The afternoon fires crystallized the emerging sky with a golden sun, while the gentle autumn winds fluttered across the horizons, chilling the skin with love. The familiar morning chaos swirled in the school's high-ceilinged, ornately decorated dining hall, accompanied by the quarrels of toddlers and teenagers, the epitome of annoyance.
"We fasted," the head matron ordered sternly as she passed between the tables, causing everyone to start, heads jerking up in inspection. "Be quiet during breakfast." The youngsters muttered obedient regret, and the teenagers rolled their eyes in rebellion.
Sam stayed in her seat, fiddling with her spoon sleeplessly, listening to the noise of her companions around the table without much notice. She hadn't had a very restful night after sneaking upstairs with Louie. She didn't remember exactly when they returned to their rooms, but it was late, and the matron nearly caught them outside their dorms during her evening rounds.
"Sam"
She blinked, feeling a stick of wax candy being thrown at her to capture her concentration. She craned her neck to meet the eyes of her friend sitting two away, and stepped back to hear her companion's puzzled tone. "You seem distracted. What's wrong?"
Sam pursed her lips without answering; the other understood her desire not to speak at this hour. Her friend leaned in gently and a knowing smile formed on her lips. "I didn't find you in your bed last night after bedtime. Did you sneak out again last night?"
The blonde held back her nervousness by shrinking her eyelids. Her habit of sneaking out from time to time was no secret to her companions, but this time she had gone upstairs, which was forbidden to them, and if she was found out under any circumstances, her punishment would not be easy .
The afternoon fires crystallized the emerging sky with a golden sun, while the gentle autumn winds fluttered across the horizons, chilling the skin with love. The familiar morning chaos swirled in the school's high-ceilinged, ornately decorated dining hall, accompanied by the quarrels of toddlers and teenagers, the epitome of annoyance.
"We fasted," the head matron ordered sternly as she passed between the tables, causing everyone to start, heads jerking up in inspection. "Be quiet during breakfast." The youngsters muttered obedient regret, and the teenagers rolled their eyes in rebellion.
Sam stayed in her seat, fiddling with her spoon sleeplessly, listening to the noise of her companions around the table without much notice. She hadn't had a very restful night after sneaking upstairs with Louie. She didn't remember exactly when they returned to their rooms, but it was late, and the matron nearly caught them outside their dorms during her evening rounds.
"Sam"
She blinked, feeling a stick of wax candy being thrown at her to capture her concentration. She craned her neck to meet the eyes of her friend sitting two away, and stepped back to hear her companion's puzzled tone. "You seem distracted. What's wrong?"
Sam pursed her lips without answering; the other understood her desire not to speak at this hour. Her friend leaned in gently and a knowing smile formed on her lips. "I didn't find you in your bed last night after bedtime. Did you sneak out again last night?"
The blonde held back her nervousness by shrinking her eyelids. Her habit of sneaking out from time to time was no secret to her companions, but this time she had gone upstairs, which was forbidden to them, and if she was found out under any circumstances, her punishment would not be easy
"No. I seem to have sleepwalked again; I woke up next to the drawing room," she muttered. She might have been easily confused, but she was a master at fabricating lies. Her friend's eyes didn't show conviction, but she accepted her response as an explanation and rejoined the group, allowing Sam to exhale in relief.
She turned her head to the left, two tables away, catching sight of Louis, who was sandwiched between his noisy friends, who were throwing food and making a racket she could clearly hear. But he wasn't getting along at all with them. He was completely lost in thought, fiddling with his spoon, his eyes scanning the void, deep in thought
He thought what she was thinking too. He hadn't had a good night without strange dreams. He was preoccupied with what preoccupied her, and with that painting, with its mysterious aura, haunted her waking hours before her falling asleep. Whenever she remembered it, a cold shiver would overtake her. How frightening the resemblance was between Louis and that unknown count.
She had never believed in spiritual or supernatural matters, and perhaps that terrible resemblance was pure coincidence, but she had to admit to herself that she at least felt a connection of some kind between that old painting and Louis, who sat two tables away.
Perhaps she really needed a little sleep.
The chatter of history had always been his favorite.
But Louis found himself yawning repeatedly, and no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the teacher's talk about Native Americans, he only caught words that faded into the back of his muddled mind. He needed to concentrate, he needed to sleep, he needed to research
"Ms. Natalia, can I ask you something?" All eyes fell on the hand raised in the air for a few seconds, while the teacher frowned at the blonde who was probably napping in the back of the room until class was over. So her desire to ask a history question was surprising to everyone.
