Midnight's Song (20 page)

“I am Celeste Devereaux,”
I pleasantly but wearily returned. He tipped his hat to me warmly
as if we were truly both meeting for the first time. Winston
suddenly shifted on the path and began to lead me toward the house
where my relatives were waiting eagerly by the windows.

Though, something didn’t quite feel
right. A feeling of odd superficiality began to overwhelm me; but I
held my tongue. I’d caused enough strife today as it was. Saying
anything else may have been just as useful as smashing my head into
a brick wall. The argument hadn’t been constructive at all, so it
would have seemed to have been better off ending when it did. Yet,
I still felt a sense of discontentment at how it had turned out. It
almost felt like Winston had deterred me before it could have been
resolved. He was obviously deeper than the other suitors…but there
was still something clearly staunch about him nonetheless. In a
way, I just gave up and settled with the turn-out; not paying any
attention to how it might influence my future.

When we came within sight of the
windows, Winston suddenly unhooked his arm from mine. I could see
the prying silhouettes of my relatives peering at the windows while
we neared closer to the house – and obviously Winston could as
well. Whatever his intention was for me; he wanted to make a scene
for them. After he unhooked his arm from mine I quickly found
myself spinning around in his grasp.

After he spun me around,
we awkwardly embraced. If I would have looked at the window in that
moment, I’m sure that I would have seen at least one of my
relatives jumping up and down.

“Winston, what are you
doing?” I asked him, slightly appalled.

“If we are to court
each other, we might as well make it a show. I like you…you’ll soon
like me; and everyone around us will be happy.” He took me by the
hand and wouldn’t let go. “Remember your side of the deal. You must
accept my invitation,
and
you owe me a favor. This is your favor: act only
positively for your family today. Aid me in winning them
over.”

When I opened my
mouth to protest this game, he hushed me. We exaggeratedly walked
hand-in-hand, in plain view of the family. It appeared to them that
we were the perfect couple – and if I hadn’t regretted it before, I
certainly regretted my passiveness now. They insisted that the
choice would always be in my hands, but I was a pawn in a bigger
game now. Winston was a 2
^nd
caste, and he was a
persistent 2
^nd
caste.

We may have looked like
the perfect match to everyone else. Perhaps it even caused Stella
some jealousy. But, this reality was only a feeling forced onto me
by someone else. As I sat down over our candlelit banquet that
night; I realized that this picture of my destiny was a game of
smoke and mirrors.

“Dearest Devereaux family,
I thank you for your hospitality.” Winston chimed his knife against
a wine glass and stood. “I understand that many suitors have graced
this mansion – none with very serious intentions. I have made up my
mind and would like to ask for your approval about a
matter.”

Grandmamma had been
sitting in her wheelchair at the head of the table the entire time,
and she suddenly lit.

“Get on with it,” she
clapped.

“I have a deep affection for your
Celeste. Therefore I propose a deepening of our relationship. With
your blessing, I would like to return to your manor and formally
pursue your ward.”

Wren’s eyes widened. Beeti
moved backward, reddening but remaining silent. Her daughter acted
similarly – refusing to make eye contact with anyone as she angrily
stabbed her meat with a fork.

“Do you mean – to actually court her?”
Wren gasped.

“Yes, and with the most serious and
proper intentions.”

My heart was
pounding. I had no idea what to think of Winston now.
This
was the result of
our bet? That sly little... I opened my mouth but was unable to
utter a sound.

“Oh, that sounds absolutely
wonderful!” Grandmamma lit. “You have my full approval!”

“That is wonderful!”
Winston chimed, quickly directing his eyes at me. “But first, I
must ask Celeste. Celeste, would you welcome me back into your
home?”

I bit my lower lip and
fiddled with my hands beneath the table. What else could I say,
with all of their eyes fixed on me in a prodding stare? It was a
moment of complete entrapment; feeling completely belittled at the
answer which was being forced out of me in a reluctant
sigh.

“Of course.”

After the encounter
with Rhys,
there wasn’t much I could have
done to stop it from happening. Even when Rhys tried to make it
seem as if he had no interest – even when he was certain that
keeping his distance would somehow fool his brother Faolan into
thinking that I meant very little to him – it was to no avail. The
person that he was running from could see more than Rhys wanted to
believe that he could. There was no true way to hide from him, yet
Rhys still believed that he could flee.

For, you see – Rhys wasn’t his real
name. It was an identity conjured up in what he felt was his
weakness. His real name was of princely origins; meaning “golden.”
But, he couldn’t harbor that title anymore. So he chose a name that
had a meaning far from it. It was fitting for who he was now –
because the name Rhys means “running.”

After he had disappeared,
there was another mysterious figure whose sight I came into. From
the very moment I saw the boy there would be no escape. It began at
our first encounter.

Originally, he had only
searched the looking glass for his brother. Then, I came into view.
Dancing about the garden and singing toward the sky while his
fugitive brother crouched in the bushes watching me dumbfounded
from afar; his brother Faolan suddenly realized
something:

“
Crystal seas and crimson
moon,

Blood-red roses and lives
anew

Where the scarlet lilies
bloom

Under the midnight
sky…”

When the runaway came to
my aid, Faolan looked at the two of us and saw something in his
brother that he recognized something that only his kind and a few
others could truly foretell the nature of…one that almost certainly
meant that there was going to be great passion. That made me his
prime target.

“Go into the mortal
world,” he commissioned his servant. “Keep an eye on the girl. When
I tell you, bring her to me.”

