uneasy, so he resorted to his usual ramblings to fill the silence with an unsure expression. "I don't even remember the last time I slept somewhere this nice. Hundreds of rooms in that palace and what a coincidence, they shoved me into the wing that had been in disrepair for years... It was smart though. Made it clear that I was unwelcome..."

Arabella wasn't even listening to a word Alistair had to say, mind raking through his words over dinner. She frowned to herself, unbeknownst to her making Alistair slightly relieved that she had finally shown some form of expression. Though that didn't quell his worries at her lingering silence. Giving an awkward cough, he shyly rubbed the back of his neck speaking earnestly, "I apologise for making you embarrass yourself for me earlier. But know that I'm... very grateful. These days I don't touch anything I haven't prepared for myself..."

Alistair nearly jumped out of his skin when Arabella faced him with a cold stare. Her look was enough to shut him up as she searched for the right words, "...If what you said at the table earlier was a lie, it was a filthy lie to make." Her eyes darkened slightly, her tone growing into one of warning. "Do not use things like that against me. Especially not against my family, you went too far." At Alistair's wide-eyed silence, her eyes narrowed, pointing an accusatory look his way. "You knew about my father's death, didn't you? And you used it as a ploy to get what you wanted."

Stupified, Alistair stared back at her, unaffected now by her sharp glare. Arabella felt her teeth begin to grind at how insistent he was to remain quiet even as she was accusing him. 

"It wasn't a lie."

Eyes widening, Arabella's sharp gaze faltered. Alistair simply frowned and shrugged his shoulders while avoiding her gaze. "It sounds implausible, doesn't it? Both of us were orphaned within the same week. But I'm telling the truth. I didn't use it as a ploy."

Still stunned, Arabella struggled to speak out her next words, "B-But... you were in Nyotari."

The white-haired boy's expression couldn't have become more avoidant if he had tried. The silence that followed was almost deafening, as Alistair was the one who stewed in his thoughts. With the moonlight reflecting his thoughtful expression, there was a sense of melancholy that seemed to be revealed in it. Finally, he sighed and raised a hand to scratch at his cheek, "I already said it had nothing to do with this. But if you're so insistent, I was in Nyotari because it was where my mother wanted to be buried." It took an active effort on his part to force his eyes back to meet Arabella's but there was a pure-hearted honesty in his words that could be felt. "That's it. I told the truth. It's up to you if you want to believe me."

Arabella suddenly felt filled to the brim with shame. Her lips tightened into a straight line and her brows furrowed guiltily. She moved over to the bed not far from her to sit and process what he had told her, but even then all she could utter was shameful, "...oh." Yet again she had overreacted and made something bad out of nothing. Yet again she had proven to herself that she wasn't all that different from the impulsive girl hanging by a rope. She opened her mouth but failed to find the words for an apology. She sighed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by emotion and uttered, "...It's strange, isn't it. Having to go through mourning a second time for the same person."

She had noticed a running theme lately of her opening her mouth without properly thinking about what she was saying. Feeling the bed dip while she mulled through her thoughts, Arabella jumped slightly only to find that to her surprise, Alistair had taken a seat beside her. He was seated comfortably, one leg crossed over the other and supporting his weight with an arm resting on the bed behind him. With a bittersweet smile, he spoke, "... I'm grateful for it. It finally let me have some sort of closure... I wasn't able to fulfil that wish for her last time, I didn't have enough money. But now that I don't have any reason to stick around there... Why not dish out every last saving we had to fulfil it?"

Feeling her heart clench again, Arabella bit her lip slightly to hide her touched expression. That slightly melancholic and poignant expression... She hadn't seen him make such a face since that time on the balcony. Despite her best efforts, her eyes softened making eye contact with him and stunning Alistair to silence, "...I'm glad that you managed to have a proper send-off. Your mother raised you well..."

Alistair's ears turned a magnificent pink at the compliment, unable to tear himself away from staring into Arabella's softening blue eyes. Quickly, he ripped his gaze away and towards the ground once more, an awkward toothy grin gracing his features as he laughed it off, "Ha! Come on, don't talk to me like I'm an actual kid now. I'm 17 inside, remember?"

Arabella's blue eyes hardened in an instant as she was reminded again. She had almost forgotten that he had died a whole year before her. It was funny how such an innocent comment could drag her back to reality. She had completely forgotten about her original intention of coming here to discuss her plan, getting swept up in her emotions. But now... She was suddenly feeling far too sentimental to do it. 

Getting up from the bed, a small smile graced her lips as she prepared to make her leave, "There's a poem I remember reading. But on account of our return to the past, I'm assuming it is yet to be written. Regardless, it stuck with me." Alistair looked up at her in intrigue as she continued with a thoughtful look. "It likened people to ships that pass in the night."

Staring up at her, now with a raised brow, Alistair tilted his head slightly to the side, "Strange metaphor. What does that have to do with anything?"

Arabella opened her mouth but actively made the choice to hold her tongue this time, hiding an embarrassed murmur behind her hand, "It... It doesn't matter. It was just something that came to mind." Finally, she smiled and made her leave. "Good Night."

As she walked back to her room among the spiralling halls of the manor, Arabella finally let her emotions show with an exaggerated sigh of relief. Perhaps she had gotten too sentimental back there. What was she thinking, reciting poetry to him? Let alone a poem with romantic context, even if she hadn't interpreted it in such a way? Her common sense had prevailed in this one instance. 

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