The Game - Part 7

I was staring out at the sun drenched garden from my room, decompressing from a few hours in front of the canvas.  It had been a few days since I'd checked our secret place.  If I were honest with myself, I'd say I was scared.  Would he be upset that Chelsea knew?  Since then, a few others had guessed – my expressive face giving me away again.

I sighed and bit the side of my lip.  I should check.  Without thought that my clothes and parts of myself were covered in dried paint, I made for the door.  I rushed through the corridor into library.  

When I reached the shelf, I paused, wiping my hands on my pant leg, I grabbed the tome and opened it.  There sat two slips of paper.  Taking them, I replaced the tome and went to the nearby chair to read.  

Dear Sera,

My dear, your painting was extraordinary.  You were able to create a picture that suited my choice of poems perfectly. 

It was in studying your painting that I felt the desire to share with you whom I mourn with the poem. It was my dear Didyme, my beloved wife who passed away many years ago.  Even now as I write her name to you, I am astonished with my openness.  I have never spoken of her with anyone. 

Our little game, my dear, has brought moments of joy into my life yet again. It is with that thought that I am able to say with a clear mind that I am not bothered that our secret may be out.  It was an impossible dream to think we could keep this to ourselves. Honestly, there are no secrets between my brothers, so have no fears my dear, I have no desire to end our game no matter who stumbles on to us. 

For my next gift to you I have chosen to send you on a journey.  I have enclosed another map of my own that will lead you some of our most treasured items.  There you will find a painting that I most interested in hearing your interpretation. 

Enjoy your journey my dear... 

Sincerely,

M. Marcus

I went through so many emotions as I did.  Pride that he so loved my work; sorrow for the man who had lost someone so dear to him; confusion that he said 'many years ago' when I had heard he was a young man; relief that he was not upset that our game was out to some; excitement on the thought of an adventure, this journey for treasured items; and curiosity about the painting he wished me to see.  

Glancing at the map, I noted the first instructions as I ran out the door.  Making my way back toward reception, I followed a path past the throne room door and around a corner off the kitchen.  Another few turns had me in a hallway with three doors.  The instructions indicated the door to the left.

As I approach, I wonder what this room is that he has led me to.  I knock lightly, in case someone was there.  Hearing no answer after a moment, I enter and look around, the door closing behind me.

It was an office, a very large office. Dark woods set with wine and gold fabric covers the room, but what really stood out was the multitude of books and art that filled the room.  My eyes traveled over each piece, recognizing a few, before they rest on the large painting on one wall.  My breath hitched and I raised a hand to my chest as I stare in awe at Botticelli's Primavera.  

I stumble back a few paces, bumping into the desk and knocking something over, but I don't turn to look what had fallen.  My eyes are glued to the far wall, traveling over the painting.  I'd seen it before, in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, but how was it also here?  Was it a duplicate?  I walked slowly toward the painting.  Coming to a stop in front of it, I reached out my hand.

“What are you doing here?” an icy voice startled me from my reverie, causing me to jump and snatch my hand back from the painting.

Spinning around, I see Alec standing in the doorway.  “Jesu, you scared me!” I said breathlessly.

He just stared and seemed to growl before asking again, “What are you doing here?”

I falter, wondering what to say and how much to reveal.  “I…”  I look at Alec, feeling a bit apprehensive at his demeanor.  “I was, um, just...looking at the Primavera.”  I waved my hand at the painting and swallowed nervously.

He seemed even more upset as he growled out, “Get out of here and go to the throne room NOW.”  He shouted the last word before turning and leaving the room.

I stared after him in shock, my mouth slightly open.  I wondered if maybe he’s testy because his leg is bothering him.  Either way, should I go to the throne room like he said?  If I do, what do I say?  ‘Hi, I was naughty”?  But I really wasn’t, not technically, since I was following Marcus’ instructions, right?

I sighed, confused.  Maybe I can find Pia and ask her what to do.

With a last glance at the painting, I leave the room and follow the map back to reception.  I didn’t see Pia around and wasn’t sure where else to look for her, so I went to the throne room door.  I felt a slight breeze as I approached, but figured it was my nerves over the scene to come.

“Merde,” I muttered under my breath.  “What did you get yourself into now?”

I took a deep breath, raising my hand to knock on the throne room door.  After a moment, I heard a voice call to enter, which I did quietly.

Looking around the large room, I noticed Aro from Lydia’s pictures.  But it was the man standing next to him that really caught my attention.  Marcus.  He looked exactly as he had in the photo Lydia had shown me.  I couldn’t draw my eyes away as they traveled over his form, taking in every detail. 

Everything after that was a bit of a blur.  There was a lot of confusion.  While Marcus watched me, he never spoke to me.  Meanwhile, Aro was asking me questions about why I was there.  While I tried to explain Felix, Pia and Alec entered the room.  Alec still looked angry about something and made me apprehensive. 

