Tomorrow’s Shadow
Part III
Full Circle
Copyright 2016 Marcus Kruger
Table of Contents
Prologue
An Agonizing Farewell
Seeking Truth
Uninvited
Rebuffed
Regarding the Heart
Trouble in Paradise
Divide and Conquer
Closing In
Springing the Trap
Goodbyes and Farewells
Season of Change
Words of Wrath
Time Waits for No One
Aftermath
Resolution
~ Prologue ~
“He is wolven. You can have nothing to do with him.” Vargon glared at his chylde, his eyes ablaze with anger. “By the Fates, you are Prince!”
Stefano fought to contain his kindred anger. “You have a friend that is wolven. You stated it yourself. She was your friend even while you were Prince.” Stefano sipped his bloodwyne, watching Vargon over the rim of his glass with hooded eyes. “How is that so different?”
“She maintains her mortal form except during wolfmoon. You told me yourself that your past love gave himself over to the night fully.”
“I hardly see how…”
“I will not debate this with you.”
“Nor I with you, Lord Vargon. I do, however, suggest you remember who is Prince now and speak with the respect due to such. Or, to quote my predecessor, I shall take the actions allowed me by convention, by tradition – indeed, by law.”
“Against your own sire.”
“Who taught me that the duties of a Prince outweigh the bonds of sire and chylde?”
Vargon paused, then bowed his head. “As you wish, my Lord Prince. May you find the strength to live by your own convictions.” He turned and walked out the front door.
Gerik stood beside his mate, his eyes wide. “I have never seen your sire in such a state.”
“Nor I, my heart.”
Viktor looked up from his ledger. “You realize, m’Lord, he only wants what is best in his eyes.”
Stefano sighed as he regarded his manservant. “I know, Viktor. But he oversteps himself, which is very much unlike him.”
“Which should tell you how concerned he is.”
“Mayhaps. It is still uncalled for.”
“Of course, m’Lord. If you will excuse me.”
Stefano watched his friend and manservant disappear through the door to the kitchens. As the door closed, he turend to Gerik. “Am I so in the wrong? All I stated was that I wished I knew where Nikolos was so I could speak with him.”
“I do not believe you are wrong in wishing so, Stef. I won’t say that I am pleased with the prospect of you being with him. But only because I do not know him as you do, and he is wolven.” He stepped behind the bar to freshen their drinks. “Do you have any way of contacting him?”
“No. Of course not. I did not even say I was planning on searching for him. Only that I wish I had a chance to talk to him. To learn for myself what happened the day he disappeared.”
“Is that not somewhat obvious, my heart?”
Stefano sighed again. “I suppose it is, Gerik. I suppose it is.”
Gerik idly tapped the side of his glass.
“What is it, Gerik? You only do that when there is something on your mind..”
“I was wondering if you still planned on going to House Verenthal tomorrow eve.”
“I had forgotten. Yes, of course. I gave my word, we have no choice..”
“My thoughts as well, beloved, though I am beginning to understand your hesitance in spending time with mortal-kind.”
----
Early the following evening, Viktor watched as the sun slipped below the horizon in a blaze of gold and crimson. He stood at the balcony rail, sipping a mug of an herbal mixture of his own creation. Though his eyes watched the splendor of shifting colors, his mind was on other matters. Should I tell Lord Stefano that his sire no longer responds to my reaches? I doubt Lord Vargon would wish it, but without the ability to speak with him I am left to my own judgement. If I spoke it, what purpose would it serve? I am not truly concerned over it - I do not sense anything has happened to my old friend - but that he avoids responding troubles me nonetheless. As the sky faded to a dark violet he finished his brew and stepped back into the Keep.
Once inside, Viktor nodded to lords Stefano and Gerik as they descended the grand staircase and crossed to the bar. Stefano stood quietly, exercising his patience as Gerik fussed over his sire’s cravat and the creases of his shirt. When Stefano reached for his snifter of brandy, Gerik smacked his hand away.
