Tomorrow’s Shadow
Part II
Transitions
Copyright 2016 Marcus Kruger
Table of Contents
Prologue
Power Shift
Weathering the Tumult
Meeting the Minions
Rite of Passage
Let the Games Begin
Life Lessons
Sins of the Past
This Present Peace
An Unexpected Guest
Storm's Fury
Directed Rage
History Repeated
~ Prologue ~
Gerik descended the stairs slowly, his eyes looking around the great hall. Every time he entered he was awe struck by the splendor of it all. How it was possible he didn’t know, but he was certain it was more splendid than before the fire. He paused at the base of the steps and turned, fixing his gaze on the stunning portrait at the first landing. His sire, dressed in his usual tight black trousers and crimson peasant shirt, unlaced, of course. All over his dark-as-pitch riding boots. The painting almost looked alive; the artist had done a tremendous job. The darkness of his sire's eyes was true, complete with the indication of shadows within the pupils.
To the right of the stairs was the grand piano, twin of the one lost in the destruction. A high gloss ebony, its lid always propped open full. Directly opposite sat the harp, one of the few items to have survived the blaze. Tarnish had to be removed from some of the gold inlays, but it shone with the glory it always had. Gerik planned to learn how to play it at some point.
Between the two instruments, the double French doors to the balcony had been completely redesigned. Ornate stained-glass panels provided beauty as well as limited privacy between the balcony and great hall anytime they were closed. The handles to the doors were a distinctly cut crystal, as were most knobs and handles on doors throughout the Keep. Heavy crimson drapes hung on either side of the door, a bold change from the simpler black that was once there. Gerik wasn’t sure their purpose, since he never saw them drawn closed.
The finely varnished oak floors had, of course, been replaced throughout Haven, as had all interior doors. The bar opposite the stairway had also been replaced. It had not been badly damaged, but odors from the fire lingered in the wood of the original so it was torn out and the new one built. The heavy double front doors were another item from before the fire. It was unknown how the wood had managed to survive, but due to their intricate inlaid carvings, it was decided to restore rather than replace them.
Between the bar and the harp, the grand stone fireplace had also been restored, any and all indications of the previous havoc carefully removed. As was typical for the Keep, a low, gentle fire was kept burning all night, allowed to go cold only during day hours. All the plush chairs and settees were new; the settees a dark crimson to match the drapes on the French doors. Chairs were patterned, the colors and designs varied but serene.
The last large items to be replaced in the great hall were the large twin chandeliers that hung on either side of the room’s center. Gerik had no idea how the staff kept them so immaculately cleaned; he knew it was done during daylight when he slept. In truth, most of the staff was only out and working during the day, very few had been granted the trust to be present during the evening hours. Likewise was the upkeep of the walls and ceiling that always appeared freshly painted. Since there was never any paint odors, he again wasn't sure how the staff managed them.
Gerik sighed as he took it all in, still somewhat in awe that this was now his home. His reverie was broken by the stirring sound of his lover’s voice.
“Good morrow, dear heart. You are looking … completely edible this eve.”
“Ah yes. You demonstrated that well last eve.” He chuckled. “So, you did rest well?”
“I did, but perhaps not as well as you. You didn’t even stir when I rose tonight.”
“Had to replenish the energy you so skillfully used afore we retired.” Another chuckle. “So then, no one’s here yet, I assume.”
“No. Though it is early yet. You are aware of course, that none may show.”
“Because of our relationship? My love, we have talked this to great lengths. I do not expect my parents to show; they have been against this from the moment I told them I was moving here. But not everyone is so closed-minded.”
“We shall see what we shall see.”
Gerik walked over and kissed his mate. “Stef, sometimes you say the most profound things.”
Stefano laughed and moved to swat Gerik’s butt. “How good of you to notice.”
Gerik tried a pouting face but instead broke into laughter. “You bring out the best in me. Or is that the beast. . . ?”
“Both, I hope.”
“Gentlemen, I am glad to see you are both here.” Viktor entered from the kitchens, paper and pencil in hand. “There are some final decisions to be made.”
Stefano sighed. “I thought everything was decided. What possibly could be left?”
