Fearful Reunion

Dessert was served recently. It was crepe with a bowl of chocolate ice cream that had chunks of fudge in them, and there were wafers sticking out of it to be used as a spoon should one fancy a lavish serving. Shiny spoons are available for use, in case the diner ran out of wafer to eat with.

The Saverio family were currently talking about what Isabella had been up to prior to Charles’s return. Something about her fancying someone from another town and how her brothers have planned to meet him just to see if he was suitable. She denied them from doing so, throwing a warning at them should they go anywhere near the guy. 

“... You might as well focus on the spooky dolls in the woods. You can spend a whole afternoon burning those,” she said.

“But sister,” said Stanley, “it is such a dreary chore. We’ve burnt enough creepy dolls in these woodlands. Let your brothers have some fun.”

He wasn’t interested in the rest of that conversation. His eyelids felt so heavy, that it managed to get Charles’s attention.

“Hey Ross, you alright?”

He nodded, forcing a smile. He really wanted to lie down and doze off, but he could hold it off until the conclusion of dinner.

“I would like to head off and rest too,” said Cassandra, as if she’d read his mind. “We’ll return to our rooms together.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Saverio. “You deserve a rest after a long journey to the castle. If you require any assistance, inform the nearest servant and  they will have your concerns resolved.”

Well that was better than what he had planned to do. With their thanks uttered to the family, the two left the dining room. They didn’t realise how sharp the silence was until after the doors had shut behind them with a resounding snap. It was still. So still, that they could hear the other’s breath at Cassandra’s arm length.

The trip back to their rooms was calming. Footsteps echoed in a fixed rhythm as Roslan matched his pace with Cassandra’s. Occasionally, a breeze from the windows brushed past them, carrying the laughter of the family to them, as if they were beckoning the two to return and be merry.

“Thanks for pulling me out of there,” began Roslan. “I thought that I was going to have to sleep in there.”

“So was I,” Cassandra yawned, taking a quick glance behind her.

That was the end of their conversation. There was no hurry back to their room, so they were allowed to lounge about anywhere that they want. But Roslan didn’t have plans to lounge in any part of the castle or explore it, other than to return to his room, have a nice shower, and sleep in.

He decided to test if the outside was still cold. It still was, surprisingly. Cassandra had a good chuckle over it, asking why he had done such a thing.

“I just wanted to see if it’s actually pleasantly warm inside or not. I didn’t think it would still be freezing.”

Though unsaid between them, they were taking the opportunity to familiarise themselves with the layout of the castle. They would pry a door or two every now and then to check on the contents of the room. Most of them simply led into more corridors, and neither were interested to go down the rabbit hole that was this castle.

Knowing that he wouldn’t bump into anything, Roslan kept to the centre of the corridor with his eyes shut. The perfect moment to let his mind wander to the plans he had in this town-

“Who’s that?”

His eyes snapped open. Though brief, he saw what Cassandra had seen: a vanishing tuft of dark grey.

“That was a tail,” she added. “Did the damsel mention anyone else in the castle?”

“She said she’d come alone.” With bounding leaps, he arrived at the corner… only to find no one.

Just another empty corridor.

He tried to find anything that seemed out of place, but by the time that Cassandra caught up to him, he still couldn’t find anything. There had to be something, an explanation for what they had seen. It’s not normal to see a vanishing tuft of dark grey in the evening hours in a castle.

“Do you think it was a ghost?” she said. She was peering in the same direction.

“Have we seen one in this castle yet?” he replied.

She shook her head. “This one looked corporeal.”

Was it? They’ve met their share of corporeal-looking ghosts in their lives, and most of them don’t realise that they’re dead until you stick a hand into their torso.

Neither dared to move. They exchanged a glance, searched the corridor for clues with only their eyes, then exchanged glances once more, as if to tell each other that they have found nothing out of place.

She perked her heavy brows, as if to say, “We should ask Charles about this in the morning. I’ll drop dead asleep before we find anything useful.” The way that her fingers gently touched the bone of his shoulder informed him that they should be on their way.

He pouted, but gave in, following her. His eyelids felt heavy too. But something about this bothered him, something that he wished he could shake off. Something about the corporeal ghost felt familiar-

Familiar.

He paused at the doorway. Familiar. Like the movement he’d seen at the turret window at the top of the castle.

Glancing to his left, Cassandra wasn’t at the door to her room. Instead, she was at the door to the corridor behind him, peering through the gap, as if to check for signs of activity.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Just making sure,” she replied, cupping a yawn. “Do you think that Eliza would encounter something similar?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Should we wait till she brings it up before we share our experience?”

“It’s better that way. I don’t want her to assume that we’re desperate for a mission. As if we want one on the first night of our vacation.”

“Do you think that someone could be spying on us?” he asked. “I can’t think of any reason why they would spy on us, however.”

A concerned frown stretched across her lips. “I wouldn’t jump to such conclusions so hastily, Roslan. Let’s call it a night. It’s been a long day for us. We’ll discuss more in the morning.”

She entered her room and shut the door with an audible turn of the lock. He did not move, eyeing the closed door to the castle corridor, wondering what the entity could be up to. Maybe he could take a peek to check if the corridor was clear?

That’s when he heard the turn of the lock and the opening of Cassandra’s door, poking her head out. “I can only hope that it is unlike the presence that spooked your guardian on your educational trip,” she said. “I know it’s only half past eight, but we should call it a night. Don’t let it keep you awake. I know that you’re sluggish and cranky when you don’t get enough sleep. And I get sluggish and cranky when I don’t get enough sleep. Good night.”

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight to you too, Cassie.”

