Who Would Do Such Reprehensible Acts? The Aristocrats! - How Evil Spreads

[One Thread in a Tapestry]

“You sing very well.”

“Thank you!”
“It’s not that good, but it passes the time.”

For the first time since he arrived, Lyric was smiling. Their tiny choir, singing songs with no lyrics, treating
their voices like the littlest church organs brought such levity and calm to Lyric it became easy to forget where he was. Music just had that kind of effect on him. Suddenly, he was not so scared of tomorrow, not so uncomfortable in the dress, not so stressed about feeling exposed with his uncovered face. He didn’t know how to harmonize with them, never really singing himself, but so content to listen. His shoulders had come down a bit, the tensity leaving them, as he looked to the woman in his company with expectant glee. Alas, it wouldn’t last.

“I think it’s a bit late.” Elerda chimed, picking herself up from the trio. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.” Clementine was quick to respond, springing up from the couch effortlessly and quickly wheeling herself around it, even beating Elerda to the relatively small bed that they apparently were expected to share. Was that normal? Three women sharing one bed? Though, before she crawled in, the
youthful blond looked expectantly at Lyric. “Coming?” She asked, even giving the spot on the bed a pat as if to invite him.

To that Lyric’s smile wavered a bit. Not out of being upset with her, just a little unsure. “Um, no, that’s okay. I’m not sleepy.” It was true. He didn’t really sleep unless it had been a long time between his last meal, and frankly… He never shared a bed with anyone before.

“Aw, you sure?”
“He said he’s not tired Clem.” Elerda spoke, moving past her and climbing onto the bed, taking the spot closest to the wall. “Try not to wake us if you decide to come in…” She muttered as she settled in, turning away from them onto her side.

“It gets really cold in here at night.” Clementine forewarned, seeming to realize she wasn’t going to convince him of anything but still concerned as someone who clearly knew better. “Coming, Jess?”
The mute woman, still on the couch, shook her head.

“Suite yourselves.” Clemetine said, crawling into bed herself right next to Elerda. She made a little show
out of brushing the gap in the bed beside her, pulling the blanket up over herself but letting it remain
‘open’ where he was preparing. “If you change your mind, you can come in right beside ME, Lyric.” With a clearly amused expression on her face she coyly watch him for a reaction, but, Lyric would not
quite play along.

“Aha, thank you…” He said, still unsure if it would be a good idea. This dress was not meant for laying down, clearly, and he wasn’t about to try redressing himself while they were all awake. It would surely happen eventually weather he liked it or not… But, for now, while he still had a say in the matter, he wouldn’t be budging.

Without another word, the two in bed settled in and got comfortable, leaving little more than a sudden quiet hanging in the room and the tiniest sound of burning ashes as the fire did what it could against the cold. As they seemed to have resigned themselves to trying to sleep, it slowly dawned on Lyric that it was just himself and Jessabelle, the mute woman. He hadn’t been giving her too much attention all this time, the other two being far more talkative, but not that he was ‘alone’ with her as the last people awake, he realized how odd she was. Mainly, the quiet. Could she talk at all? When they were
harmonizing, she had been singing with them…

Atleast, he was pretty sure she was.

Lyric blinked and, in a moment of realization, caught himself. Had he been staring at her? She was silently looking at him through her messy dark hair, saying nothing, just meeting gazes from opposite ends of the couch like mannequins posed to be awkward teenagers. How long had he been staring quietly like this?

A normal person might feel obliged to break the silence, start conversation, but the sudden frog in
Lyric’s throat silenced any such attempt. Why did it have to be like this? He wrenched his gaze away, breaking eye contact to shatter the spell, and instead forced himself to look around for any little thing to
do so as to not stretch out this torturous social pressure any longer. Surely, if he made himself a tiny bit
busy, he would be able to justify his possibly rude quietness in front of the lady?

That’s when he noticed a book, sitting atop one of the dressers.

Perfect. Lyric liked to read, and books were always so educational and captivating to him. Without a word, he pulled himself onto his feet and daintily walked over to it, snatching it up and looking at it’s cover, conscious of the two in the room trying to sleep.

Bound in heavy leather, Lyric quietly brought it back over to the couch, letting it down onto his lap before pulling open the cover onto the first page. ‘On Philomel van der Aart & The Gilded Lily’. Huh. Lyric began to read through the opening pages, silently eyeing over the words before turning to the next page. Becoming engrossed rather quickly, the quiet setting allowed him to surrender himself to the book, idly ignoring his surroundings as he read along with increasingly eager interest.

