Tomorrow's Shadow - 7. Emotions Set To Simmer

“You did WHAT?” Stefano’s ebony eyes flashed as he glared at his sire and slammed his fists on piano keys. “What do you mean, you cancelled it because of ME? How dare you blame your indecision on me. I did not ask or even imply that I didn’t want you to marry.” He stood and stepped towards Vargon. Fury stormed within him as he swung his arm, hitting and breaking the piano lid support. The lid slammed closed, causing all the strings to vibrate in soft discord. A long shard of wood flew across the distance toward Vargon, falling to the floor inches from his feet.

“That is more than enough”, Vargon replied calmly. He stood in front of the fireplace, holding an almost-empty glass of blood-wyne. Though his demeanor appeared calm and his voice was lowered, it still resonated within the great hall, reminiscent of thunder chasing a lightning crash. Stefano could not avoid noticing how the tone in Vargon’s voice was belied by the softness of the volume. “You will not speak to me in such a manner again, under penalty of death. Chylde you may be, but I am still your Sire and your Prince and you will treat me as such.

Stefano flinched at the mastery in Vargon’s voice. Angry tears threatened his eyes; he struggled to hold them back, refusing to look more the chylde. “I am sor…”

“I have not asked you to speak, young one.” The threat in Vargon’s voice held steady. “You would be wise to hold your tongue until I permit otherwise.”

Stefano opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and closed it again. He bowed his head slightly then nodded, finally standing quiet before the elder kindred. His eyes radiated pure anguish, yet he remained silent, his hands clasped before him in submission.

Viktor pursed his lips in thought. He looks every bit the petulant offspring.

Vargon continued, his voice still stern. “Until now, I had thought Viktor speaking of your temper was an exaggeration or misunderstanding. I can see now that wasn’t the case.”

Stefano turned, fixing his gaze on his manservant, then released it back to his sire.

“Yes, Viktor spoke to me of it. I asked him if there were anything amiss because I was feeling torment regarding you. So you can discard any ideas you may have of berating him, as he was doing as was asked of him. You will not chastise for truth and honesty, is that understood?”

Stefano nodded his head. He glimpsed at Viktor and mouthed the word “sorry” before returning his attention to Vargon.

“Good.” The word was gentle - all threat gone.

Stefano visibly relaxed when he heard the change in tone.

“Apparently you do not feel our bond as I do or you might have noticed my concern over you. But there is nothing to be done about that. You will feel as you feel. What you will not do is
allow those feelings to cause you to forget the very rules I have taught you. It appears we need to review them. Again.” The air was ripe with his disappointment. “As the oldest kindred in the area, indeed the first to settle here, I am Prince of the region. As such all our kind owe deference to me. This would include my own chylde. If you continue on this course of insolence, I shall be forced to discipline you. To the fullest of my ability.” He drew a slow breath. “If necessary I can have my chair brought here and you can spend time in reverence before me as I drill these facts into your head.” He waited for what seemed an eternity to Stefano before he concluded, “Now then, what does my chylde … my one chylde … have to say?”

The dam burst. Tears trickled down Stefano’s face as he shuddered. “I … am so sorry, Sire. I have never wanted to disrespect – to treat you as I just did. There are times of late when the fire of fury builds within me beyond measure. I have had need to forego feeding until I can control it. I understand this is no excuse, my father, but it is the truth. I still lose control. I don’t know why.” Stefano gained some of his composure. “When you said you were thinking of being married, it started. An anger I could put no name to or reason for. I thought I had managed to lock it away, but just now, as you spoke of prolonging or cancelling the wedding, I … snapped. I am so sorry.” He turned to Viktor. “And you, most devoted servant and trusted friend, for you I can find no words. I have spoken to you as a man doesn’t deem to speak to a dog. Yet you have taken all in stride, quietly, always giving me your allegiance. As I should be doing with my Sire. As I need to do. I deeply regret those words.”

Viktor bowed his head slightly, his eyes calm, his whole being emanating peace.

Stefano’s voice caught slightly as he turned back to Vargon. “I stand before you as a servant, my Prince, and I stand before you as a chylde, my Sire. There are no words adequate to remove what I have done. I can only ask for your mercy, and trust in your love.”

Viktor paused in his duties as Vargon stepped forward, approaching Stefano. His mind was torn between allegiance to one and loyalty to the other, but he knew if necessary, he would stand with Master Vargon.

The anguish in Stefano’s eyes mixed with sorrow and hope as Vargon stepped before him.

Vargon paused and studied his chylde’s face, then kissed his cheek and wrapped his arms around him. “You are forgiven, my chylde, my son. I am proud of you.”