“For one, you have not chosen between the quail egg and caviar or the foie gras. And if the latter, goose or duck, we happen to have both in the larder.”
“I had expected the egg and the pate, actually. Why would we not have both for our guests? This is the first open house we have held since the fire.”
“I would agree with Stefano. This is supposed to be a grand event. People should be talking about this for months.”
Viktor absent-mindedly tapped the pencil against the bar. “Yes, and how you convinced Master Stefano to agree to this is beyond me.”
Gerik laughed. “I could go into details, but I doubt they are for public perusal.”
Viktor paused only a moment. “I am neither public, nor able to be shocked or offended. However, since such talk will end up with the two of you upstairs and me without an answer, we best leave that stone unturned. Now then, about the pate, goose or duck?”
Stefano looked to Gerik. “Which would you prefer, my heart. Assuming that you still ate such.”
“I was always more fond of goose, myself.”
“Goose it is, then. Anything else, Viktor? Guests should be arriving soon and we have yet to dress for the occasion.”
“No one will be arriving for at least another hour, if not two. But thank you, gentlemen, for decisions made. I shall inform the cooks. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear they are to fix both the eggs and the pate.”
Stefano and Gerik watched him walk back into the kitchen in silence. Gerik chortled as the door closed, holding back as long as he could, before breaking into laughter. “What eats at him of late?”
“I have no idea. He has been on edge for a week now, and it bothers me. I’m not used to seeing him off balance. Hopefully it resolves soon.”
Gerik slid his fingers down Stefano’s chest. If we are to dress for tonight’s gala … we will need to undress first. And it would probably be wise to … lose any spurious energies before we don anything fresh.”
Stefano shook his head. “Your passions are insatiable, my heart, for which I am eternally thankful.”
The men shared tongues briefly before they headed to their shared quarters. Quickly.
… … …
The evening passed without any problems. As suspected, Gerik’s parents were not in attendance, nor were two other houses, which left only five houses present. Stefano found himself relaxing much easier with the fewer people present, not to mention with Gerik at his side. Before the evening ended, he had promised his guests that the next event he would have a string quartet present. His secret hope was that he be spared from playing at least once.
After
the last couple left, Gerik flopped onto the settee by the fireplace and groaned. “How do you do this? Entertaining mortals, having all that pulse and heat so close. It was maddening.”
It was Stefano’s turn to chuckle. “Time. It takes time to tame the beast within. But you did very well tonight. I am proud of your growing knowledge of kindred life.”
Both men were startled as Viktor dropped a couple glasses which shattered on the floor behind the bar. “Blast to the heavens!” He looked at Stefano. “My apologies, Master Stefano. I seem to be more tired than I realize.”
Stefano nodded. “Understandable. Tonight was a flurry for quite a while. You maintained the drinks and food admirably, as always. Why don’t you have some of the help finish cleaning up and you can retire.”
“Too much to do, m’Lord. Just … too much to do.” He grumbled to himself as he stepped into the kitchens.
“Come, sit with me.” Gerik patted the space beside him. “I could use some closeness with the man who holds my heart.”
Stefano smiled and started across the room. He was about to sit when the heavy front doors burst open.
“Why is there no footman at this door? I would expect better!”
Stefano leaned down and whispered, “Speaking of irritable persons…” He kissed the top of his love’s head who was trying hard not to laugh. Stefano pasted a smile on his face as he straightened and turned to greet their new visitors.
“Sire. An unexpected pleasure to be sure. And Odessa. Good to see you both. To what do we owe this honor?”
“No answer? I ask why you have forgotten all propriety.”
“Yes sir. We just finished an open house to celebrate the restoration of the Keep and I let the men retire early in reward of their excellent service. So I have forgotten nothing. If I had known you were coming I would have arranged differently. I apologize for your needing to open the door yourself.” He paused to check his temper. “Now then … what brings you to Haven?”
Vargon raised Odessa’s hand he held and kissed her fingers. She leaned up to kiss his cheek, then patted his hand reassuringly. His voice quieted as he looked Stefano in the eyes and limped forward.
“It is time for you to be Prince.”