"Yes, Sam. Is there something you didn't understand?"
Louis was able to decipher her manipulative look alongside her delicate smile. He knew she hadn't intended to ask about anything related to the lesson at all; which left him with only one guess as to what the blonde was going to ask a history teacher, and he wasn't impressed at all.
"I was leafing through a book in the history section of the library the other day, and while reading, I came across a name I'd never heard of before. It was too interesting to ignore, but I couldn't find it in any other book."
Louis's face paled, as confusion appeared on their classmates' faces as a question mark was painted over their teacher, Natalia's, with a clear glare. "Okay, what was the name?"
"Peacock."
Louis's heart leaped with anticipation, studying the teacher's features closely and the interest that colored the faces of the others around the room after the title slipped from the blonde's tongue. She displayed a rare look of attention that was difficult to quell. Sam, for the first time, almost paid attention to something related to history. She was not a fan of old events at all
Astonishment seemed etched on the teacher's face, but she saw the eyes around her attentive with a listening capacity she hadn't had throughout the lesson. Deviating from the class topic was not permitted, but she didn't see any speeches without a little discussion of something different for a while. It wouldn't be easy to sacrifice everyone's attention, out of habit.
"The Peacock is the title given to a count who ruled the kingdom between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. There are no historical records of his existence, so many researchers considered him an untrue legend because he was not known by a name. Some suggested that he might have belonged to the previous royal family, but this was denied, as it was said that his family line was cut off with him because his wife did not bear an heir. Those who believed in his existence had conflicting accounts of his reign. Some said he was a tyrant, while others asserted that his era was the most just and prosperous."
"And why did they call him Peacock?" Sam wondered, filled with confusion and a touch of indifference. The teacher smiled and shrugged lightly. "That's something I don't know. Now, back to the Native Americans..."
This was the moment Sam stopped listening to anything but repeating what the teacher had recounted moments before. She glanced at Louie, who had taken the first seat on the left as usual, but that morning he had been completely distracted, especially after her question, which had aimed for a more detailed and satisfying answer.
"Are you out of your mind?"
She stopped in the hallway amid the hurried movement of students, caused by a strong grip around her forearm. She frowned incomprehensibly at Louie's blazing blue eyes. "What do you mean? And don't hold me like that." She finally blurted out, wrenching her arm from under his calloused fingers
"What were you thinking when you asked that question?
Do you know how much trouble we'd be in if anyone found out we were sneaking up on this floor in the evening?"
"Stop worrying, Louis. I was just curious. I'm not going to the library to rummage through all those books and volumes."
Louis gritted his teeth at her seeming indifference to the seriousness of the matter, but continued walking beside her down the hall, listening to her softly whistling, humming an old English song he'd learned but didn't recognize. "You're being so reckless, Sam. I can't believe I just went along with you last night and broke the rules so easily."
"All-time perfect student," she teased; he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't get carried away, Louis. It went well, and I don't plan on going back. Will you?"
"No! Of course not." He denied so quickly that she was startled, though he had already cocked his head before she could send a thoughtful glance up at his thickly controlled face. Sam didn't push the matter further when he didn't; as long as it was over for him... it was over for her as well.
Darkness took over the sky with an unusually cold gloom. The sound of the heavy latch of the ward door sliding captivated her body, huddled under the covers. Sam counted the minutes with her breath until the sound of the maid's footsteps fading away from the corridor. She carefully removed the cover and stood on her heels, slipping through the door under the pretext of going to the bathroom in case someone stopped her
She carried her flashlight under her robe and, barefoot, made her way through the dark halls, ready to let the superintendent or one of the teachers appear out of nowhere. She might have assured Lowe that she wasn't thinking of going back to that floor, but he knew better than to say that she wasn't good with promises, and she was just as bad at ignoring something her mind urged.
She had no connection to that Peacock Age painting, if that patch was real, but she was drawn to its aura, its magic, its mystique, to a degree that she couldn't shake it off. So, as she climbed step by step, she vowed that this would be the last time she would ever see it and the last time she would risk her good conduct certificate to her own curiosity.
She wouldn't give in to her own urges again
She climbed the stairs quietly, letting her flashlight merge with another light that stopped her in her tracks like a snowflake. The source wasn't far away; in fact, it was closer than she'd imagined. It emanated from the left side of the floor, where a curtain had been completely removed to the ground, and a spotlight was spotting the painting. Even in front of her, lost in its colors, she didn't notice its presence, which remained silent for several moments.
