Terribly Lottey

  Chapter Five

  Visel. Visel. Visel. I like his name. Visel. Visel.

  And I think someone is jealous of Visel. Last night, Ryse and I had stepped outside so we could breathe for a few minutes while all the drinking and smoking was going on. Actually, I had stepped out first, he kind of followed. He’s been doing that quite frequently, come to think of it.

  “I don’t think you really like it here,” I told him to break the silence. It shattered into a million pieces.

  “No, you’re right,” he figured.

  “Then why are you here?” I said, not demandingly though. Never demandingly.

  He didn’t meet my eyes. “There’s nowhere else to stay here in Branch.”

  That was true. But I had it in my head that there was a reason. “Ah. So where were you before?”

  “I was staying with some of my fellow workers in the streets.”

  “That would get cold,” I absentminded.

  I felt him nod. It was a little dark, but a flickering street candle-post thing made our faces glow a bit.

  “Uh– Lottey,” he was wanting to say something. I could tell. “You know that man I saw you with at the dock today–”

  “Visel?” I said quickly, happily. “Oh, yes, he invited me to dinner and gave us free fish. He is just so generous and wonderful, and–”

  “Lottey,” Ryse looked suddenly and violently worried.

  On my behalf? Why would he do a thing such as that?

  Oh, I knew he was jealous. His face lined with the stress of losing me to another– I could see it, feel it, and it made me glad. I had never courted before, I had never really toyed with boy’s feelings yet, but I had it in my head how to do it correctly. “You don’t have to worry about me, Ryse, I’m a big girl,” I smiled.–

  His face was a little contorted. He looked confused, and still vexed. Or worried. Or are they the same thing? “It’s not what you think. He’s not what you think. Do you even know who he is?” Now he looked disgusted.

  “Visel.” I stared at him with wide eyes directly in his eyes. I wanted to let him know that I was grateful for–

  “Is that his name now? He’s a–”

  I put my hands to his lips. “I’m sorry, Ryse, you know how grateful I am for you…” I wanted to kiss him to thank him; I had never kissed anyone and I wanted to know how. I leaned forward and put my lips on his, but as soon as I did he put his hands on my face and pushed me back. He put his hands on my shoulders, as if to hold me back.

  My eyes flew wide and I didn’t know what to think.

  He had a wild look about him now. He looked confounded, annoyed, and as if he were about to embark on his ignoring streak.

  I wanted to calm him, but I was afraid to touch him. I was afraid he’d bite me or something.

  So I said, “I need to go back inside and work.” I held my skirt daintily and went back into the kitchen.

  And I must say, that was a strange happening. But today is today, not last night, and tonight I’m going to Visel’s mansion to sup and be merry. He is the best thing that had ever happened to me; I am given breaks, Lia and Cook pet me and Lia even let me skate across the tables. I will have to thank him a million times over. I know he will be so glad he decided to favor me, for I am a very good person to favor.

  If Ryse is jealous, why doesn’t he just come out and say so? I know that we’ve pretty much dreaded each other’s existence since we met, but sometimes things changed. I know that I stopped hating him when I realized that he had nice features about him, and, well… that he’s awfully nice to look at. If he noticed the same things about me I’d love to know. Perhaps he’ll steal my book again and read it so he’ll know that he doesn’t have to be shy. But he also has to know this– I can’t be with him, because I could never be in love such a lowly person. He’s nice sometimes, and thoughtful sometimes, but, hmm. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. So I’ll just stop. I must get ready for dinner soon– it takes me a long time, after all. I wonder if peppering the hair is in fashion here?

  “The escort is here, Lottey,” I heard Lia holler at me.

  My stomach was a mass of knots and tangles butterflies that were still in their cocoons. I was nervous and excited– after all, I’d never been courting, especially not with such a dashing and older than me man. If, in fact, this was to be considered courting, and not just a friendly gesture.

  I hurried out to the street and found two horses– one with the escort on it, and one with no one else on it.

  I immediately gasped and got dizzy. This was to be my death.

  “I can’t ride a horse, sir, I don’t know how. I really don’t know how.” I wanted to say, and I don’t ever want too!!!

