Tuesday, December 17, 2024

The Viscount of La Soutain (4)

 4

Samh 9.04.1342 20:00

 

As the evening wore away with the Gillfillian household in a complete uproar, the little Swienzean clock in the girls’ parlor rang out in musical notes the hour of 20:00. Immediately after, there was a slight bustle in the hall with rapid questions and answers, incoherent exclamations, and hurried footsteps up the stairway. Suddenly, the door burst open, and the same Theodomani, who all were mourning after reading the news article, stood there alive. His short, dirty blonde hair was tussled from travel; his black-rimmed glasses kept slipping down his nose in front of his slate eyes. His build was between slim and muscular. Like his hair, his beige sweater vest was askew, and his navy pants wrinkled.

He sprang to the side of the sofa where his still insensible fiancée lay gulping air between broken and stifled sobs. Forgetful of all ceremony, he wrapped her in his arms.

“Jeanilotta, what’s wrong with you, mon coeur?” he murmured as he wildly kissed her jet-black hair. There was a slight stir, and Jeanilotta’s eyes focused on him. The mental cloud began to fade as she recognized and embraced her love.

“But how?” she was finally able to articulate. “We thought you were dead. Tell me everything!”

Abaledina pulled an ottoman next to the sofa to hear the tale better.

“Ah, yes!” replied Theodomani dramatically with a slight shudder, putting all his theatrical training to use. “It was a terrible moment. I don’t think I can explain its horrors well enough to make you understand the experience.”

“Then it’s true that you drifted into space?” asked Jeanilotta feebly, her lips growing white.

“True—yes—to an extent, mon coeur. Surely, you see I am here in the flesh and not just a spirit?”

After he gazed deeply into her eyes, he stood and stared into the distance for a few moments before continuing, “It was entirely an accident. I had decided to take one last tour the day we were to return home. Sadly, it ran late, making it necessary for all of us to exit the hoverbus as quickly as possible so we would not miss the ship home. In the crush, someone shoved me from behind, and my helmet bumped into the top of the doorframe, causing my head to bounce inside it. As you might expect, this knocked me out cold. I was later told that I began floating into space with your name being the last thing on my lips.”

Here, he paused dramatically and slowly raised his hand as if it were him floating away.

“For some reason,” he continued, “the emergency crew had difficulties with their gear, but Viscount Elwynalam, whom I wrote you about, retrieved me before any of them could.

“When I awoke, I found him nearby and unconscious on the moonstation floor,” saying this, he pointed at the ground as if the man were lying there. “Emergency personnel attended him. Apparently, during his attempt to rescue me, the air he was using ran out. He almost lost his life to save mine.” Theodomani clasped his hands to his chest. Abaledina struggled to keep a straight face at the overly-dramatic display, but Jeanilotta watched the performance enraptured as he continued. “Using the most incredible exertions, he succeeded in reaching me at the last moment and bore me in his arms toward the moonstation, collapsing near enough for us to be easily rescued.

“On the trip home, when I went to express my gratitude, he replied without the least excitement. ‘I need no thanks; the act was trifling. It will be a source of joy to me, and I shall no doubt find your life to be one worth preserving.’ He didn’t wait for any further gratefulness on my part and quickly left me.” Theodomani retook his seat next to his love.

“Ah, mon coeur! I am so impatient to introduce this man to you,” he said.

“Did you say it was the Viscount Elwynalam!?” Lieutenant Gillfillian exclaimed. “You had that distinguished of a passenger on the Antiby IV?”

“Yes. If only he honors me with his continued friendship,” replied Theodomani enthusiastically. “He is someone to admire. His life is wrapped in profound mystery, though. There is no record of his birth or childhood in Anorraq. His servants never gossip, and he is perfectly impenetrable.”

“Is the Viscount married?” asked Mrs. Gillfillian.

“It is impossible to say,” replied Theodomani. “The child he was with seemed much too old to be his natural child but perhaps a little young to be his wife.”  

“We must seek his acquaintance. It will make a brilliant connection for us.” Mrs. Gillfillian said to her husband.

Abaledina was unsettled by the almost wicked gleam she caught in her aunt’s eye as the woman gazed at Jeanilotta.

“We will seek his friendship for its own sake,” her husband replied. “We must at least thank him for so nobly risking his life for a stranger because that stranger is so dear to us.”

“You are absolutely right,” his wife cooed. “We must throw a ball celebrating Theodomani’s safe return and honoring Viscount Elwynalam for saving him. Propriety demands it!”

“You may be correct. I trust I can leave it to you to plan?”

“Of course!”

The cousins performed their evening toilette with the sliding doors open so they could converse. Tonight, Jeanilotta spoke of nothing but Theodomani’s return from the dead, which satisfied Abaledina. She wanted to keep her thoughts to herself.

“I am still not quite feeling myself,” Jeanilotta complained after she finished getting ready, collapsing theatrically on the bed. “Abaledina, would you mind being a dear and getting me something for my head and some seltzer water from the kitchen to ease my stomach?”

“Of course,” the younger girl replied and hurried to the kitchen.

On her return, she passed the drawing room. Despite the late hour, she heard voices through the slightly ajar door.

“He’ll be our guest of honor. I’m sure that he hasn’t married.” There was a pause, and then the voice of her aunt resumed. “It’s such a shame that Jeanilotta is betrothed already.”

At this, Abaledina stopped in her tracks and frowned, trying not to make a sound as she listened.

“Although Theodomani is from possibly one of the richest families in the city,” her aunt continued, “he has absolutely no title and is without government or military position. Since he is only from a family of entertainers, he has no chance of ever obtaining one. It’s not quite the match I had hoped for, but Jeanilotta is young and believes her heart matters in these things.”

Abaledina blushed and hurried on her way. She could not decide whether the blush was from her realizing the impropriety of her eavesdropping or embarrassment over her aunt’s shallowness.

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

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