20

Tiv

Wednesday 7th February, Year 825

I poured another glass of whisky from the bottle I'd stolen from Father's liquor cabinet. He had sat me down, told me my Mother was dead then without so much as an 'Are you alright son?' left to go who knew where and hadn't come back. Whisky was the least he could do.

I sat undisturbed, even by Meredith who obliged me when I asked for space, in Mother's office staring at the family photos on the wall. My favourite picture was the one of Mother falling over as Beau tackled her; it was unskilfully taken by Meredith on Marco's sixteenth birthday. Mother's smile was wide. There would never be a new photo of her again. There would never be another smile.

I wanted to be numb yet a prick in my eyes forced me to pinch the bridge of my nose. My phone vibrated on the leather-top desk. I lazily raised my head, wiping the hot tears from my cheeks with my palm, and read the name.

I did not know if I could talk to anyone. Not even her. Yet she has never failed to cheer me before. Reluctantly, I took the call.

"Hi," I whispered.

"I'm so, so sorry about your Mum," Alayna murmured.

"How… What? H-has it made the news already?" I stammered.

"No, your Dad is here," she answered. "I just needed to know you were okay. Well, I know you're not okay but I just thought you should know I was thinking about you. I mean, I didn't want to make things worse. I'm sorry. How are you holding up?"

She continued to ramble as my silence stretched on. Alcohol had made my head spin and it took a moment to register her words.

"Did you just say my Father was with you?" I enquired.

"Yeah, he got here about ten minutes ago. I think he just wanted to let my Mum know in person. She was close with, um, yeah…" She did not say my Mother's name.

Father hadn't gone there to the Jameson residence to break the news. If he had, it was very uncharacteristic of him. However my burning curiosity in his behaviour quickly turned to ash as I looked once more at the photo of my Mother.

"Thanks for calling. I needed to hear your voice." It was the truth. Even now. Even after this, Alayna still made a difference.

"Is there anything I can do?" she whispered.

"Your call is enough. You brighten even the darkest days," I admitted.

The phone was abruptly taken out of my hand. I spun around on the office chair to see Marco holding it with a vicious expression.

"Hello darling," he spat venomously down the phone.

Alayna's response was a short one.

"You didn't think leeching off one of us was bad enough? Listen you desperate little parasite, we want one fucking evening free of you," he spat maliciously.

I stood to grab the phone off him, however for every step I took towards him, he took a step away, holding his arm out so I could not approach him.

With one final shove at my shoulder, I dived for the phone and within a fraction of a second Marco launched it across the room. I turned in time to watch it bounce off the solid, metal filing cabinet and explode into useless scraps. He lurched quickly as I turned to face him, his fist connecting with my stomach with a dull thud. The air seemed to be knocked from me and I gasped as I fell to my knees.

"You've spent every waking moment with her since the moment I told you she was off-limits," he yelled.

Alayna is off-limits.

It had been one of the first things he had spoken when he found us alone together. Right in front of her. Though she would never have known; we hadn't spoken Vakosian… I wish I had just told her everything. Then she would have never gone near him rather than trying to placate him.

Kneeling at his feet, I knew all the while that this had been inevitable. There was little point in defending myself against his allegations. I simply had to wait, hoping that after his rant he would leave me alone. He was our Father's son.

"Mother's gone now. She can't protect that nasty rat when I call the Guard this time. I hope she got as much satisfaction from damaging my car as I will from watching her hang."

Shocked, my head shot up to meet his furious gaze. Had he really just said that? With a crushing blow harder than his punch, it hit me that it was his intention to have her killed from the start because she had rejected him. My shock was immediately replaced with fiery hatred as I grabbed his legs and pulled as hard as I could until he toppled over backwards. He landed on his spine and his back seized into an arch. I jumped up, towering over him.