  “That’s no problem, miss, we’ll leave this horse here and you can ride with me.” He seemed nice enough; middle aged, scruffy little beard. He was a stocky fellow, but looked strong enough.

  But that still meant I had to ride a horse. He wouldn’t let me die, would he? He wouldn’t make the horrid beast go fast, would he? I began praying so hard that I didn’t even hear him when he said, “Here, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up.”

  But I realized, with his hand waiting for mine in midair, what he meant. I was careful of my dress, which wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world; a little old. But it was still better than any of my work clothes. I had scrubbed and shined and powdered my face to perfection. I knew just how scrumptious I looked at the moment.

  And I hoped I would look just the same when we got there.

  The whole ride I kept my eyes closed, until I realized we were out of Branch. There were no street candles around or any dogs barking, I only heard crickets.

  So I opened my eyes. After all, nothing had happened to me yet.

  I saw a big, dark, looming building in the distance. “Is that–” I said.

  “Yes, milady.”

  I missed being called milady. The sound of the word filled my up with my old self to my ears. It stopped at my ears because I had forgotten to scrub them while I was washing my face. The old me was never ever dirty.

  I gazed at the mansion. It looked more like a castle. Was Visel royalty? Oh, my dream, being a princess with a million servants to do all of the dirty work. It meant even more to me now that I knew the meaning of dirty work.

  The sky was so high up, but as it got darker and darker it seemed to be falling on us. I wanted to touch it. But the blackness looked creepy, as if it would burn my finger and chew the bone. So I stayed absolutely still.

  When we came upon the castle is saw it’s moat and it’s draw bridge and I was growing franticly anxious– in both a good way and bad.

  “Is he the king of Branch or ParKesh or something?” I asked breathlessly.

  “No, milady. The castle has been passed down through the family.”

  “Ah,” I sighed, almost relieved. If he were a king, and I angered him, or was too stupid or too dirty– I didn’t want to die! So I was glad he was simply a rich and debonair man.

  But, he did have guards at the door. He was a very rich and debonair man.

  I was led to the foyer where I was left. It was a dark and mysterious place, and I didn’t like being alone. I wanted Visel to hurry and greet me.

  “Ah, Miss Rose,” he sounded so ecstatic when he finally did.

  “Please, it’s Sharlotte,” I batted while he kissed my hand. I wanted to giggle for an hour or two but I held it in controllably. “You have a magnificent castle,” I offered sweetly.

  He bowed. Oh, he bowed!!

  “Won’t you come with me?” He offered me his arm.

  I took it, entering a reverie.

  His dining hall was so magnificent I nearly gasped and fell to the floor. The ceiling was so high up I couldn’t even see it. The chairs looked as if they were all modeled after thrones from thirty different countries. There were two places set: the head of the table, and to the right. Visel and I.

  I think it looked nice.

  Sitting with him
at his marvelous table I felt as if that looked nice too, the two of us together.

  The silver wasn’t silver at all– it was gold, so bright and glorious, and were so heavy I was afraid I would end up dropping them. But, after all, I hadn’t forgotten my Devingrole manners, whether they were mine to remember or not.

  The first course was brought out, and I tried my hardest to hide how badly my mouth was watering.

  “You look eager,” he said, smiling. He always had some dashing facial expression about him.

  “Oh, I do,” my happiness faded in an instant. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Oh, I like eagerness. I favor eager and sharp girls,” he winked. “So…” he took a bite of juicy lamb. “You work at the boardinghouse? Hardly a suitable place for a woman such as yourself.”

  Oh, was it? I didn’t know… being in town was so much different than being simply where Mansions were close to each other and everything was green. I didn’t know what to say. Do I ever know what to say? “What can I do? There isn’t much of an option when I’m the position I am in right now.” I tried to act pitiful. I believe it worked.

  “Oh, yes, I suppose. It’s dreadful, poverty; I should like to help everyone I can.”

  So, was dinner just a friendly gesture? Was it charity?!?

  “Would you like me to help you?”

  “If you think it wise.”

  He chuckled and pointed at me with his fork. “You’re witty; I like that.”