Stefano returned the embrace, releasing only when Vargon did. “Thank you. Sire – Father, may we discuss why you have stopped your marriage to … forgive me, I have forgotten the lady’s name.”

Vargon steered his chylde to the bar where Viktor already had two glasses of blood-wyne. “Odessa Stalway. And yes, I will always discuss life with you, Stefano.”

Stefano took a couple sips of his wyne before unleashing his questions. “How did she handle the news? Has she ended the relationship? Does she know of you? Do you need to bring her across before you can be married?” He stopped and grinned. “I’m sorry – I guess I have a few things to talk about.”

Vargon laughed softly, to Stefano the sound of symphony and joy. One of the servants stepped out from the kitchen, tapped Viktor’s shoulder, then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. Viktor bowed his head briefly to Vargon, then turned and followed the servant into the kitchens.

Vargon noticed him leaving before returning to the conversation. “First, she reacted as one would expect a lady to react. With complete composure, though her eyes brewed storms I may hear of for ages to come. No, she has not left, we are still intent on being wed, it just has been postponed for a while. And before you ask, no we have not determined for how long – it is good enough to know we will be married.”

Stefano stepped behind the bar to get the opened wyne bottle, then refilled their glasses. “I am glad to hear your relationship has not been terminated.” He stepped back around to sit. “So am I.” Again a chuckle. “Odessa is widowed, no children, her parents gone many years already, so she is alone in life. I shall be able to end that. Now, about what she knows and what will happen… No, she is not aware of who I am. As you know, a kindred does not reveal himself or herself to a mortal. To that end, yes – I will need to bring her across before we can be married. As she has no family or real friends, I doubt her absence from society will raise even one brow. I believe you will like her, my son. She is almost as tall as you, long fire-red hair and dancing emerald eyes. Humor and joy flow through her in torrents, and I am lost in her presence.”

“I look forward to meeting her, Sire.” Stefano’s attention was turned to the door to the kitchens as Viktor returned.

The manservant’s eyes shone with concern as he gazed back and forth between Vargon and Stefano. His gaze finally rested on the younger kindred. “M’Lord, as ye are most likely aware, news travels quickly among servants. This is equally true, to an extent, with servants of different houses.” He paused to gauge Stefano’s demeanor before continuing. “There is word from the House of Falow. It seems there has been an accident; young Gerik has fallen on the stairs of his father’s house. He was taken to Doctor’s Row, but there is no other information. My impression is nothing … fatal … has happened otherwise the servants at Falow’s would have been apprised by now.”

Stefano stood, knocking over his glass. Vargon reached out and placed a hand on Stefano’s shoulder.

“Easy, chylde. Think things through. If you suddenly appear at the Row, there will be talk. Much more than you should want. Or Master Gerik.”

Stefano nodded and sat back down as Viktor replaced the glass. “But I need to know, Sire. How am I to learn if I do not go?”

Viktor replied quietly, “The servants will keep the news flowing. We shall know shortly after Falow’s servants, if there is anything to report.”

Stefano shook his head, standing once again.

“Chylde, it is a time for patience.”

Stefano looked between the men, his eyes once again filling with tears. “How can I wait?” He paused a moment, weighing his words. “I love him.”

Viktor spoke gently from his side. "All things in time, you have another open house with the village in two eves and there are things to prepare for."

Stefano sighed and bowed his head, swirling his drink with a finger.

------------

The open house went on as planned, much to the skill of Viktor.

Stefano watched the people mill around the great hall, chatting, laughing, all the “polite society” trappings. The few smokers were outside on the balcony, something the lord of the house insisted on. There was also a tub near the rail about half way down the balcony half filled with water that was to be used as the “ashtray”. Any smoker that didn’t use it for the end of their cigarettes would find themselves on the outside at any further events at Haven. He slid his glass across the bar to let Viktor fill it and asked again the question that had been bothering him all evening. “Why am I allowing these empty-headed, factitious buffoons to fill the air with their inane dissonance? You keep telling me Father requested it, but I don’t see him present.” He glanced around the room, eyes searching until they stopped on Gerik.

“Master Vargon simply said he wanted this event on this night. And so we are having it. He wanted all of the high houses of Atterstock present. And so they are.”

Stefano growled low, a sure sign his patience was wearing thin. He gave a slight nod in Gerik’s direction, sure he saw the corners of the man’s lips rise before turning back to a group of younger men from the mainland. Stefano set his glass down and stood, but was stopped from crossing the room as the footman opened the main door to allow the latest guests to enter. The evening’s Caller almost leapt from his chair as the two came into the room. He tugged at the vest of his uniform then tried his best to look official as the woman handed him a card. He glanced at the card, then looked across the room to announce the late arrivals. “Lord Vargon and Lady Odessa of the house Petrescu”. All sound slid away like tide from the beach as eyes locked on the attractive pair. Vargon wore his charcoal-colored formal wear. Odessa, his new bride, was in a mint-green gown which made her radiant emerald eyes shine. Her crimson hair was worn loose, which was the first thing the women from the mainland would have to hold against her. Most of the men, however, could not turn their gaze from the lovely yet demure redhead. This would be the second item for the women's gossip.

