Eyes in the Wall (3)

"I'm so sorry you had to see such a display on your first day here." She shook her head, flushed with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize to me, it's none of my business to comment on," he said, sounding genuine, speaking, but that did little to comfort her.

"You've seen the worst of us tonight. How can you not think poorly of us after seeing that?" She rubbed circles on forehead.

"I am in no place to make any sort of those judgements," he emphasized. "My concern is whether you are alright. You appear a bit distressed." 

Her eyes went from him to the floors. "Y-yes, I'm fine, but thank you for being so understanding." She exhaled sharply. "I do appreciate it, because somedays I feel as if it's becoming irrationally possible to keep everything appearing proper."

"I assure you those are just feelings." The confidence in his words, gave her a twinge of hope. 

Sighing again, she drew all her strength to construct a weak smile. "Silly how things ended up." She glanced around the empty dining hall before turning her torn gaze to him. "I had hoped to stay until tomorrow afternoon just to make sure Erin would behave and adjust back to being home, but I don't think that will be possible. I'm almost certain my husband will want to leave before the morning hits." She sighed again, rubbing her forehead.

"That's alright, I understand."

"I'm sorry, again Mister Ezra." A deep frown carved on her face, regret seeping through every word she spoke. "I know my daughter caused such a scene tonight, and I'm certain she won't exactly be the best tomorrow." 

Sighing, she turned away from him and pulled something out her dress pocket. She paced over to the table, momentarily jotting somethings down before turning her attention back to him. "I'd like you to pass this to her for me." She exposed a white envelope and handed it to him.

"And this is?" He turned the envelope around, looking it over with a scanning eye.

"It's just a curt note I wrote for Erin. I thought to give it to her in person before I leave, but I don't think given the circumstances that would be the best idea." 

"Understandable." He tucked the envelope between his arm. "I will be sure to give it to her. I'm sure she will be happy to know her mother has such compassion for her wellbeing."

"Compassion?" She covered her mouth, growing suddenly intensely emotional. 

"Yes, Lady Anya, compassion and kindness is what you show me, and what you tried to show tonight." 

"You don't think that." She shook her head, fighting a bitter taste in her mouth. "No one thinks that." 

"I would not say it if I did not mean it." 

Water was welling in her eyes, as she shook her head again. "Please, you---." She stopped, words getting caught in her throat. Damp eyes and trembling legs, she covered her face on verge of tears. 

"Lady Anya, are you quite sure you are alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"I am---." She froze midsentence and shakily inhaled. "…I am fine." Gaining composure, she moved her hands from her face. "I am fine," she said again, rubbing the corner of her eyes. "Thank you, really, thank you. We're really happy to have to you begin your work here tomorrow. You are exceptional at exceeding expectations." 

"Lady Anya, you're far too generous." His eyes were glazed with tenderness.

"No, no, no." Glowing conviction swelled in her puffy eyes. "It's not being generous, it's the truth. You are different." She paused, a boulder in her throat, her eyes landed on him with unwavering resolve. "You are."

His dark eyes sharpened, and his soft smile shifted into ambiguity. "I am different?" he questioned, lowering his voice.

"Of course. I could recognize it the moment I met you."

"Recognize what?" 

"That you're a good person," she firmly said.

His only response was to grow the light of his beaming smile.

"You're a good person," she continued. "I'd know, I used to know someone who...," Her eyes landed on the floor. She didn't finish her thought before she brushed over to another one. "A-anyway." She looked at him. "The point is, you have well surpassed my expectations, and I believe to some extent my husband's as well."

He listened to her with only a soft smile.

"Daviyd is---well he's not exactly the easiest to understand. Sometimes he says and does things that can be misunderstood. But he's not always like that, or perhaps I should say he wasn't always like that." Pain wedged into her contemplative stare. "Point is, I think Daviyd is still very impressed by you," she hurriedly added. "It's just, he's still under the impression that even you won't last long, and as he always says, even the most skillful aren't always the most suited to the job." She looked away briefly before meeting his eyes again. "But, despite him, I have faith in you."

"Faith?"

"Yes, faith, trust." She sharply stopped once more, swiping her eyes past his. "I know that is a bold statement to say considering there's only so much I know about you."

"It's alright, I understand what you're saying, almost all in a vein of fate." He smiled, the flicker of his outstretched wrist and finger drawing a brief line against a vein catching in her sight. 

