11 11. A Fool

Sommet du Ciel

It is engraved in beautiful cursive on a shiny gold plate at the gate pillar. The house, no– the mansion is a Second Empire styled with classic beige walls and large glass-paned windows out of which white curtains flung themselves out in a dramatic flurry, receding back in the same manner.

Surrounding it are rich green canopies of orchards; oranges, cherries, and strawberries, where only birds dared to scream their throat out loud. The maids are always on edge, scurrying about in small alert steps.

They are there, but then they are not.

I remember Maria rambling when she cleared up the bedroom while I dressed in the morning, that everyone here is a Beta and if anything, they would never get involved with the Alpha Nobles' Businesses.

Then she said something about his 'pippin taut arse'. Anyway, that is not important.

The point is that there is simply no one else in the palace of horror. Just me, a man who looks too constipated to talk and attendants that prefer to be treated like air.

In the middle of Romantic nowhere.

Oh, and how can I forget? The constant tension in the air.

Cre..ak

Creaa…

The wheels of the serving cart scream in horror as the butler pushes it in, and he is taking forever.

Thankfully, I shift my eyes towards the man sitting adjacent to me, Elian seems to be much more relaxed than yesterday. He doesn't look happy but the black aura around him yesterday is definitely gone and he looks almost passable as a good person.

He looked like an absolute demon yesterday.

Maybe I should just make him wait every day. Or maybe I was too quick to judge him.

I gasp audibly. Am I the bad person here?

'Excuse me, Sire.' The butler lifts off the covering steel lid with a flourish and sets it down at the side. I skeptically raise an eyebrow at this.

Honestly? Not impressed.

But this? I watch as the guy started laying out a big array of steaming hot dishes; Roast chicken, soft bread, crispy bread, different kinds of soup, roast vegetables, and...yuck. Beans.

My mouth is completely flooded with saliva as soon as a waft of aroma waves around my nostrils. Is it my birthday? I look up to Elian.

And he shakes his head at me as if he heard me and was answering me.

I roll my eyes playfully and spread out my navy blue napkin, tucking it neatly over my white shirt. No spillage, I remind myself, I ended up wearing an all-white outfit in my hurry and I should stop making a complete fool out of myself.

'Thank you.' I nod at the butler gratefully when he turns over his eyes towards me.

He jolts up in alarm and then looks at Elian, who ignores him completely. As though there is only thin air. Without even bothering to glance back at me, he quickly sets out the remaining dishes and scurries off with his squeaky serving cart.

'What was that?'

'Don't engage unnecessarily.' Elian asserts between my puzzled thoughts, he continues as he lays out his napkin, 'We can't afford to have another one of those incidents yet again.'

'Incidents? What incident?'

'Let's say…' Elian looks around the table, and all the food that is laden on top, 'It wouldn't be the first time you have gotten involved with the attendants.'

'Well, it makes sense. If the marriage is not–'

'But if you take it to the attendants, you might as well shout it out in the middle of the town square. Let every one know, shall we?'

The table knife clinks slightly at the edge of his plate as Elian picks it up, and without hesitation, he plunges it near the thigh of the roast chicken. There's a sense of warning in the action. Gently he slices through the thick flesh and I follow the sight of it, gulping quite ashamedly.

My stomach growls. It's that loud that even Elian looks at me in alarm.

'My bad.' I mumble and throw him an offhanded smile.

God, I really need to put something in my stomach ASAP.

I reach over and hurriedly grab my spoon, whichever it is from the bazillion ones arranged on the side of my plate. Digging in, I scoop up a good amount of what looks like tomato soup. Oh lord, the smell is heavenly with a distinct tanginess to it intermixed with a heavy aroma of basil and suddenly, it's in my mouth. I melt.

One more spoon.

Two, three more.

'Slow down, Jesus.' I hear mutter under his breath, and he sounds exasperated.

I don't bother to reply, rolling my eyes again. This time, it's not quite playful. But I continued eating, but slower this time, cutting and tearing through my chicken ravenously. Elian, on the other hand, is picking out his food at a snail's pace with his back straight and movements suave, measured.

He picks through the array of spoons and cutlery, picking one for each purpose. He gently slides in a chicken piece and chews onto it thoroughly. Thoughtfully, he nods to himself and picks up another flat spoon, waving it in the soup. I watch him in a trance as the spoon scoops up the soup, and moves towards his waiting lips, pursed and pink.

What is all the need for that?

Huh?

I come to a halt immediately, the sides of my mouth bulging full of chicken meat and pumpkin gravy. It was good when I had put it in my mouth but it's not exactly the best thing now. Something was not feeling quite right.

Crap.

Don't think too much. I dart my eyes to Elian in fear and thankfully, he is too into his eating show to notice the huge drop on my face. It's okay.

The food in my mouth is bland like lumps of clay and a small familiar pain is rising back in my stomach. And that's when I realized that I had completely forgotten in the rush.

The baby and its tantrums

I am definitely in ocean-deep trouble.

The pain-numbing powder must have worn after all these hours. It's definitely coming back and Elian here is not exactly helping. He's only going to create more conflict in the Pheromones. I move my jaw, chewing what is in my mouth and it feels like what chewing on clay would feel like. But I chew forcibly a few more times before pushing it down my throat, gulping hard.

Okay, I just need to act completely fine.

'Uck!' My throat contracts and I slap my hand over my mouth. It's rising back up and it means serious business this time.

Elian snaps up at the sound immediately, in full attention and I could feel his sharp suspicious gaze on me. But I don't move at all, completely turned into stone. I am scared.

That if I move, then everything will come up.

I gag again and I press my hand harder on my mouth, the tips of my fingers going white from the pressure.

'Adian?'

Okay. No worries. Take deep breaths and act completely normal.

I force myself to swallow again and this time, I don't feel the urge to hurl.

I don't feel anything.

I let go of my mouth and waited for something to happen. But nothing.

Hoo. I think I am okay now.

Then a stabbing pain jabs me through my stomach and I grab my stomach on impulse, my other hand shooting out to grab anything for support.

Shit.

I watch as my hand hits the tall bowl of soup, toppling over the contents on the table and over the plate of roast chicken.

'Adian!' I hear an alarm in Elian's voice. I don't know if it's me or the soup that did it. Then there's the screeching of chair legs across the floor.

Ah, the spinning has started.

'What's wrong?' His voice is barely getting through, 'Can you hear me?'

Elian's face comes into vision and his brows are deeply furrowed, then it goes to spots of black as another sharp pain hits me again.

And here I thought I wouldn't make a fool of myself.