Father. It was such a strange word for an orphan from the streets to use and especially for a man old enough to be his ancestor. There was a quiver in his step when Cecil Calyx walked. He played it off as excitement to greet his new son, but there was no warmth in his eyes when he touched noses with Mutt. "You cannot be named Mutt now that you are my son," he beckoned one of his servants closer and exchanged whispers. Mutt's odd ears were keen enough to catch the words. Your name? Good enough for him. The servant seemed reluctant, but bowed and murmured in agreement. "Valther. That is your name now." Mutt seethed that the old man had chosen something without consulting him. He forced a smile and thanked his new father for the gift of a name. |
Had Eleanor known what awaited her when she stepped inside the Calyx manor, she might have reconsidered Freyja’s offer to join her crew and sail away from Rionna forevermore, as if physical distance was the only solution. Maybe it was. She had tried to scorn Mutt out of their lives, then kindness when that didn't work, hoping her complaints would then be taken seriously by her uncle if he saw her making an effort instead of acting like a spoiled brat that didn't want to share her favorite toys. Both of those measures only proved that Mutt was more persistent than she first thought. Did it speak too of Cecil's desperation to improve his own image?
The Calyx princess entered the home to a medley of tantalizing scents and the strangely avoidant eyes of her favorite servant. Valther always doted on her and told her stories in his familiar rasp, and his was the gaze she could read best. That he kept it downcast on his paws and did not greet her in their typical fashion set off alarm bells that made Eleanor hesitant to go further inside. It would not be unprecedented to find her uncle had ordered a feast for her imminent return to the college, but a little voice mocked her foolish optimism. Steeling herself, she stepped around the corner into the dining hall. |
The newly named Valther sauntered around the dining table, snubbing the seat he had picked earlier for one more fitting of his noble rear. Shamelessly the place he chose himself was at the head of the table where the Lord of the manor feasted. Servants cast nervous glances at each other, bustling around and clattering at the table as dinner was served. They wanted to speak up at the audacity of the young master, but held their tongues and looked away meekly. They had been the first victims to become ensnared by his web and like puppets they danced along upon silky strands doing as he bid. ”We’re celebrating,” he let out a bark of laughter. ”We’re officially family. Father finally made it official,” Valther announced, heartily slamming a massive paw on the table in good cheer. |
Nope. Eleanor did not spare the imposter charading as a Calyx even a single second more before she turned on her heel and stormed away.
The head of House Calyx was not a meek man. A lifetime of being surrounded by snakes offering poisoned apples made him immune to fear. He did not cower at court. It was his name being snarled through the home that struck him with the sensation now, eyes widening and tail curling between his legs. There was no use in turning tail and running. He knew there was no corner of this world where he could hide from the condemnation awaiting him. It was better to face his niece and atone for his sin, of which he knew was a grave misstep that was too late to fix. |
The Calyx Cuckoo awaited her meltdown with the gleeful excitement of a pup being given a new toy to play with. A wicked grin adorned his face, muddy gaze holding a satisfied gleam. His smug expression was practically begging her to yell at him and when those haughty gemstone eyes dismissed him he felt insulted. It was Cecil's name that shook the house and his name died in the silence like the nothing that he was. The bitter self loathing that he watered down with faux arrogance was choking his ego with its toxicity again. Inside he became that worthless wretch of a pup again, snivelling and sobbing for his father. |
Cecil's silence was betrayal. He didn't seem keen to make any attempts at salvaging what he broke, instead it was to Mutt he looked for aid instead of Eleanor. She tried not to show how that open rejection stung her but her despondent features looked stricken. The anger she used to protect herself dissolved. Even on the day she lost her parents, her uncle had stepped into the space their deaths had created so she'd never had to experience the loneliness and isolation he was imposing on her.
Leaving now felt like surrender, but what more could she do? Mutt's claws were embedded into Cecil. Bicolored eyes leered at him from where she stood on the other side of the line she'd drawn in the side while they stood together as one. |
A triumphant gleam shone in Valther's muddy brown eyes revealing the truth behind his morose smile. He enjoyed watching Cecil turn his back on the girl he had claimed to cherish, all for the sake of his reputation. His vanity was his weakness. If a newly adopted son ran away from home just days after his good deed was announced to the world it would reflect badly upon him and Valther used that to his advantage. He pretended to be the victim and painted Eleanor as a bully. It was easier to let her go than let his newest golden goose leave the nest. She had served her purpose. Praise had been heaped upon the selfless uncle who had taken in his brother's child. Now that she was grown and independent she was no longer the darling little rose that his guests could ooo and ahhh over. His altruism had to reach new heights and Mutt was his answer. ”I’ll be sure to send letters. Don't forget to write back,” he retorted sweetly with passive aggressive kindness. |
Mutt's unspoken words hit her squarely in the chest. The only indication was the tension around Eleanor's eyes, creased at the edges, because she remained otherwise curled defensively, a snake ready to strike and flee.
Eleanor blinked away the tears before they could fall. Unwilling to cry in front of them, she raised her chin. It hurt her deeply to turn her back on Cecil when he was all she had left to hold onto, but he'd made it clear that her importance to him had been temporary. He'd been the first to turn his back yet it still tore at her insides to do the same. Suddenly the manor she grew up in felt cold and unwelcoming to her. The walls did not offer to house her confessions and secrets; anything she whispered into them now would slide off, unwanted. Eleanor hurried through, pausing only long enough to nuzzle Valther's muzzle in silent goodbye, but no matter how far she went, she still felt Mutt's victorious gaze branding into her skin. - exit |