  So, now I have three describing words beyond my name?

  “You’re the first person that has ever told me so.” Oh, the food was so good that I hardly realized what I was saying. But, of course, on the other hand, the conversation was so juicy and pleasurable that I hardly tasted what I was eating. “I do appreciate your hospitality,” I noted, sounding rather grown and professional.

  “Ah, hospitality,” the word made him smirk. “You are the hospitable one.”

  I could feel just how confused I looked.

  “Your beauty and charm is such a relief in my life,” he explained. “Every day I work and sell fish and make money, but I have never really spent time with a lovely woman.”

  He called me woman. Had he done that before? I cannot remember. I just know that I like being called woman instead of girl. I was, after all. “Is your flattery as deceptive as it sounds?” I smiled.

  “No,” he laughed. “It is sincere.”

  “Then I like it,” I said, taking another bite. My, am I conniving? It must come naturally.

  “I hope so.”

  We ate in silence for a few moments. But even the silence– I could soak it in and feel its wonder. It was the most excellent and unsurpassed silence I had ever been submerged in.

  I couldn’t help but notice the arrayed collection of antique knives and swords he had hanging everywhere. They were really very old, I saw, and remember thinking how they must have been passed through the family for a long time. I also saw the gilded mirrors, which made me leap a mountain over inside, and through them how dark it was. I had never really seen it so dark. But oh, the gold, everywhere! Everything I could see looked valuable. And that brought a question to my mind. “Is the fishing business really so profitable?” I asked.

  “I,” he started. I waited for him to finish, but he didn’t.

  I nodded hugely and found another topic. “Have you no family to share this gigantic castle with?” I am very afraid that it sounded much differently than I had anticipated. I hadn’t meant to sound childish. Or as if I were trying to deceive him into asking me to marry him.

  Although, wouldn’t it be nice?

  “My family,” he said, as if they were another topic altogether. “Oh, I haven’t seen them in a while. I had no siblings, and my mother died so long ago. My father was a ruthless creature with quite a temper,” he smirked, as if it were very amusing. “He left me here with his business when I was seventeen. Been all alone since.”

  I was afraid to ask him how old he was now. I didn’t want to spoil the enchantment.

  “My,” I said attentively.

  “Yes,” he said. “We have that in common.”

  “All alone?” I asked. But he was right. I didn’t know any of my family; he didn’t knew where most of his was. That was nice to think about.

  The second course and desert went by as if it were a leaf in the breeze, just as gentle, too. I don’t even remember what they were.

  After dinner he took me out onto his veranda. Everything I could see for miles and miles, a very long ways, was black. Even the trees and bushes looked brittle and burnt.

  I asked him why.

  “I’m not sure. I suppose it’s just the ParKeshan country land’s way to be,” he said.

  I liked his reasoning. And it made sense, too. I couldn’t think of any other reason.

  I looked at Visel when I realized he was looking at me. More like, gazing. It made me uneasy. For a moment I wanted to be back in my Devingrole mansion with my mother downstairs explaining that I was too young for this sort of thing.

  But I didn’t believe that!

  I was older than I seemed. I felt it, and I looked it, and it was so.

  “Such a moonlight complexion,” he grazed his finger along my cheek.

  It sent a shiver down my back. I think it was because I was nervous. I had never been the center of attention anytime out of my not-family.

  I yawned as big as a tiger, and could do nothing to conceal it.

  “Oh, you’re tired!” He exclaimed warmly with a smile.

  “It’s awfully late,” I explained.

  “That it is.”

  I stood on the marble floor of the beautiful balcony waiting for him to say he would send for the escort to take me home.

  But to my alarm, he never did.

  He just said, “There’s no way you could make your way home in this darkness.”

  “Not by myself,” I said quickly. Whatever he was concocting was very confusing. Maybe he would take me himself?

  “Perhaps you should stay overnight,” his voice was deep and happy.

  But his words made me cringe. “I…” that was not suitable at all. Me? Unchaperoned in an umarried man’s house all night? No. That was not good.

  “You really don’t think I could make it on my own?” I asked him, trying to hint at my not liking the idea one bit.