I could barely focus on the conversation with so many things going on – finally seeing Marcus in person, meeting Aro, getting creepy vibes from Alec, and a convoluted conversation that I still don’t know what happened.  At one point Aro got upset with me and I worried over his reaction as well.

I was almost relieved to be dismissed and sent with Pia to her chambers.  Tears pooled in my eyes as I glanced at Marcus one last time before leaving. 

I followed Pia silently, my thoughts awhirl as the tears threaten to fall from the overwhelming emotions within me.  As I speak with Pia, she asks what happened and I explain briefly, without detail, our game.

A tear falls as she warns me against getting so involved.  Then she asks me how I feel about him and I do my best to explain, asking her how she knew about Alec, her love for him.  She explained that she just knew, that she missed him when he was gone and was happy when he was around. 

I had just mentioned Chelsea’s declaration when Aro entered the room.  He proceeds to ask me if I like it at the castle, then informs me that if I wish to stay, I must stop what I was doing with Marcus immediately.  What else could I say?  I agreed and left as soon as possible, which thankfully wasn’t long. 

Tears streamed down my face as I made my way to reception.  I didn’t know why I was going there other than it was where Aro told me to go.  I certainly wasn’t dressed for it as I was barefoot and covered in paint splatter, but at that point I didn’t notice.  All I knew was that it seemed I was to have no further contact with Marcus and it felt like it was breaking my heart.

The Game - Part 6

I was standing at the large window in the living room, staring out into the darkness, when inspiration hit.  I flipped on lights and ran to change quickly. Exiting the bedroom in paint stained jeans and t-shirt, I set up the piece I was working on earlier. I took out my paint and utensils then placed the poem from Marcus in a safe spot where I could read it as I worked.  It took hours, but I finally finished and left the painting to dry.

Again, it was the letter that took longer.  I wanted the wording to be just right, so it took me a day or so to write.  It was when I finally thought I had it right that something happened.

I was at reception and a couple of the girls were talking about something or other, I can’t remember what.  My mind had drifted to Marcus, wondering about him – who he was, what he was like, why he was so interested in my sketches, and a million other things. 

Chelsea noticed the expression on my face and asked me about it.  I just knew I started blushing and tried to brush her off, but she persisted.   Bien merci she had to go before she could get very far.  I breathed a sigh of relief, but she threatened that we would talk about it later as she walked out the door.

The next day, I was still putting the final touches on my letter to Marcus while sitting again at reception.  Chelsea came in and immediately bombarded me with questions.  I did my best to deflect her, but she is a persistent little lady and figured out that it not only had to do with a man, but who that man was!

She then insisted that I was in love with him!  With Marcus!  Why I never would have thought such a thing before she said it, but now…*sighs*…I don’t know what to think.  I barely know him.  We’ve only exchanged a few notes and I’ve never even met the man.  I do know what he looks like thanks to Lydia.  She was exclaiming about Master Aro one night and showed me pictures of the Masters. 

I’ve asked around about him, as discreetly as I could.  Although I suspect I’m about as discreet as a drunken tourist on Bourbon Street.  The most I can get out of people is that he’s quiet and kind.  Lydia mentioned that he seems sad at times and I remembered the poem.  Is that why he was so sad?  The loss of whomever it was that he had loved so much?

I had the painting tucked securely in a scroll case.  I grabbed it, the letter, and the small map I had drawn and went to the library where I left the letter and map in the tome.  A trip to the garden was next to hide the scroll case.  

While I hoped Marcus enjoyed his painting, I was agonizing more about how upset he would be that Chelsea had discovered part of our secret.  I was also still processing her exclamation of love.

Dear Master Marcus,

I can’t say how much that poem moved me, cher.  And I’m sorry for whoever it was you lost to make the poem so personal for you.  I know what that can be like. 

I lost Mamere last year and it still hurts knowing I can’t just call or visit whenever.  But she taught me something, a lot of things really, she was a smart vielle (old woman) with a lot of fire and I loved her for that.  If I can be half the woman she was, I will die happy.

But listen to me ramble…  One of the best things she taught me was in the form of a Cajun proverb:

You can still find the joy of life no matter how hard your life may be.

I tell myself this every day and it helps keep the smile on my face, even when the sadness comes with my memories.  I cherish the time I had with her and I know she’s up in heaven giving the angels hell in her own special way.  Someday, I’ll join her, at least I hope.

So to help you commemorate whoever you’ve lost, I’ve tried to show you the beauty in the sadness, so to speak.  I do hope you like it.

And since this gift won’t fit here, my dear elusive Master, it’s your turn to go on a treasure hunt.  (Map enclosed.)

Love,

Sera

PS – I know we wanted to ‘keep this between just us’, but Chelsea started asking questions and she guessed something is up.  I think she knows it’s you.  She didn’t say your name, but she’s pretty sure, it seems. 

I’m so sorry.  I hope you aren’t upset and still wanna continue our game.  I’d miss you if you didn’t, cher.