The servant bowed before
the King as he opened one of the last, withering portals to our
world. For months after that, the servant heeded his instructions
and strange things happened all around which baffled and plagued
me.

Every night after
that, my dreams grew stranger. They soon turned into writhing
nightmares. They came into my mind at Faolan’s hands as he silently
manipulated me from afar. This
other
world
would soon become entwined with mine
as a boa with its prey.

“So, this is the woman
with my brother’s heart?” Faolan mused, carefully placing a
nightmare in my head one night.

This time he had come to
see me in person, eerily hovering over me as I slept. The light in
the room was dim and the moon full, illuminating my features in a
strange way. I was pretty for a mortal, no doubt. The creature
inspected me, taking a strand of my hair and examining it before
carelessly flicking it away. He whispered into my ear.

“Let him become infatuated
with you, and let him fall prey to my games. You’ll be the one who
brings him to me.”

The nightmare in my mind
heightened in intensity. The evil in his presence caused a deep
disturbance in my soul, jolting me awake. I looked over at the side
of my bed – unaware of who Faolan even was, let alone the fact that
I was looking at the very place he had just been standing – and saw
that I was alone. In those few seconds, he had vanished from sight;
and there was no one there.

I would go back to sleep
that night, unaware of what was conspiring around me. But soon, I
would be made fully aware of it all. Rhys was still running – but
he wouldn’t be able to do so much longer. The one he was running
from knew where he was and would stop at nothing until he was
dead.

Part Three:

◊

Blood-Red Roses

I fell to the ground in a
thud. I the most intense moment, the flames had disappeared from my
sight and become the subtle harmlessness of my bedroom floor. I
opened my eyes and cautiously gazed around. It was dark of course,
but there was no danger. I tried to sit up – but was soon halted
when I realized that my entire body was tangled in a jumble of
sheets on the floor. I surely wouldn’t have to groggily free myself
from them alone; for I could already hear Emily’s footsteps
approaching.

“Elissa, are you alright?” She called
to me, flinging the door open and flipping the switch right beside
her on the wall. My room filled with dim light as the gas lamps
that lined my walls each dimly flickered their ways on.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I
groggily recollected, placing a hand on my forehead. “Oh gosh – not
again. This headache is killing me!”

“You need sleep. It’s 4:45
in the morning,” she pulled the covers out of the wad of blankets
and flattened them out, motioning for me to return to
bed.

“Please, don’t. I’m up
now…” I sighed, “There’s no use going back to bed. I’ll only be
troubled by another nightmare anyway.”

“Nightmares!” Emily interjected in
concern, “You’ve been having them one-after-another for nearly a
week now!”

“I know,” I coolly
replied.

She helped me back up,
still dressed in her nightgown herself. I had been troubled by
these hellish dreams so often now that Emily was sleeping in the
guest room beside mine. Waking up every night with blood-curdling
screams, my family was so weary that they were willing to let Emily
stay in the main part of the house. In order to keep up
appearances, they attempted to hide the fits from Winston as much
as possible.

“Tell me,” I posed as she
placed me before my tremendous closet, trying to decipher the
silhouettes of my dresses against the flickering gas lamp. “What is
today?”

“It’s the
18
^th
,”
she quickly replied.

“
The 18
^th
…”
I muttered aloud. Oh, that’s right, I remembered now.
“Winston is leaving.”

I could finally breathe
again. In light of his “feelings” Winston had extended his stay.
Even though I had told him I wasn’t ready for an engagement, every
one of our meetings now was filled with small gestures and
not-so-innocent hints that he intended to make me his wife when he
returned to us.

“What should you like to wear for your
farewell today?” Emily asked, clearly groggy but still attempting
to sound like her lively self.

I let out a huff. I wasn’t quite awake
yet either. “I don’t care. You choose.”

She quickly reached in and pulled out
a blue satin dress with lacy sleeves and slipped it over my head.
Seemed a bit formal, but I knew that it was only because Emily was
probably trying to pick a dress that would suitably make-up for the
lack of life in my weary, sleep-deprived expression.

“You look like an angel today my
dear!” Emily quietly told me as I stood before the long mirror
against my bedroom wall.

“Please don’t attempt to
flatter me about my appearance, Emily.” I half-heartedly told her,
clearly a bit grumpy. “I know I look like a complete wreck in the
face. Look at the bags under my eyes!”

“I know, I know. But you’re still very
pretty,” she sighed. “I know many girls who’d give their souls to
look like you.”

“I surely hope
not.”

“No, but honestly – if
you’re that worried about your bags, I do have a remedy down in the
kitchen that can fix that,” she told me. “We servant girls have had
to go without sleep for many centuries. If you’re quiet, I’ll take
you down now. Follow me.”

I nodded, and we both took
off. When I entered, the servants were bustling through every
doorway and rummaging through every cabinet in a hectic rush. They
didn’t pay much attention to me anymore, even allowing me to visit
casually. They knew I wouldn’t speak badly of them – actually, they
knew I wouldn’t speak about my escapades here at all. I was one of
them, and they were like me. I kept quiet, and so did
they.

“Haley, where is the jar of
cocoa-ash?” Emily asked the chef from behind as she rummaged
through one of the cabinets.

“Bottom drawer,” she
mumbled, busy whisking a bowl of eggs against the crook of her
elbow.

Emily reached for the
drawer, quickly placing her hand on a large round jar and holding
it up as if it were the world’s most expensive prize. She popped
open the lid and placed two fingers into the strange, creamy
mixture it contained.