  “Are you really that brave?” He said, and it seemed taunting, especially when he smirked so deviously.

  But how dare he think that I am a coward! I am not a courageous warrior girl who runs the woods at night barebacked on her favorite horse with a bow and arrow in her hand, most definitely not, but now that I had been introduced to the real world and dirty work I was sure I was capable of more than dress designing and whining about my hair color. And I was very, extremely frightened at the prospect of being alone with him all night. I would not sleep, especially in this castle he had– it was as if it were designed to scare away passersby. It would certainly scare me a couple hundred feet out of the way if I were on a journey and came across this place.

  “Of course I am that brave,” I protested bravely.

  He raised an eyebrow in conquest.

  I felt taken. In fact, far, far away–

  “I understand if you’re so set on leaving me so soon, but if you would stay longer I would love to show you around,” he offered with a refined smile. His voice was low and mockingly contemptuous.

  I didn’t know his temperament. I didn’t want to rile him, or make him angry either. I was frightened enough as it was without him turning red and strangling me. Would he do that? So I took an extremely deep breath and hoped it would last me the night.

  “No, that would be wonderful, really; I was just getting a little anxious.” I looked up at him with hopeful eyes. Would he read me correctly?

  “Well, don’t,” he answered good-naturedly.

  I took his arm again and we began our tour.

  A rush of cold air hit my face as we reentered the ca
stle from the balcony. I didn’t want to feel it. It made me so chilled that I’m afraid I held his arm closer– but it made him smile. My voice box dropped to my stomach and made it fluttery and sick.

  He took me to armory where he showed me even more sharp things than I had seen in the dining hall. And everywhere we went the ceilings simply got higher and higher. I began feeling smaller, too, and the smaller I got the bigger Visel became. He really seemed to enjoy showing his humble home off to me.

  “I suppose you don’t get many visitors?” I asked gently.

  He sighed deeply, seeming to enjoy being overdramatic. “No, I don’t. Yes… so I apologize if I seem forward in wanting to keep you here; I mean, it’s all good intentions I have. But it’s not often a guest comes all the way out to my home, and when one does, I don’t want to let her slip away,” his expression was warm.

  His warmness traveled through his arm and comforted me somewhat. I did feel better after he said that, I still was on edge. Just the loneliness and emptiness of the place– even the servants, which I don’t remember seeing more than two, didn’t even seem to be there.

  “Do you… like my house?” He asked me as we passed through his inside garden.

  I bit my lip and asked myself the same question. “It’s different,” I accentuated. “It’s very exotic and creatively different.” I didn’t know what else to say without either hurting his feelings or making him mad, both of them I have yet to do.

  “Mm,” he said loudly as he examined my words. Then he smiled. “You don’t like it.”

  I giggled at his accusation. “I didn’t say that!” I exclaimed.

  “Ah, but you felt it,” he pointed out.

  In one moment I had realized I had let my guard down– and for some odd reason it was so easy to do that around him. Visel. Even his name sounds so murky and mysterious.

  “Shall I clap my hands and order it to be less frightening and more cheery?” Visel suggested. As if he had read my mind.

  “Do you ever stop looking happy?” I asked.

  He considered. He concluded in a wondering face and a shrug.

  Because: even when he talked about how terribly his life was and lonely his home was he never once stopped smiling. I can’t help but write it a million times: he said, smiling. Smirking dashingly and mysteriously. Grinning mischievously. Chuckling with a debonair look. Was it some secret way of make a person feel more relaxed? I would think that something so unnatural would make one feel tense– but it didn’t.

  We continued strolling, peeking through various rooms such as his library and his ballroom, which was so eerie that I could almost see ghosts dancing as if they hadn’t stopped in centuries. Then I heard a clock that rang louder than anything had heard before: the sound went into my ears and bounced off my skull. I stopped abruptly. There were eleven bongs.

  “Is something the matter?” Visel asked, as if he didn’t know.

  “It’s even later.” He knew I need to leave. He knew I wanted to leave. And yes, of course I felt sorry for him not having much company, but he would have any ever again if I didn’t make it home. People across the land would stand aghast in their steps and hail me a martyr. That is, if anyone remembered I was here.