“Hold still. I’ll be done in a moment.” As the younger kindred began tugging at the sides of the waistcoat, Stefano finally brushed him away.
“Enough. I am not some debutante about to be presented at court.”
“Lord and Lady Verenthal are prominent within the houses of Atterstock and close acquaintances to my parents. I only wish to make the best of impressions on them.”
“You think they will get your parents to accept us? After all your father has said against our relationship?”
“No. But I’d rather they not report badly.”
“Does that mean I am not to touch you?”
“No. Of course not. Just … “
“Just don’t be you?”
Gerik swatted Stefano’s shoulder. “I am not that bad.”
Stefano smiled as lust burned in his dark eyes. “No, love. You are that good.”
Viktor cleared his throat and headed for the bar. “Are ye ready to depart for your evening’s engagement? I can send for a carriage to be ready when you reach the mainland.”
Gerik gasped. “I had forgotten. Thank you, Viktor. We’d be lost without you.”
Viktor bowed his head. “Happy to be of assistance, Lord Gerik.”
Stefano rolled his eyes and grabbed his drink, taking it in one gulp.
Viktor started to step away but stopped. “Master Stefano, I have need to tell ye I heard from the workmen. They shall be here to replace the balcony doors on the morrow.”
“Excellent. Thank you for tending to that, my friend.”
“As always, it is my pleasure to serve, m’Lord.”
Stefano checked the time before pouring himself a refill and sighed. “I suppose we best get to the stables and head for the ferry. Viktor, if you would release a bird for the ferryman he can probably send for the carriage before he heads across.”
Viktor nodded and disappeared into the kitchens.
Later, as they rode in the carriage, Gerik prattled on about the Lord and Lady, how his parents and the Verenthals would get together for various functions, how the ladies held teas for the women of the district, and how the lords would hunt quail and pheasant. Stefano answered from time to time with a noncommittal grunt as he gazed out the window at the passing scenery.
The road circled around a small lake bordered by different types of tree and undergrowth. Being late in the seasons, leaves were turning to a brilliant cacophony of reds and browns, golds and oranges, interlaced with various intensities of green. The air was crisp with the clean smell of autumn; the only sound was the gentle rhythm of horse hooves on cobblestone. Stefano was relaxed into the atmosphere of the pleasant surroundings when he heard Gerik repeatedly said his name, each time in rising frustration.
“Stefano. Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m sorry, love. I guess my mind was on sire and this disagreement about Nikolos. I do apologize. What were you saying?”
“Not that I suppose it compares to your important issues, b
ut I was going to point out House Arvent, since they have asked for us to visit later this month.” The younger kindred crossed his arms across his chest and looked out the window.
“Love, please. I realize you have your hands full with managing our social calendar, even with Viktor’s assistance, but do understand there is much on my mind at present as well.”
Gerik turned to his sire and sighed, uncrossing his arms. “I know. You are in much the same ship as I, what with how Lord Vargon left things. I am sure it weighs on your spirit, dearest one … I do not know. I suppose I still hope for reconciliation with Father. I am certain it is his opinion that holds Mother away.” He looked at the floorboards of the carriage. “I suppose it is just pointless wishing, but they are my parents.”
“I know, my heart. I know.” As the carriage turned onto a private lane lined with oak trees in fall splendor, Stefano reached to an inner pocket and withdrew a silver flask, which he handed to Gerik. “Here. Take a sip.”
Gerik looked skeptical. “What is this?”
“Bourbon. It will settle your nerves and mayhaps get your legs to stop shaking.”
“They are not … alright, I suppose they are … somewhat. Do you really think I need…?”
“Yes. Drink.”
Gerik took a swig and shuddered, coughing. “By the Fates, this is house bourbon.”
“Of course it is.”
“I was not expecting the alcohol level. Not to mention the absence of blood.”
“We fed earlier; there was no need for sustenance.” Stefano glanced out the window as the carriage came to a full halt. “Take another sip. We are there.”