~ Words of Wrath ~
Stefano paced the floor before the fireplace. The fire that burned there was dim in comparison to the fury in the prince’s eyes. A specially-sent runner had returned an hour earlier with news that Gerik had gotten to The Row, but had left hours earlier. It is almost dawn. Where is he? In anger he threw his glass against the stone inside the fireplace. Enough cognac remained to cause the fire to flare. He was about to return to the bar for a fresh glass when the front door opened and his chylde stumbled inside.
Stefano turned to face the recalcitrant kindred. “Where, by the Fates, have you been? It is almost light!”
Gerik tilted his head and closed one eye, trying to focus on the one speaking. “Pffft. Much you care.” His words were heavily slurred. “I have been … out.”
The Lord of the Keep scowled, recognizing the effect of alcohol on the man’s system. He took two steps towards the younger kindred before he stopped cold. “By all that is dark, you smell like a distillery.”
Gerik giggled. “I shepose that ish what happens when you feed outside a tav.. a tavern.”
Stefano turned his back. “Go to bed. I will not deal with you in this condition.”
“Ah but Shtef, I am not inebriated that heavy. Come give me kiss and I will prove it.”
“Go to bed, Gerik, before I forget you are my chylde and speak only as your Prince.”
“No.”
Stefano spun to glare at Gerik. “Repeat that. I find it difficult to believe I heard it from you.”
“I said ‘no’. I want to ‘pologize to you.” Gerik almost tripped over his own feet trying to walk forward.
“Do not presume my patience, my chylde. Just. Go. Upstairs.”
“No.” Gerik stood with his hands on his hips, weaving slightly.
“Then the dawn take you.” Stefano turned on his heel and stepped into his office. The heavy door slid closed; the heavy bolt could be heard clicking into place.
Viktor stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the room, quickly summing the situation. He walked to Gerik’s side and placed one of the drunk kindred’s arms over his neck and shoulders as he wrapped an arm around the kindred’s side. “Come, Lord Gerik. Ye need to retire.”
“I want Shtefan…o”
“Sweet Fates. I said ‘come’.” The mage’s eyes glowed a soft blue.
Gerik found himself walking beside Viktor and ascending the stairs. His mind began to clear as the force of the spell over him took hold. “Viktor? I cannot go to the bed chambers. Stefano is in his office.”
“In which case ye need to leave him in peace. Walk.” Viktor managed to finally get Gerik to the door to the suite. He unlocked the door and swung it open, then unceremoniously shoved the kindred through. “Sleep, fool. And hope your sire calms before next eve.” He closed the door between them and walked back downstairs. He paused at the bottom considering before turning to walk to the panels of Stefano’s door. He gestured toward the door and the heavy oak shook under the force of an energy bolt. “Master Stefano, I have gotten Lord Gerik into your suite. I trust ye to resolve the issue on the morrow.”
The door thudded before sliding back and open. Stefano stood in his office, shadows swirling over his head. “Whether or not I ‘resolve the issue’ is my affair. You would do best to remember your station.” He turned his back on Viktor as his door slid closed and slipped back into its place.
Viktor paused only a moment before heading to the kitchens to prepare for the day.
As should ye, Lord Prince.
-----
It was past midnight before Gerik finally returned downstairs, dressed in riding attire. His face was haggard and drawn, his need for sustenance hung around him like a woolen cloak. As he looked around the room, he found Stefano and Viktor both standing at the bar, going over what he assumed was Keep business. He closed his eyes to calm himself, then slowly started across the room.
Stefano had seen Gerik descend the stairs but purposely kept his attention on Viktor’s ledger sheet as the two of them discussed servant needs and food requirements for said servants.
“Then I understand we have the spare rooms, Viktor?”
“Indeed, Master Stefano. There are still six rooms unoccupied in the servant wing.”
“Excellent. Prepare four of them for the subjugates coming from Rensdale.”
“Two in each room, then.”
“Yes. As is standard.”
“Consider it done, Master Stefano. It will be good for ye to be able to find sustenance without having to go to the mainland.”
Stefano looked up at Gerik standing near the bar, but quiet, hands clasped behind him as he waited for an opening in their discussion. “Good morning, my heart. I trust you slept soundly.”
“Do you truly? I wouldn’t think you cared about my sleeping habits, since you keep yourself from me. Mayhaps you are being satisfied in the bed of a wolven.”
“I will not have this discussion, Gerik; I have done nothing to warrant it. What you saw was an embrace between close friends that are parting – possibly for the last time.”
“Even if true, that gives no justification for the passion that was so openly displayed on your balcony. But then, this is your home.”
Stefano’s eyes grew dark, shadows swirled in his pupils. “That is all I will hear, young one. I expect you to present yourself properly to your sire. And if not, then you will before your Prince. I trust that is understood.”
Anger flashed in the younger kindred’s eyes. “Perfectly, Sire, my Lord Prince. If you will excuse me now I am going riding.” He paused briefly. “Actually, I am going riding whether or not you excuse my absence.”
Stefano sighed. “I hope it calms you so we can discuss and not argue, my heart. It pains to see you like this, to feel the wrath that emanates from your being. I don’t know if you will hear this, or accept it, but I do love you.”
Gerik stood quiet only a moment before he firmly set his jaw. “I am not sure I wish to receive love so tarnished by a wolven.” He turned and walked out the front doors.
Stefano looked at Viktor. “Is there anything else needing my presence at this time?”
Viktor shook his head, his eyes mirroring the sorrow and pain seen in his friend’s. “Not at this time, Master Stefano. I shall manage until we speak again.”
The Lord of the Keep forced a smile. “You always do, my friend. I am sorry for what you have to wade through between my chylde and I. Even more than I regret my words to you last night.”
“Last night has been cleared by your earlier apology, my Lord. Ye have no need to do so again nor apologize for the actions of another. Find peace, my friend.”
“I shall try, Viktor; I shall try. Right now I am going for a swim. Hopefully that will clear my mind as it calms my nerves.”
“Very good, Master Stefano.”
Viktor watched his friend and master walk to the balcony and turn for the stairs. Only when out of sight did the manservant allow his anger to show.
Young Gerik treads on unstable ground. And I do not sense that he cares.
-----
It was several hours before Stefano returned from his swim. He crossed to the stairs silently to change in his room. After showering and changing to dry clothes, he returned to the great hall and crossed the room to the bar. He looked at his manservant and sighed as he sat.
“Brandy, please, Viktor.”
“From your countenance, I would assume Lord Gerik was not upstairs.”
“No. Has he been back at all?”
“I am sorry, but I have not seen him, my Lord.”
Stefano downed his drink. “I am going to go find him. We are short hours before the dawn.” He shook his head and muttered to himself as he walked out the front door.
I have a good idea now about how Vargon felt with my fighting him. This hurts beyond comprehension, and I cannot allow it to continue.