Interlude 3.2: The holiday at home
Returning to one of our family mansions throws me back into that life. I'm used to the luxuriousness, but being so close to him again gives me a headache. Our relationship isn't distant; Mother used to say I'm most like him in nature.
But I don't see it. I spent my childhood in tears, expressing myself on paper, but I lacked his charm. The intonation that dared challenge the old head even though the youngest, it would take tremendous bravery to stand between Sir Lucian and Sir Michael.
The only similarity I can find...
"It's quite early. Assuming your absence won't stir things up at the Apothecary's territory, have you handled the calm workflow of your request?" Father initiates our rare conversation. Our dinner is a private affair-just us two. It's still the 21st, thus the absence of brothers and sisters who eavesdrop at every given moment.
Servants dine in another wing; our conversation belongs to us alone. Steak and red wine—predatory fare, the meat charred medium-rare, thyme butter unsalted, flavors as rich as the reddest blood.
"My superior hasn't caused any trouble. The usual workload from my overtime request should suffice?" I reassure him, stressing the importance and secrecy of his clandestine operations. Best kept quiet, only a few may know.
"You haven't reduced," he cryptically comments. "But we've lost too many pawns. How will you replace them, especially for my coming of age?" A hint of dissatisfaction. His greed caused the incident. I have no retort; the candle extinguishes in discord.
"I foresaw their downfall, knowing my words held little weight. Your ambition comes at a cost, Father." Restrained within his seething rage, a modicum of patience. Like salt in sweet treats, there are boundaries we won't breach.
"Nevertheless, some of your goals have been achieved with the cheapest, dullest pawns. Not the sharpest tools, but the cheapest lives to be brought," I chuckle wryly, my cold demeanor unwavering.
Devoid of mortality, and valuing nothing, our conversation is shared between like-minded allies—the skewed patriarch and his successor, hounds guarding a closed paradise.
The world is like a grand dining table, where saints and sinners alike are mere dishes waiting to be served or garnished.
“It seems I've misjudged your facade. Still the same as before, which I'm glad about. But don't get too attached to something so trivial,” he said, finishing the meal with a wipe of his handkerchief. It felt like this might be the last time before the whole gathering dispersed.
Over the next few days, he seemed to avoid me, as he often did. I didn't pay it much mind; some of the family members I got along with quite well.
Ludwig, the oldest son, roams the world as a free spirit. He was once an outsider due to various family affairs and old disputes. Despite being of the same generation as his father, there's a secret adoption in the family tree.
A writer and traveler, I rarely see him except during reunions or this Christmas feast. He's got a kind soul and a pacifist's heart, though his physical presence is quite imposing—a gentle giant drawn to peculiar things.
Oddly enough, the twins Jeremy and Aubrey have devoted their attention to Ludwig’s creations. Finding common ground in their conversations, which makes the three of them closer than others may intrude. I won’t interfere with their creativity and wondrous worlds through sheets of paper.
Jeremy and Aubrey are Father’s precious pieces on the chessboard. One renounced her experiments with poisons, focusing instead on extracting serums that save lives, while the other seems to be a military expert with a penchant for winning battles.
Their antics always bothered me, with explosives and whatnot around the mansion. But as long as they kept their experiments contained and didn't cause any real harm, I had no qualms against their creative endeavors.
The 22nd ended with a lively bonfire, an unusual sight without snow. It warmed not just the temperature but also the bonds between family members, metaphorically speaking. Yet, what do I really understand about their lives and intentions?
The next day was chaotic, filled with chatter about the location—Kendrick. With nothing pressing to attend to, he decided to arrive early for the first time in years. The paparazzi's flashes followed him until the gates of the property closed behind him.
Vain and steeped in an extravagant lifestyle, his attitude toward those he deemed lesser was the worst of all. He treated them as insignificant specks of dust and showed no respect for his elders. I couldn't help but think that tempting fate so eagerly might eventually lead to an inevitable clash with Father's temper.
Before the evening dinner, another couple arrived—my sister Rose and her husband Matasyn. Some said theirs wasn’t a political marriage, but I couldn't believe it. When she claimed to have fallen head over heels for someone so quickly, despite her being closer to the plants she conversed with, I was genuinely surprised.
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Matasyn came from a family or lineage blessed with genius minds, which facilitated his journey in the "project," bearing his family name. Rising to the head of education seemed effortless for him—a jack of all trades with no specific specialty, yet he easily garnered votes from the council.
He chose to marry my sister, a botanist with no connection to his passion or shared interests. I'm not judgmental merely due to differences in interests or love, but something felt shady that I couldn't quite discern.
Despite that, she appeared happier than before...
Dinner became a messy affair with conversations between a burning star and a singular black hole of interest. Father was the first to leave this ridiculous façade, and soon after, I followed suit. Thus ended the night of the 23rd.
The morning of the eve…still no sight of Gabriel, he wouldn’t be this late. Remyne apologized properly for being late because her ride was overbooked. Out of the kindness of her heart, she volunteered to be the one on the next trip possible which was two days later.