"You made a bet on getting laid, you disgusting excuse for a life! She is a human being. Not an animal you can torment because you did not get your own way!" I yelled, the words streaming like molten lava. "You had less than one date with her and all of a sudden she is your property? It's laughably pathetic! Your damaged ego should be the last thing on your mind right now! Have some respect for our Mother!"

Turning to walk away proved to be an egregious mistake. Peripherally, I caught the blur of movement as Marco lunged. Twisting, my body tensed as his momentum crashed into me, propelling me backwards into the hallway wall with forcible impact. It buckled under my weight, sending pictures crashing to the floor. My fists pummelled Marco's ribs in a futile attempt to get him off me. It didn't work. He smashed his fist into my face and my nose crunched; hot blood trickling over my lips and chin. More anger erupted inside of me and I wrestled him to the floor, pulling down the table beside us. I was robbed of the opportunity to break his nose as sudden, strong arms appeared around us both, pulling me away from the monster. The chauffeur, Fletcher, had Marco. Fletcher's iron grip restrained him while another set seized me. I struggled unsuccessfully to get free; apparently I was not done fighting. Then a new pair of arms wrapped around me: Meredith's.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, "Think of Mother—she would be devastated seeing this!"

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

My body came to an abrupt halt, guilt-stricken at the look on Meredith's face. Marco pushed past Fletcher and limped away—a sight that coaxed a grim smile despite the throbbing agony in my face.

"Sorry," I panted unevenly.

Eric, head of Father's security, loosened his grip on me, giving me a stern look.

"Tivvy, what are you doing?" Beau said.

She stood a mere stride away; upon seeing my battered state, her innocent expression crumbled into shock and worry.

Oh no.

The sting in my nose and the salty taste of blood were stark reminders of a reality too harsh for her young eyes. Marco and I were both as bad as our Father.

"Meredith, let me go please," I urged gently but firmly until she released me.

Approaching Beau with careful steps, I lifted her into my arms; she burst into tears against my shoulder.

"I'm absolutely fine, princess. We were just playing," My voice wavered unconvincingly as I held back a grimace from the sharp pain flaring through me with each breath.

"You a frightful state, Tiv," Meredith whispered behind me.

I passed Beau into Meredith's embrace; her cries dimmed to soft whimpers which tugged relentlessly at me.

"Beau, I'm going to wash up. You can go with Em into your playroom," I said.

She didn't reply.

"Honestly Beau, don't worry. It's just tomato sauce, see?" I wiped my finger along my cheek and put it in my mouth, sucking the bitter taste of iron and salt from my finger. The taste of the blood seemed to jar my senses, making the room haze momentarily and I stopped my body from convulsing with a violent shudder.

What a pointless idea that was, you complete arse.

Yet Beau smiled feebly, nodding and wiping tears from her face. Meredith carried her away giving me a hard look. There was no doubt that she was not yet finished with me. Sighing, I looked around. The hall had been destroyed and was covered with debris and clutter. Father would combust if he ever bothered coming home. I wandered into a guest bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Meredith was right; I was a frightful mess. My nose was about an inch to the left of where it was supposed to be and three times the size it was supposed to be. It hadn't stopped bleeding yet. My bottom lip had been split in two and my ear was also bleeding which explained the ringing I could hear—it took me until then to notice it. Worse of all, my scalp was raw and bleeding with clumps of hair missing from it.

"He pulled my bloody hair out!" I complained. "Prick."

I continued to mutter other obscenities only to be disturbed when Meredith came back.

"He is just angry about Mother. Now sit down and I shall see if I can do something with your face."

I sat on the edge of the freestanding bath. She took a damp flannel and opened her black leather handbag, removing some vials of coloured liquid, applying them to the flannel and dabbing it to my face. It felt like she'd taken pepper spray to my skin. I pulled away from her violently and she gave me a warning look.

"Keep still," she ordered.

I pouted like a child and sat back on the edge of the bathtub. Meredith continued dabbing my face with the liquid which was somehow frozen and on fire simultaneously. She was not gentle.