Stefano stood and gave his first smile of the evening. “This is great but pleasant surprise. I didn’t realize you were in the area.” His steps were quick but “correct for high society” as he crossed the distance to the couple. He bowed slightly as he took Odessa’s right hand. He lifted it and gave it a whisper of a kiss before releasing. His voice quieted a little as he watched the shadows deep in her pupils. “This would make sense out of Viktor’s insisting we hold this tonight. Is this the woman you have been speaking of so incessantly?”

Vargon smiled and nodded as the sound of chatter slowly increased. “Indeed. Odessa, this is my chylde, Stefano.”

Odessa smiled as she addressed him, also speaking gently. “I am glad to meet you, Stefano. Our sire speaks of you frequently. He’s really quite proud of you, though I’m not sure how often he says it. I find most men are oblivious to giving praise, which is odd since they all seem to need it.”

Stefano chuckled politely. “Actually, Odessa, he tells me often. I hold no concern over his affection for me. I trust he feels the same, as I am often in awe of his accomplishments.”

“You two sound like you’re at a royal wedding, all formal and nicely proper. Son-of-mine, get us some wine – my private stock. And try relaxing.”

“Right away, sir.” Stefano winked at Odessa then turned on his heel and headed for the bar.

“Now then, dear heart. Why don’t we claim a table – it looks like some further back are open.”

“I want to be close to the piano so I can watch as Stefano plays for us.”

Stefano walked up and gave each a glass. “Am I playing something tonight? First I’ve heard of it. Have I been volunteered?” His voice belied his happiness at seeing Vargon, though his dislike of the evening was finally fading into dust. He turned toward Odessa. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Haven is a large place, and my manservant keeps more than enough of practically everything on hand.”

A new voice joined the conversation from behind Stefano, sending goosebumps along his spine. “My lord, may I have a word?”

Stefano smiled and turned to address the new arrival. “Gerik, I’d like you to meet my friends, Lord Vargon and Lady Odessa Petrescu.”

Gerik smiled politely and turned to Vargon. “I am pleased to meet you, m’Lord and Lady. You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Stefano for a while?" He turned to Stefano, "That is of course, if you have time.”

Vargon responded first. "Would not mind a trifle, young sir. My wife and I are enjoying the atmosphere and awaiting Stefano’s piano performance.”

Stefano withheld a growl and spoke to Gerik. “Of course I have time for a friend. Shall we go to the bar?” The two men nodded to Vargon and Odessa, then headed for the bar. Their steps were casual; they spoke in hushed tones.

“I didn’t realize you were playing tonight. I will enjoy that.”

Stefano sighed softly. “I wasn’t planning on playing, but Odessa has requested it and as she and Vargon only recently married, I conceded.”

“I will enjoy it anyway.” Gerik gave Stefano a grin then turned to Viktor as they reached the bar. “I would like a cognac, Viktor.”

Stefano sat on a stool. “That sounds good. I’ll take a house cognac as well.”

Gerik remained standing, resting an arm on the bar. He leaned forward slightly before speaking. “I hoped we could have a … more private conversation.”

“We could go to the balcony; No one seems to congregate at the far side.”

“I would appreciate it.”

Stefano stood and took a sip of his drink. Again the men’s stride appeared relaxed and easy as they moved toward the door.

“I wish we had somewhere that we could be alone.”

“Any specific reason? Is your topic for discussion deeply personal?” Stefano arched a brow as they stepped out the door and headed for the deserted end of the balcony.

“I might have more than talking on my mind.”

“Indeed? You know I would not mind getting more personal with you, are you sure you are comfortable with the idea? And I am assuming the doctor has said your leg is fully healed.”

“My leg is fine. And you are right, I have been very unsure about us getting closer. But that feeling has diminished greatly over the past few weeks. I would not mind riding again to the other end of your island to spend more time alone in your company. Just no jumping this time.”

Stefano laughed softly. “That was not my idea. If you had not challenged me it might not have happened.” A glance around told him they were alone on the balcony. He softly brushed the back of his fingers down Gerik’s cheek. “Though I must admit I did not mind carrying you.”

Gerik shivered at the touch. “Your touch sets my skin ablaze and fills me with desire. Stef, I need to be with you.”