“Mikhail, do you think the blizzard was too cruel this year?” Remyne’s question flinches me out of my concentration state. She has always been like this nosey…and properly the most kind of our sibling.
“It would have been, did something happen at the airport?” I asked her out of courtesy, maybe she found me pitiful without interacting with any of the siblings. Which I admit to be somewhat true, as my personality toward this family has always been cold and distant, or rather fearful of those I share blood with.
“Oh nothing, I have observed most one sitting about in the cold leaving port which made my heart ache quite much,” Remyne says with a pitiful tone. Quite a generous can say. If I can comment anything, she wasn’t cut out for this life.
Her heart is too big for someone this important, but his wrath is rather unhinged when someone touches upon those she cares for. She has Mother’s mingling romantic nature but possesses Father’s wrath.
“You should have left them be, not offering some strange drugs, Remyne.” Arian appears out of nowhere and joins in. I haven’t heard of his footsteps, that is unsettling.
Working as a judge, his work is rather indirect. The judgment is rather a two-edged sword, which he used against those deemed guilty by his mindset. If I recall correctly, those deemed guilty will always be ridden easily with or without law. This makes me curious why he chose to be a judge anyway.
“She has always had a big heart and the drugs have always been tested and administered first before disturbing so it wouldn’t be morally or legally wrong.” I refute his judgment to let things die down. Can’t have bloodshed in these holidays.
In the afternoon right before the important feast, Cammy and Gabe ride in a military trunk back home. Quite uniform…I envy the bond they have as the firstborn and the lastborn of the family. They look more like twin more than what I and Gabe shared…it’s a bad time to show my envious side for now.
No matter then, their presence completes the nonsense feast we are having. With classical music, the twelve important individuals of the main branch of Godfrey have arrived.
Sariel Godfrey, the lone patriarch; Lambert Godfrey, the heavenly artist;
Cammy Godfrey, the unyielding commander; Arian Godfrey, the upright scale;
Rose Godfrey, the earth whisperer; Matasyn Godfrey, the loathsome genius;
Remyne Godfrey, the kind medicine; Kendrick Godfrey, the shinning star;
Aubrey Godfrey, the silent poison; Jeremy Godfrey, the passionate gladiator;
Mikhail Godfrey, the heartless successor, Gabe Godfrey, the brave frontier.
The feast begins with a long prayer for the future, then an offering to God. To burn at the ground of Godfrey does Father say the long traditional vow of the Godfrey. From the first to now, only the head of the family can say words.
"From this moment until the end of time, we pledge our allegiance solely to the Divine above. We vow to hold humanity close, guided by heavenly virtues, yet ever aware of the clutches of vice. May our sins, scorned and burning, endure until the sky pillars with fire." An ancient chant with words resonates until this very day.
After the offering to the family bonfire, we start the banquet. It is a cumbersome celebration but it ends well. Though we have nothing to share but blood, it’s still calming that we don’t have to go through another holy war of annihilation like the previous generations.
All I need right now is a glass of champagne on the balcony for the not-wintery night. The bell rings to celebrate the birthday of the north star, and so does the end of darkness which envies to the point of genocidal.
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[Paradiso bar, Saudade, Wyoming]
[Daniel Morgenstern POV]
Christmas Eve, huh? Working all year round in this not-so-shabby bar is entertaining enough. The town dies down these last few days with most people coming and going like tourists. Mik must have quite an influence, even more than he ever gave the credit to.
Good devil, how much I attach to the little guy and his bottomless alcoholic tendencies. Cousin or not, it’s still admirable how the whole business doesn’t break his spirit. Even so…
“It’s so unlike you to pay a visit to Paradiso, Mayor Apothecary…or rather that called you Andromalius?” Quite an expected guest, maybe something at home doesn’t work as he intends…most likely the first and second battering after coming home.
Poor guys, some old fashions to chug down, and yet his sorrowful face remains. But I am going to give the old man some credit, not all would chug down those cocktails and shots of whiskey that easily.
“Young master, how much you want to stay here anyway? Like a few years or a whole rest of your life like I am.” Sharp bastard, saying what needs to be said already. Forcalos was right about having the guy be an assassin, though it was needless to say about his brute strength and honesty…
“What? Scared that I will bring the whole thing here? I won’t you know. At least not with my cousin here.” Another answer, another glass of alcohol; he looks to almost enough right now. Sobriety is a remedy for liars and anthesiacs for truth-tellers.
“Still, it’s a little sad really. I mean I appreciate that his pridefulness brings me something to work with here but…” Trialing off, still keeping a close eye on me; he doesn’t take the last shot with glee, which means he is ready to be shut up.
“We stand here at the mercy of Godfrey, though he looked to be a kind one. I can assure Mik’s actions are necessary in all things. You haven’t been deemed useless for now, Andromalius.” Assure the old bastard and lead him outside to his car…well, I can let the whole pint on me for now.
I guess, it would be time to revisit my family. Maybe the earliest arrangement, how many was it..I lost count of the damned day that I came, a cigar would be fine now.
Just for now
The end