  “Oh, dear,” he said, with a true and genuine frown. He dropped my arm.

  I felt as if I had just shed twenty pounds from my body followed by a blow to the head. “Is that a problem?” my voice was mousy and barely audible.

  “You can’t leave.” He said it so simply. Visel made it seem as if it were no big deal at all; I couldn’t leave. Nothing worthy of note.

  I wanted to do a million flips all in a row and end up back at the boardinghouse. It seemed like such a comforting place right now, and that was quite an improvement. But my situation wasn’t. I felt as if I were about to faint where I stood and be buried alive.

  As if I weren’t a factor in the house anymore Visel left me and sat down at his desk; we just happened to be in his office. He put some dashing little spectacles on, and began looking through papers and maps and such.

  “Am I not here?” I asked.

  “You’re very much here,” he looked up at me from out of his glasses and smirked.

  “That won’t change?” I asked, as if confirming the situation.

  He continued smirking as he began to throw all of his papers violently on the floor, wiping them from his dark wooden desk with his fist. Ravaging, he kicked the entire furniture piece an it flew quite a ways.

  Would he do that to me?

  As I said: I personally haven’t made him angry. He still wasn’t angry as he demolished the room. He looked so happy, as if it were the most enjoyable thing in the world to blow up hundreds of years of work and study.

  Then he turned to me.

  “Visel.” I shook so hard I felt frozen.

  He began walking toward me with speed, his hair a little mussed but still looking great, veins bulging on his neck right below his constant smirk. He tore off his spectacles and dashed them to wall; I listened as they shattered. I closed my eyes. My bones were too weak at the moment to witness a horror.

  But the real horror was when he tackled me with his hands– he grabbed my head with force and was yanking my hair. I kicked and scratched back but I was too lousy a fighter and lacked too much courage (not to mention wits) to do any damage.

  I screamed; it hurt. But he wasn’t angry. He was laughing.

  When he stopped, I stood against the wall with my eyes shut tight, breathing hard. My dress was torn– he was a monster. I was bruised like a month old fruit. When I opened my eyes, he looked as if he had just finished painting a masterpiece. I screeched out in horror and fear.

  “You can’t leave.” He began laughing again. He was tickled, tickled pink, and I felt green. “You came to visit me; don’t leave me before you’ve done what you came to do.” His smirk was now a full blown smile. “You can’t leave.”

  If I couldn’t leave, I could sure as hell run for my life. At the moment it was all I could think to do to preserve my life. So I did.

  The tour made me more familiar with the halls; I tore through them about as crazily as he did as he followed me. Hot tears swung off my face and I gnashed my teeth. I had boasted of bravery; was this my payment? I can’t still comprehend his actions, or his reasons, or even mine. All I knew was that I was so scared that my throat closed and my eyeballs began sucking back into my head. My ankles felt as brittle as glass, and they’d break if I continued running; but if I didn’t, I would crack. I would end up as loony as him and probably join in the madness.

  I stepped on my skirt and took a forty-foot tumble down a staircase of stone into the dirt. It tasted horribly bad in my mouth but I swallowed it and wondered if I’d later puke it. I flung my head up and my lose hair slung behind me– I could hear him running. He’d find me soon and pull the rest of my hair out. And he probably would have, except the stables were right there in front of me.

  This night must have been based around facing fears. I ran into those stables and grabbed a horse without even realizing what the beast was– and I squeezed his legs tighter than I imagined possible. He ran with all his strength and mine combined.

  Blazing through the dark grass and moonlight with a throbbing heart and head, I could hear him laughing. It was a hideous noise.

  When I got to the boardinghouse and ditched the horse as quickly as possible, I realized my head was bleeding, and I could feel a trickling down my back. I stumbled out of the stables, just a little woozy. Actually, the more I walked the dizzier I got.

  “I’m horribly, terribly terrified and I hate him!” I whispered hoarsely as loudly as I could. I’m not even sure what I meant for it to mean, but I meant it.

  I heard footsteps behind me as the darkness hit me in the head and I got even dizzier. I choked out a sob and fell backwards; strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.