"All in a vein of fate?" The words made her falter. "Why did you say that? Who told you about that?" Panic was starting in her widening eyes. 

"Is there something wrong?

"Why did you say that?" 

He furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, it is a just a common man's saying." 

"Oh," she dejected with a shaky voice. "Right. Sure." She cleared her throat. "It's getting late, I should be on my way. I hope to see you when we return." Without another word, she paced to the doors and left the dining hall.

The moment the doors clicked shut, his smile shrunk.

He straightened his cuffs, adjusted the links, and looked down at his shoes where remnants of soup were turning into crusty gunks. Then his eyes met his hands, where the wine was turning into sticky red stains on his skin. From there, his sight locked onto his suit's cufflinks, the rustic silver engraved with marigold flowers was marred with a yellowish residue that released a thick odor.

For a long moment, he stood there, squinting at the unpleasant mess littered on his clothes, hands, and feet.

With a sharp exhale, he brushed dried soup crust from his cufflinks. He was ready to leave, but the clatter of plates and silverware made him halt in his tracks. He rotated around to spot the sight of a maid clearing the table. She worked diligently removing unfinished meals and empty wine bottles, placing them into a sliver service cart accordingly.

"Miria," he said, easily recognizing the maid by thin stature and reserved demeanor.

He glanced around the hall before pacing over to her. "Hello again." A relaxed smile eased onto his face.

Miria stiffened, locking her bones as a rigid as a plank. Constricted by a snake of anxiety, her lips parted but no words came, only a garbled loosely vocalized sound similar to a gasp. Her face crinkled in hesitance as she searched around the room.

"Oh?" He watched the cup she was preparing to put away wobbled in her flustered grip. "You're worried?" Like hers, his eyes briefly bounced around the empty hall before settling back on her. "Don't worry. It's just us right now. Besides, I know you're the one."

Miria's eyes went wide as he continued. 

"I must admit, today was unexpected," he sighed, taking the glass cup from her hands and placing it delicately inside the service bin. "Lord Sutherton, Lady Sutherton, and then Erina Sutherton. They are indeed something else."

Miria's face inflated, her brows raised wide and her mouth tugged open. Hurriedly, she reached into her apron pouch and plucked out a square chalkboard and flaky chalk stick. For a second, she cast a heavy stare to the floors before placing the worn black chalkboard against the table, quickly scribbling quickly down words. When she was done, she flipped the board towards him.

He read the board, absorbing the words with an exhale. "Yeah. I know." He brushed his hair back. "I know." 

Pulling a long face, she reached into her apron pouch and took out a white flower embroidered handkerchief, offering it. 

"For me?" 

She nodded. 

He smiled, taking it. "Thanks."

Without another word, she nodded and dismissed herself to finally leave him alone. Or at least what he believed himself to be alone.

"What's happening now?" Samira asked as Naeun continued to peep from the door. 

"He's cleaning his uniform." 

"He's taking it off?" Samira swiftly tried to squeeze next to her. 

"No, you pinhead horndog!" Naeun turned and shoved her back. 

She landed on her bum. "Ouch," she grimaced. "You said he was cleaning it so I thought you meant he took it off to clean it." 

Naeun sighed, shaking her head. She went back to the door to peek. "He's not leaving. He's just cleaning his uniform and---." She paused. 

"What?" Samira was back on her feet and back to squirming to get a view. 

"Why is he doing that?"

"What? Doing what? Is he really taking it off?" Samira grew even more frantic to get a view. She pulled and tugged hard on Naeun. 

"Just what exactly is he doing?" Naeun peered. 

"Nae? What is going on! Come on you've been hogging this! Let me see now! I wanna see!" She begged like a child in a candy store. "Nae!" She pulled harder. 

"Samira!" Naeun whipped her head to her. "You need to quiet down. Do you want anybody to see us eavesdropping and fidgeting like two schoolgirls? Do you really want Mister Ezra to see us---!" 

"Ladies." They heard a man's voice right by the doors. 

Both of them stopped their bickering and squabbling as they peered to the doors. 

"Can you move from the doors? I can't get in," Ezra popped his head in between the door crack they were once using to snoop. 

The girls looked to each other and hurriedly got to their feet. 

As he stepped into the small room, they stepped back.