“Come look at the beach with me.”

“What?”

Stefano placed his hand on Gerik's shoulder to prod him towards the stone stairway. “Just come.”

As they descended the steps their pace quickened. Once at the bottom Stefano looked around again before heading for a heavy stone outcropping. “Follow.” It was almost a command. After a couple of turns they entered a clear area well out of sight from the balcony or anyone at sea. Gerik stepped in but stopped at the intense darkness. Stefano reached and pulled him close. Before he could form a word Stefano claimed his lips with his own. Passion flared in both men as the kiss became filled with heat. Gerik finally broke the embrace and looked deeply into Stefano’s eyes.

“You have enchanted me.”

“I thought enchanting was left to princesses or beautiful servant girls.”

“I thought as well, until now. This evening, as I watched you mingle with your guests, I couldn’t help but admire your poise. Your charm flows from you naturally; anyone blessed by it would believe they were your deepest friend.”

Stefano slipped his hands into Gerik’s hair and pulled him close until their foreheads were touching. “If my touch heightens your desire, your words along with your embrace are enough to drive a sane man over the edge.”

“As long as I go over with you, I won’t mind.” He renewed the kiss, grinding himself against Stefano as a low moan rose within him.

This time Stefano pulled back from their embrace. “We cannot … remain any longer. Your parents will surely notice you are gone, and you know those attention seekers in my home will want to vie for my presence.”

Gerik slid his fingertips down Stefano’s chest. “You are right, of course.” He paused before continuing. “Your skin is cool to the touch. I noticed it while you were carrying me but I thought perhaps it was just delusion caused by my injury.”

“I know.” Stefano sighed. “I am … blessed … with blood vessels that lie deeper than most others. I suppose that’s why I enjoy standing before a fire.”

Gerik stepped out of the opening. “So, you are saying you are thick skinned?” He laughed as he launched himself up the stone pathway, almost stumbling.

Stefano was close behind, also laughing. As they reached the balcony they slowed and calmed themselves before heading inside. Lord Falow turned to the doorway.

“At last. Where have the two of you been?”

Stefano spoke first. “My apologies, my friend. I took your son to see the small inlet at the bottom of the cliffs. It appears we lost track of time.”

Gerik looked at him, amazed at the speed and fluidity he could come up with an answer.

“Knowing his penchant for talking, I suppose that is a reasonable excuse. But now that you’re back, perhaps you can find the time to play for us.” All of the women within earshot filled the room with their gloved applause.

Stefano looked across the room and caught Vargon’s gaze and smirk. He wondered how many others had heard that he would be playing. Probably all of them, he thought. "Yes, of course. Let me get a fresh drink and we shall see what transpires.” He continued to muse as he moved to the bar. So what shall I play? Ever since joining with the shadows my mind often fills with dark ballads. I imagine anything will be acceptable. When he finally sat down and placed his glass to the side, the room became silent.

Anticipation filled the air like static charges. Stefano looked at his many guests, pausing when he saw Gerik. As he raised his hands to play his eyes closed. He began with violent chords, filling the room with masterful progressions. As he gradually brought down the volume he broke into a soft waltz.

A couple of minutes went by before Vargon stood and offered his hand to Odessa. When she rose he led her to the middle of the room. While people pressed back they began to dance. Their movements were graceful but there was no denying who led and who followed. Vargon’s presence flowed around them, causing many of the guests to watch. Gradually a few others joined in until several couples moved around the floor.

Stefano opened his eyes as he felt a change in the atmosphere. He watched the couples while his fingers performed their own dance across the keys. The room was alive with sound and music.

Viktor stood behind the bar and smiled. Finally. He has learned how to be himself in the presence of others. Master Vargon does know how to inspire.

Stefano finished his song and closed the lid over the keys. He picked up his glass then stood for a moment to more accolades before bowing slightly to the room. As he straightened, he searched in vain to find Gerik. In addition, he could not find Lord or Lady Falow. His eyes darkened as he headed for the bar. He did not leave without a farewell. He could not – would not be so thoughtless. Stefano put his glass down heavily, causing a crack up one side.

Viktor handed him a folded sheet of paper before swiftly disposing the glass and selecting a fresh one. He glanced at Vargon, his brow furrowed in worry. He needs to calm, m’Lord. I like not the look in his eyes.

Stefano read the note, his anger lessening slightly. He refolded the page and shoved it in a pocket. When he spoke, he barely looked at his guests. “My apologies, lords and ladies, but I need a few moments.” He walked to the balcony door and stepped out, closing it firmly. He grasped the rail with both hands and tried in vain to will himself to be calm.

I can wait no more. I want him - I need him here.