  “I told you,” he breathed apprehensively.

  Only he was he like he usually is.
Now he is Ryse.

  “Who is he?” I cried croakily.

  He sighed now and wouldn’t tell me. But I don’t think he was ignoring me; I think he was protecting me. I wasn’t even sure if wanted to know; it just seemed like the thing to ask, so I had asked it.

  “Am I going to die?” I remember whispering. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was smiling. I was kind of glad I couldn’t see another smile. I didn’t want to see another one until I was sick of frowns.

  And that was the last thing I remember saying.

  You know– when I think of it, and of what Frederam said about writing my life more story-like, the more I realized how good I am at doing it. I didn’t even hint that my trip to Visel’s castle was a horrid pit of muckiness when I began this entry.

  How I could write it all so calmly, I’ll never know. I needed to get it down on paper so I could stop thinking about it. Visel is a man that acts as if he is toppling off a snowy peak. And I hate cold weather.

  Ryse still hasn’t told me who he really is. But Lia told me something.

  In the morning when I awoke, I quickly washed the crusty blood from my hair and from under my nails. I was shaking almost as hard as I had the night before, and was sure I had been doing it all night. I had a horrible nightmare.

  I went downstairs, and surprisingly Lia didn’t scold me for being four hours late to report. Breakfast was over and she was gliding across the tables with her hands behind he back, looking all happy and contented. I grimaced and held my stomach.

  “You have a wonderful knew friend, Lottey. You’ve done so much for me that I will never be able to thank you,” she sighed blissfully, looking as lost as she did when she first met Visel.

  I collapsed on a rickety bench still coated with this morning’s special. “You can thank me, but it’s the last of his charity you’re going to get.” I was fearful for my life now; there was no way I would ever stand in his presence with somebody in front of me.

  “Oh, what do you mean?” Lia asked, still cheerful.

  “He’s an evil bat. I’m never seeing him again.” I stated shakily, but as firmly as I could utter.

  “Hmmm.” She looked at me from the corner of her eye, hand clasped behind her back, leaping to the next table. “I think you will.”

  “Why?” My eyes shot up and I clutched my chest. I would not, if I had anything to say in the matter.

  “Did you see what he brought us? And it was because of you. He likes you. And you’re just going to drop him like that, and let us down?” She jumped down and came closer to me. “Would you do that?”

  Of course I would. Which was important: better tasting food, or my life? “I am not going back,” I affirmed.

  She got a haughty look and put her hands on her hips. “Really.”

  I got a blow to the back of the head. I fell off the bench and hit the ground hard. I could feel my wounds reopened, and the blood that trickled down past my ears. My ability to breathe nearly stopped, and I looked up and saw Cook over me. Oh, what a big, big, woman– I didn’t want her against me. She would be just as deadly as Visel– maybe? I was scared and trembled through. I could feel the cold sweat on my skin as I struggled to stay conscious to what was going on around me. It was unfathomably wicked.

  “You will go tomorrow night. He sent a messenger who told me when you are to be ready. And you will go.” Lia was now looking down on me. She looked strangely happy. She gave a slight snigger. “Nothing good has ever happened to me before. I must take advantage.”

  “I won’t go,” I whispered.

  “Oh, you will,” I heard Cook’s rough voice. “What good are you when you stop bringing in goodies? I’ll kill you.” She sounded awfully matter of fact.

  But I didn’t understand: I hadn’t brought in anything special before. Why was it so important now? I had forgotten how to think at the moment.

  “You may rest, Lottey, so you look a little less black and blue when the time comes to visit your sweetheart.” She cackled loudly, and then I was carried to my room.

  So I set to writing this. Oh, why can’t I consult paper for advice? I’m so frightened I don’t even remember how to be afraid. I am sure I will perish within the next ten days.

  And another thing I don’t understand is why Visel would still want me, after I literally ran from him, and he was so violent towards me. I don’t know what he wanted, why he attacked me in the wolf-like manner that he did. It confuses me to the point that is turns my stomach sour.

  I will sit in my room and sob with self-pity until I die. Perhaps I’ll go down in history bravely?