With a nod, she shut the door with an audible turn of the lock again.

He wished he could snoop around to uncover the identity of this flighty stalker. Just why were they spying on him? The possibility that this stalker isn’t the same as the one he saw at the window occurred to him, but he shook it off like how he shook off his clothes and into his pyjamas. That would only raise more questions than answers.

Before he flicked the light switch, he looked out of the window. There was no moon.

So he welcomed the darkness into his room, shutting the windows, locked them, then drew its curtains over it. Navigating in the dark wasn’t as difficult as most would make it, slumping onto the bed with the pillow perched above his head and the blanket pulled over his face. Sort of like setting up a tent.

That was a bizarre way of describing the way that he sleeps.

~ R ~

It was dark. Not too dark, but enough to see an aurorean outline on almost everything in his room. He tilted his head up to find the headboard of his bed. To his right was the desk where he left his wallet, phone and bracelet computer. Looking down was the closet, where his luggage laid next to with his backpack leaning against it.

The morning chill shivered him when he casted the blanket aside. It wasn’t nippy, unlike what he’d felt last night, but it was enough to almost make him take the blanket and use as his cloak. Only by parting the curtains did a bit of warmth enter his room.

He bathed in the sunlight. He’d only moved because of the grumbling coming from his stomach.

That was his cue to fish for his towel and change of clothes from his luggage, along with his toiletries. No one was in the bathroom, but he didn’t want to take his sweet time. He expected to find Eliza or Cassandra coming out of their rooms when he got out, but neither girls could be seen.

Which suited him pretty well. After dumping his clothes and towel into a wicker basket in his room, he grabbed his devices off of the table and dropped the keys to this room into his pouch.

Now to make his way towards the dining room for breakfast. 

Despite being on a holiday, the group didn’t have many events planned. Everyone was simply allowed to do whatever they want. They could roam in the forests surrounding this castle. They could dawdle in Laghsotti. Or they could take a train that goes to a seaside town and spend the remainder of their two weeks lounging in a beach house until it was time to return to Pei Ning.

However, Roslan had little energy to spend on travelling a great deal. Reaching Laghsotti was all that his jet-lagged body could handle. The lethargy was still present, just not as strong as it was when they finally touched down on this country.

He had a few plans. They mostly consisted of locations that captured his imagination, like bookstores, museums, galleries at the national museum (which he’d been to once but could not explore every room), and maybe a couple of festivals other than the main event.

Stanley ought to know a thing or two about the bookstores he’s planning to visit. Charles can drive them there in his place. Come to think of it, does Charles have a driver’s licence in this part of the world?

While he pondered over the possible fines should they be caught without one, a tap on his shoulder made him jump and turn around. It was followed by a giggle, one that he wasn’t familiar with.

It was Isabella. She had the look of someone who had successfully pranked a friend at the playground, skipping merrily around him so that she may lead him to the dining room.

At least, that’s what he thought.

He bid her a good morning, forced into a jog as to keep up to her pace. “Is Stanley up yet? I’ve got to ask him about the bookstore’s opening hours-”

“He’s already left for work,” she replied, doing a quick pirouette to make eye contact with him. “But I do know that the stores do not open so early. It is best that you go after half past nine; that’s when most stores have opened for business.”

He glanced at his phone. It’s only half past six.

“Are there any other locations that you are interested in?” she asked, slowing her pace to match his.

“That’s really it. I could check out the local museum or library, whichever is available.”

“Boooooooooriiiiiiiiiiiiiing.”

He stifled his laugh. “Really now? Then what are your plans for the day, Lady Isabella?” 

“A livelier one than yours, I should say. I have a gathering with my friends to attend before to lunch, then I shall ride a train with them to another town. Whether there will be shopping or loitering or both, I cannot be certain. But we shall return before sunset, just in time for dinner at home.”

“And that’s it?”

“That is it. It is more fun than yours, do you not think so?”

“I think it sounds boring.”

“How dare you.” She skipped ahead till she was in his path, blocking his way, leaning forward with hands on her hips and a pout on her lips. “I’m telling my brother that you have been mean to me.”

“You called my love for books, vessels of knowledge, boring. I thought that we were insulting each other’s interests.” He struck a pose to point at an invisible book that only he could see, unable to contain his grin. “Is that not fair?”

They remained this way for a while, until she burst into laughter. He joined very quickly, having failed to maintain his composure.

Only when she had regained hers did she say, “Oh, how I have missed your jest. Come, let us hurry before my brother pushes everything into that abyssal stomach of his.”

And so they resumed their journey, conversing about the other activities that they would do today that doesn’t involve finding new books or getting away from Laghsotti. That was how Roslan found out that she was hoping to catch one of her favourite bands at a performance in a shopping centre, where she hoped to get an autograph to add to her collection.

As for Roslan? He thought he could get away with visiting a few bakeries to find a decent meat pie to chow on. If he couldn’t find one, then berry pies would do. If there weren’t any berry pies, he can always resort to a good sandwich.

“Nothing can go wrong with a good sandwich,” he added.

“Do you plan to eat less for breakfast, because you are aware that you have put on some weight since we first met?”

“Look, the sandwiches here are better than what I have at home. Isn’t that the same reason why you’re going out of town to catch that band?”

She glanced at the arched ceiling with an arm across her body. The other appeared to be working on an invisible calculator, trying to find a solution to his question.

“I believe so?” she concluded. “Look, we’re almost there. Cease this conversation now before I opt for your blood instead of an ordinary breakfast.”

“I thought that you were on a diet?”

“I can cease it momentarily.”

The way that she looked at him was unnerving. He hoped that she was only joking. She has to be kidding, right? Right?