FAITH
Morning came quicker than I wished it would, and Hawthorn felt more alive. I'm not sure if there was anything that said "I am alive" louder than the sound of a child wailing at first light. I can't say whose child it was as I am yet to meet the rest of the family. Unable to wallow in bed any longer, I push apart the curtains, opening the windows to the courtyard and the pathway that led to the rusted gates. I frowned at the dry leaves that littered the cobblestones and the waning gardens languishing a few metres beside the path. In a way, it reminded me of the Minerva house right after my mother's passing. No one cared enough about anything at that point to bother with pruning and watering a bunch of plants. It has been precisely 8 months since her passing, and in those eight long months, I tried everything to distract myself— move on faster, as Johnathan called it. Gardening was one of them. The garden was my mother's, which made working on it even harder. I gave up soon after and took up writing as a different escape, and when the words couldn't make their way to the page, I tried painting. Failing at that, too, I took a second look at Liam's letter, which I had discarded in a cabinet subsequently after its arrival. After two weeks of trying to force myself out of my eight-month-long slump, I accepted the invitation and made my way to Hawthorn.
Jonathan said I was purposefully "distracting myself from coming to terms with my mother's death". He didn't get it. How do you explain to someone that after a series of losing loved ones, it doesn't take as long to move on when you lose another? I have come to terms with her death. I didn't want to cry about it for months to prove that.
Feeling irritated by the sight of the shrivelled flowers and all the unwanted memories they brought back, I peeled myself from the windowsill and into the washroom. I take a cold bath, after which I make my way down the hall, to talk to Liam about the room change before I unpacked my bags, while also making a list of reasons for my request—The unsightly garden positioned in front of my window being at the top of it.
"She's spoiled. You know exactly how she was raised. She didn't even come to see us at dinner. Hawthorn is not some hotel—."
"She's mourning, Aunt Heidi. Let her be. You haven't met her yet. She's my friend and I intend to take care of her" It's Liam who responds.
"Oh please, that was forever ago…"
"You shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations" I spin around to see Jean leaning on the wall, his sleeves rolled to reveal his biceps, his dark damp hair sticking to the side of his face, and his stone-cold eyes searing a hole through my soul.
"Not when that conversation is about me" I respond, folding my arms across my chest as I walk towards him. He doesn't move an inch until I'm standing in front of him. Jean pushes himself upright, plastering a small smile on his face as he stares down at me.
"Did you rest well, Miss Minerva?" He asks, causing me to narrow my eyes at his sudden courtesy. Now that I think about it, Jean has never been as doting to me as all the other servants at Minerva house, and for the few hours that we have spoken to each other, he always addressed me so casually.
"Who are you?" I ask. An odd question. He raises a brow, surprised at it before taking a step back.
"I am Jean"
"Jean what? Do you not have a last name? Where are you from, Jean?"
"That's a lot of questions" he replies, his tone laced with caution. I open my mouth to ask another but a door opens and Liam walks out with a blonde woman. She's much older than him. Anyone would have mistaken her for his mother if they didn't know that Liam's mother had passed soon after his birth.
"Faith—" Liam says, surprised. "Did you rest well?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you" My eyes rest on the woman scornfully eyeing me like a piece of rag. Liam's eyes follow mine catching both of us in a heated gaze. This is the woman who called me spoiled.
"Ah yes. Faith, this is my Aunt Heidi. Aunt, this is Faith." He says.
"A pleasure to meet the granddaughter of Henry Minerva. He was such a great artist" Heidi starts, walking towards me. I can't tell if it's sarcasm laced in her tone or demure. Either way, it's obvious she's not a fan of my family.
"A pleasure to meet you too. I apologise for not being at dinner to meet the rest of the family properly. I was exhausted from my trip" I say, hinting at their earlier conversation. Her forehead creases as she tries to play it off with a wave of her hand.
"All is forgiven. Enjoy your time here" she concludes with a final wave before walking away from us. I return my attention to Liam who is staring down at me with furrowed brows. I know that look. I've seen it too many times in the past twenty-three years of my life to not recognise it. Pity.
"Are you alright?" He asks me.
"Never been better. I came to ask for a room change"
"Why?" It's Jean who speaks. Liam's attention diverts to the smouldering man behind me. He lifts a brow as if he hadn't noticed him standing there all this time.
"The power doesn't work. The view from the bedroom is one I would rather not see. The water runs cold. It's an old room that belonged to a special person. I wouldn't want to disturb it" I list off the top of my head. I don't include the conversation I overheard for obvious reasons. Liam blinks twice as he processes my complaints.
"The maintenance comes later in the afternoon. As for the power…" he lifts the satchel in his hand— that I had only noticed now— to my eye level. "I was just on my way to get it fixed"
"Wait—"
"Sir! Sir!" Harry yelled, barrelling through the halls, his shoes clopping loudly on the floorboards alerting everyone within a mile of his arrival exactly as he had done when I arrived yesterday. He runs a hand through his ginger hair, before resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
"What's the problem, Harry?"
Harry opens his mouth to speak but the words don't make it out when he locks eyes with me. He sends Liam a cautious look, his eyes darting from me to Liam.
"Your guests have arrived," he says simply.
Liam's entire body goes rigid. An unsettling look crosses his face but it's gone in an instant. "Did they say why they've come?"
"Certainly not for tea"
"My apologies, Faith. I have to attend to them. You can use the room. I assure you everything will be fixed before nightfall" He said curtly. I try to protest but he's already long gone before I could say anything.
"Breakfast, Miss?" Jean asks. He's a suspicious-looking fellow but I don't address it. I walk past him, making my way down the stairs. I catch a glimpse of Liam talking to a dark-haired woman right before they disappear behind a large door.
"Who do you think she is?" I mutter to myself.
"A suitor maybe" Jean answers.
Suitor? I didn't think Liam was interested in marriage or romance of any kind. I remember quite vividly at the boarding school, he made a planner on how he would spend the rest of his life. Most of it had to do with his career and nothing about romance. Seems like that changed since he became a man. Seems like a lot of things changed. One of them was the air of awkwardness between us that we both instinctively decide to pretend didn't exist.
Ignoring what I had just seen, I follow Jean to the dining room. He must have gotten acquainted with the place last night. My attention does not travel around the house as it did yesterday. Nothing is interesting about this part of the house. It's cleaner than the other wing but there are no decade-old paintings and ripped wallpaper. The style is as modern and trendy as the ones in Sabone, brighter too. It almost appears as though we are no longer in Hawthorn Manor but in a smaller vacation house just off the coast of The Sab. The power works too. Why did Liam want me to stay in the other wing?
As we approached a closed door, the sounds of spoons clattering on plates got louder and I could hear someone laughing. Jean pushes the door open and I walk in to find something I hadn't seen in a long time. A family around a dining table.
This side of Hawthorn Manor was alive.