"And you were the one who made me feel as if we were going to be put under the gallows because of my question!"
"Guillotine." Louis spoke immediately. She shone her flashlight on him, but he didn't blink or move his eyes from the painting until she approached him so she could lie down, mimicking his position by folding her legs comfortably from underneath her. "It's called a guillotine. It was known after its use during the French Revolution."
"Oh my God," the blonde breathed in disapproval, casting her eyes back to the tableau that had been the reason for her presence in the first place. She pursed her lips in a look of clear, pensive attention, before gently craning her neck. "How many people do you think that Count executed?"
"Was he even real?"
Sam looked at him silently. She knew what was going through his mind because she had thought the same thing.
Why would history deny it when he had a painting in grease and paper on the school castle wall? Or was it just a random decorative painting that someone had left behind with imaginary information for whoever stumbled upon it to mess with? No answer could explain why the man in the painting looked so much like Louie.
Nothing logical would dispel their questions
"...I'm sorry I lied to you. I wasn't planning on coming here tonight." Louis resumed, his tail trailing for minutes, and he exhaled, lowering his neck for the first time, carrying an absent-minded tone. "But I couldn't sleep. All my attempts to not think about that painting failed completely, and I hated it. I don't like being unable to control things."
"Because you're a control freak."
It makes me superior." He smiled declaratively in response to her dogmatic comment; she hummed in a way that told him she didn't see it as a real concern. She always ridiculed him for being the type of student who was always first in class, who memorized lessons and wanted to be writers or teachers
On the other hand, she was the complete opposite.
She was a mess, which suited him. She was always late to class, stumbling in the middle of the hallway, and she was a party animal that couldn't be stopped those nights. Her greatest ambition was to graduate from school and become a good model or actress.
She didn't take anything too seriously.
Despite their contrasting personalities, they were close enough friends.
Louis enjoyed her company. She was reckless, clumsy, and mischievous, and she
gave him a lively atmosphere all the time.
While Sam was someone who hung out with everyone, Louis had found a parallel to her school life. His obsession with control helped her study during exams, so she never failed once. He sought to help her find her dream, which was being lost in her mind, distracted by the desire to just have fun.
"What is this?"
He flinched when she moved suddenly past him. Her flashlight swiveled to the left, where the crimson curtain had previously hung. Its light illuminated a small object dangling from the edge of the frame, pale but proud, with a cold presence that slid toward Sam's palm, which straightened as he too stood on his heels.
"It's a necklace."
It was a thin, gold necklace from which slid an ornate cross adorned with small gems, with a name engraved in the center. Sam ran her fingers over the letters, erasing them in a moment of calm. "Serafina. An ancient name."
"There's something attached to it." Louis gestured, picking up the feminine pendant, which looked like a precious work of art, to unlock it and take out the silver ring, which bore a blue stone that shone within it, and in the light of his flashlight, the letter L. They were precious jewels, surely worth a fortune, and he was shocked that they had left such things so carelessly under a silken curtain
"Would you lock it for me?"
He was startled from his contemplation by Sam's plea, and aimed his torch at her. She stood with her back to him, clutching the locket around her throat, expectant. He sighed deeply. "We shouldn't mess with these things, Sam."
"Don't be boring. I won't break it. I just want to try it, please."
Sometimes he hated when she used the word "please" when she wanted to go along with him in a way they would both later regret, and he hated when he acquiesced every time. He felt her shoulders relax when he closed the lock and the heavy cross lay across her neck, luscious and expensive. It must have dated a distant century.
"What do I look like?" she asked eagerly; his gaze snapped open to meet hers, glittering against his torch. He was thankful she couldn't interpret his gaze by the shadows as he smiled broadly. "Beautiful. You look beautiful."
You're beautiful. He wanted to continue, but stopped. Her lips parted in pleasure, smoothing her braided hair back and tidying her clothes before she picked up the flashlight from him with a lightness that left her perplexed as she left it on the floor.
"What are you doing?"
A gentle smile danced at the edges of her lips. She straightened up to take his grip, which had tightened around the silver ring and slipped it onto his finger, which was thin against his body. She held it in place as their hands interlocked, and her other hand crept up his shoulder. With his unsurprised look, she leaned gently towards his ear.
"Let's have fun for a while."