"Ouch, Em!" I groaned. "Is this you punishing me for hitting him? Because he deserved it."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation yet spoke softly, "Nobody deserves what you have just done to your brother."

"He intentionally told the Guard about his car because he wanted to see Alayna hang," I barked.

She stiffened, "I shall talk with him."

I scoffed, though if there was anyone in the world Marco would listen to, it was probably her. The notion didn't stop my ranting, "He's a psychotic, imbecilic child, throwing punches because he wants one of my things."

"She's a person," Meredith scolded.

"It was bloody figurative," I barked.

"You stink of whiskey," she continued to reprimand.

"Oh, be quiet," I grumbled.

She eased up with the flannel, "It's been a tough day for you both. Tempers are running high."

She always excused our bad behaviour.

I sighed, "Sorry, Em."

"Tempers are running high," she repeated.

She was being a lot more lenient than I expected. Taking advantage of the mercy, I moved on.

"Father is at the Jameson residence," I said, remembering a conversation that felt like a lifetime ago.

"I know. Nate Jameson just called. I was coming to tell you when I found you trying to rip your brother in half. He appears a lot worse for wear than you. I think you have broken his ribs."

I smirked, "Good."

She narrowed her eyes and I pressed my lips into a hard line.

"The next few months will be hard Tiv. Mother was an amazing woman. Make her proud. You need to set an example for Beau and that starts with you not beating our brother to a bloody pulp. Beau is so very confused. We must help her. We must be a family."

I looked at the floor and said nothing.

"Your Father instructed me to make preparations for our move to Lambent ahead of Mother's funeral. I need you to-"

"We're going to Lambent?" I interrupted.

It was a moronic question; of course we were. I knew Mother would have to be buried with her people just as I would one day have to be buried with them. Vakosians did not approve of us being buried on their land, no matter how long we'd lived in Vakoso. In fact, they didn't approve of people being buried at all in case the Umbrith tried to unbury them… I had hoped for more time before I was forced on what would inevitably be the worst holiday of my life. I sighed wearily.

"It must be done," Meredith said in Lambentian.

"Are you ever going to tell me how you know our language?" I asked.

"No," she answered shortly. "Now go to Beau and comfort her."

"Em, tell me where you lived before you lived here." I had asked her the question a thousand times. She always gave the same answer.

"If I remembered any of it, my darling, I would let you know."

Meredith was an enigma and was happy to stay that way. We knew nothing of her life before our family and if Mother did, she took the secret to her grave. I knew barely any Vakosians who spoke Lambentian, only my Father seemed conversational. It was seen as a language spoken by those who imprisoned Vakosians. Meredith had only let slip she knew it after Marco ridiculed her to her face and she scolded him for it fluently. We had suspected her for years because our secret conversations never remained secret around her. Though it was proof she did have a life before us, and she could remember it.

I went to leave the room and caught a glance of myself in the mirror. I didn't understand my reflection. All of the bleeding had stopped and the marks on my face looked nearly a week old, not ten minutes. My nose was still not in the right place but the swelling was gone, my black eye was also faded. The cuts on my nose and cheeks were basically healed. Though sadly my hair was still missing in places.

"How the fuck did you do that?" I gawked incredulously.

"Language," she scolded before she shrugged jovially and said, "I have had plenty of practice with wonderful medicines. Now do let me know if your ear gets worse. We will need to go to the hospital."

"Are you a familiar?" I knew it was a silly question. She wasn't. Yet what she had done to my face was supernatural.

She gently placed her hands on my cheeks and with one snap of her thumbs, she cracked my nose back into its correct position.

I howled.

"Perfect once more!" Meredith smirked. "No. I am not a familiar. I simply purchased some Venenum from one as a painkiller for a headache."

"What's Venenum?" I asked, still staring at my reflection in awe.

"A healing potion dear. You should pay more attention in your Health classes. Now go and comfort your sister."

At least I looked relatively normal now; that would make my cover story for Beau more plausible.

What an awful night.