2
Samh 9.04.1342 18:22
In their private parlor, Abaledina sat chatting with her cousin, Jeanilotta. Abaledina’s fair complexion, chestnut ringlets, and blue eyes contrasted with the other’s black eyes and black hair and slightly tanned skin. She had lost her mother when she was quite young. Upon the death of her father eight years ago, the Gillfillian's had taken her in to their geodesic-dome-shaped fashionable and aristocratic mansion on one of the principal streets of La Soutain.
“The day he said he would return from vacation has passed—he should be here," said Jeanilotta, who was both older and prouder of the two. With that she flung aside the lace she was crocheting and went to the windowed wall, peering long and earnestly into the rapidly deepening twilight. “I have not even received a message from him since yesterday!”
“Calm down, Jeanilotta, you know it takes much time for messages to arrive from the moon. Plus, your parents have kept that filter on us despite that you have obtained the age of majority and that I shall be there next year. That horrible thing makes all our messages slower.”
Scarcely had she uttered the words, when both girls were startled by a loud message alert going off on both of their phones. The pleased look on Jeanilotta’s face told Abaledina the much-anticipated message had appeared. Glancing at her own messages, she noticed she had received one from Jeanilotta’s brother, Eriath, and a feeling of dismay settled over her.
“Listen, Abaledina, here is something mysterious!” Jeanilotta said archly. “Theodomani's description of this man he met on his trip will charm you.” At that point, she began reading the message from her fiancé:
“Our whole voyage has been the scene of a mystery. Among our fellow travelers is a man who has been from the first the object of intense curiosity. In person and character, he appears extremely noble, and it is rumored he is Lord Elwynalam, the Viscount of La Soutain, one of the head doctors for the Anorraq War Infirmary.
“Despite his high position, at times he charms and enchants us for hours in the main lounge with his delightful conversation, during which he completely develops each idea—so that after listening to him, we are strangely beguiled into believing that we have just mingled in highly intellectual company. He sometimes becomes a man of the world, and talks of its pursuits, its follies, its good and evil traits as one well versed in its ways.
“At other times, he is wrapped up for days on end in his own meditations and remains in his stateroom or goes out on explores alone, reminding us of some ancient powerful hero. No one is daring enough to inquire concerning his birth, and as to his history, he preserves a profound silence. He has conversed with equal fluency in several languages, so that it is a matter of much curious conjecture where he was born. But by far the most mysterious circumstance remains to be told.
“In Viscount Elwynalam's suite is a girl of some sixteen or eighteen years, a perfect fairy in dimensions, beautiful as Diana, whose large, hazel, melancholy eyes contrast strongly and beautifully with the expression of her clear sunny face. She has very dark hair, which she constantly keeps in pigtails—making her look much younger than she truly is. Lira, for we have learned that is the name of the angelic little creature, comes out once every day either for a tour or stroll, firmly clasping the hand of Lord Elwynalam, and closely attended by a duenna who never loses sight of her. If someone approaches him during this time, he engages them briefly but does not extend the honor of introducing the girl to them. After an hour's recreation, during which he devotes himself entirely to her amusement, he hugs her at the door of her stateroom, and locks her away there in the care of her attendant. Notwithstanding the almost infinite variety of feelings or emotions that mingle themselves during his interactions with us, to Lira he is ever the same: the embodiment of tenderness.
“He lands with me when we return to La Soutain, and I shall endeavor to present him to you then. We are expected to be detained at the port for several hours upon our arrival. Although I have enjoyed his society, being detained will be exceptionally irksome to me because I am devoured with impatience to bask once more in the sunlight of your smiles.
“Adieu, mon coeur. –Theodomani”
When her cousin was finished Abaledine glanced down at her own com-tab and was reminded of the yet unopened message from Eriath. Deciding it was best to peruse that in private, she swiped to the daily news and gasped.
Jeanilotta noticed her pale face and quickly asked, “What is it, Abaledina? Why are you so agitated?”
"It may—it must be a mistake,” Abaledina replied hastily upon realizing the trouble she might cause her dear cousin. Taking command of her warbling voice, she continued, “It is doubtless some other. Please, tell me the date of your message."
“Why it is from two days ago, the second of the ninth month. Why do you ask?”
“Ah, Jeanilotta, my dear cousin, you must gather your courage. I pray you," said Abaledina.
“What do I have to fear?" cried Jeanilotta, grabbing Abaledina’s com-tab from her and perusing the open news article, which she read aloud softly:
“Lost to space, on the 3rd of this month, from the moon base Thelxinoe V-1398, Theodomani Montrevor, a son of one of the wealthiest and most respectable citizens, as he was preparing to return to Samh. Every possible exertion was made by the gallant emergency crew to save this unfortunate young man but it was in vain. The intelligence was brought this morning, the 4th, by message sent yesterday.”
With the silent calmness of despair, the young girl sank lifelessly to the floor. Abaledina immediately rushed to ring the comm before lifting her unmoving cousin and dragging her to the divan. The girls’ twin servants, Adela and Luna, rushed into the room, and seeing one of their mistresses unconscious, began to shriek, which drew in Jeanilotta’s parents.
Abaledina frustrated with the uselessness of the servant girls, rushed to their shared dual bathroom and grabbed some smelling salts and a cold, damp washcloth.
“Send for a doctor,” she commanded Mr. Gillfillian, looking directly at him. This broke his senselessness immediately, and he shot out the door to find aid. Mr. Gillfillian continued to make herself unhelpful and leaned over Jeanilotta in speechless anxiety, incapable of the least exertion, and generally getting in the way, while Abaledina, assisted by Jeanilotta's maid, Adela, used every means to restore her to consciousness.
The physician soon arrived, and after shooing the mother away, was able to make some progress. Jeanilotta was finally aroused but sat weeping and refused to respond to any questions.
“I am afraid she may develop temporary insanity due to whatever shock she has received,” he said grimly. At which point, the parents turned to her to discover the source of her distress. After cautioning them against saying anything, she showed them her com-tab and the article that was the source of Jeanilotta’s agony.
No comments:
Post a Comment