That was, until he caught something in his periphery.

The sudden realization that Jessabelle had somehow not only gotten next to him, but was trying to look at the pages too, startled Lyric so badly it nearly bounced out of his lap, catching the book as it’s spine
stretched with the aches and pains of the sudden jostling, the page’s binding string audibly creaking.
“G-Goodness-!” Lyric exclaimed, the stutter allowing him not to burt out too loudly. “You scared me!”

She looked at him with surprised eyes, but otherwise, naturally, said nothing. The high of the moment was quick to pass, Lyric adjusting the book in his lap anew and collecting himself. This was unexpected behavior, at least to him. Maybe she liked to read?

“Did… You want to read?”

To his surprise, she nodded. Naturally, Lyric closed the book, and held it out for her. He observed as she
daintily took the rather heavy thing, pulling it into her own lap. Upside down. And opening it up, she peered into the pages… Starting from the wrong end. Watching her, it was slowly dawning on Lyric.
“Do… You know how to read?” He asked quietly, still mindful of the volume of his voice.
Pulling her wide eyed gaze up from the book back to him, she lightly shook her head. She had no idea how to read, and frankly, Lyric could tell. Still, the fact that she said yes when he offered told him she atleast wanted to be able to. Why else would she be so interested?

Momentarily letting this whole scenario mull about in his head, Lyric gave a conceited little sigh. “Would
you… Like me to read it to you?”

She nodded.

Alright, well then! Lyric held out his hand again, the woman handing the book back over to him where he promptly reoriented it into the right direction. “Ok.” He muttered, feeling a little funny over this. He had only ever read to children before, but this woman was an adult whom he’d presumably be spending a good deal of time with as long as he was here. Still, with how silent and inanimate she had been since he got here, seeing her eager was sort of endearing. Besides, he loved to read. As he opened back to the first page, she leaned in as if to follow along. Noticing this, and knowing she probably didn’t know what she was looking at, Lyric took his finger and put it on the first word, reading it aloud enough for just the two of them to hear so she could follow along with him. “In the city of Radasanth, what began as a simple collection of brothels would in time become the center of a powerful faction called the Gilded Lily…”

Lyric went on, reading through the pages and following his words with his finger, the mute woman beside him watching as listening as if taken by a spell until before long he was already catching up to where he had left off. It was an interesting historical recounting, at least he assumed it was. A story about the Gilded Lily and it’s leader named Philomel, who would go on to do incredible things, even raise their own army and own a pirate ship with the pirate king. It was all so fantastical, Lyric was as engrossed as Jessabelle as he read this (Admittedly shaky at times) retelling that it was difficult to tell if it was truth or fiction.

It was kind of inspiring to read about these larger than life people that were out there in this world. They
didn’t feel real half the time, like it didn’t make sense for such incredible deeds from such amazing people to exist out there while at the same time his miserable little corner of existence existed at the same time as them. These stories were like fables… With legendary weapons, overwhelming magics, and the people overcoming all odds.

Briefly, very briefly, he wondered if in some imaginary future, he could ever hold a candle to them.

Before he knew it, time had escaped him. He had been reading for so long, it took the feeling of something wet on his shoulder for him to pull away from it and turn his head, surprised to see Jessabelle not only resting her head on his shoulder, but asleep and drooling on him. The fire had mostly burnt out, the dimmest of embers giving what little light and warmth they had to him. Suppose, it really was bed time.

He shifted a little, the closing of the book shaking Jessabelle awake enough to not open her eyes, yet lift
her head. She scooted back a bit, sleepiness on her face, before promptly laying herself down onto the couch and curling up… With her head landing squarely onto Lyric’s lap.

Oh. This… This was fine. Lyric set the book aside, not wanting to crease the paper to hold his spot. He hated when people did that. If needed, he could find it again. Besides, in the weirdest way, he had found some small bit of kinship with the oddest one here. Jessabelle’s clear desire to want to read was admirable to him, and though he was no teacher and she wasn’t going to learn to read in a day, getting to share his own love of reading with someone was quite the experience. It brough back memories of the inn, where he worked as scribe before his damnable condition sent him running away again…

Without a word, and the discomfort of being so close to someone else rapidly fading, Lyric resigned himself to ‘sleep’ but shutting his eyes and doing his best. He wasn’t hungry enough to need a nap, being an expert at resisting his vampiric urges at this point, and could do what he did best and keep himself company within his own head as he took to daydreaming away all the worries of tomorrow…

He would need it for what’s to come.