Chapter 2: The Blue Danube

        There must have been quite a commotion outside my room to have woken me. I could not tell whose voice any of them were because all were mumbles. The door was shut, and the sunlight shone in from the window, like it did every day, had it not rained. It barely rained and in the winter it mostly snowed in the evening through the night. This morning, however, the tweets of the canaries were not heard. 
        Someone knocked on the door, followed by, “Milady, may I enter?” The voice I could recognize; it was my maid, Catherine.  
        ”Yes.” I responded facing away from the window as I rubbed my eyes awake. I pulled the nightgown off over my head, leaving on only my undergarments.
        ”What would you like to wear today, Milady?” She asked, standing by the open wardrobe.
        I sighed and stared down at my almost-bare body. “Anything’s fine.”
        She reached in and took a pink gown off the hanger. Catherine laid the gown down neatly next to me on the bed. She took a corset and waited for me to get up. 
        Standing up, I lifted my arms and patiently stared at the wall across my gaze as she put the corset around my torso. 
        It was inappropriate for a lady such as myself to be dressed by a male butler, so Catherine would do all the work that involved dressing or undressing me.
        The butler, Jackson, was the only butler in the entire house, and considering just how big the Manor was and the amount of work he had to do, he had my respect. Out of all the servants, it was him that I trusted most. He escorted me to every corner of Britain and he’d do the same for the world if I had desired so. My meals were all served by him and my clothes washed and ironed by his hands. He was more loyal than a dog to me, but even a dog had to have its days. No — Jackson was nothing like a dog, he was like a friend, not that I could ever call but a butler that.
        ”What’s all the noise?” I asked Catherine as she was finishing up dressing me by wrapping a honey-yellow bow tightly around my waist as a finishing touch.
        ”Duke Kinlan’s son, Lord Henry William Kinlan.”
        It hit me as no surprise. Every day my problems seemed to involve him more and more. He was nothing but a nuisance in my life, one that I could never see as my betrothed.
        ”Pardon me, My Lady, but he’s speaking in tongues. He’s gone completely mad!”
        ”I’d think the same if I were to see him. What is he going on about now?” It was unusual for Henry to appear in the Manor this early in the morning, but considering how I had ended yesterday’s conversation, I wasn’t all that surprised. He’d have gone insane some day or another.
        Catherine folded my nightgown and put it the drawer. “His tongue is twisted in knots, he’s spouting about demons!” A worried look appeared on her face, but I couldn’t tell if it were the demons she was worried about or Henry’s sanity. 
        ”And who do you suppose twisted that tongue?” A voice echoed inside my head. It was that cloaked man’s voice. He hadn’t regularly habituated in my body during the day, or not that I knew of. I could see a faded image of his face appear before me. 
        ”You twist just about anything, including my words.” I responded back to him, completely forgetting that Catherine was still here. 
        ”Pardon, Milady?” Catherine leaned in as if misunderstanding what I had said.
        ”Sorry, nothing.” I smiled, feeling frustrated on the inside.
        ”And soon enough your sanity,” By the tone of his voice, I knew he was grinning.
As if knowing my thoughts and worries; Catherine excused herself and left the room. If only Henry was able to do the same.
        I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed. “You’re quite the nuisance.”
        I could feel his cold black aroma leaving my body as he replied, “Only for you, my sweet.” 
        How sweet could I be when my soul was drenched with the dying screams of people who died at my hands? If anything, I’d taste of bitter dark chocolate, melted by the fires of Hell. ‘Tis the reason those words sounded so brutal to me when told. Those words escaping a demon’s mouth made me only worry more, for such words a demon would never say.
        ”That’s not the kind of favour I’d ask of you.” I frowned, turning my face away from him. When I opened my eyes, I could see his dark figure through my peripherals. I felt the same way I always did around him. It wasn’t exactly what you’d call a sense of fear or hate, but more like a long-lost feeling of ceasing to exist. My existence all of sudden become as light as paperweight, as unimportant as the jewels covering my body. Perhaps I was already dead, and this hollow body was nothing more than old shed skin, no longer serving a purpose. That I’d never know ‘til death would truly come.
        ”Are you referring to my annoyance, or to the little strings I pulled of poor Henry?” He replied, smiling as if proud of either.
        I stayed silent for a moment, and then responded, “Both.” I didn’t know what such ‘strings’ he pulled, but I knew it would not be to my liking.
        The man lay down next to me and made it so that we were face to face. His eyes stared deep into mine, and although only for a moment, I felt as if he were not looking into just my eyes, but inside of me, into my soul, into a secret only I knew of.
        The smirk on his face lightened but not by much as he began to boast, “I tried holding back, but of cou—”
        ”What’s your name?” I interrupted him, completely uninterested in his accomplishments that buried over my own.
        His grin widened once more. It seemed as though any question asked would keep his attention long enough for him to answer. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again; names are of no importance to me, and neither should they be to you.” 
        You’d think it’d have been the first time I’d asked with a reply like that, but it must’ve been the thousandth, and every time he’d say the same thing. “Does that truly answer my question? I believe you are missing the point of it.”
        ”Well, I— “
        ”I asked you what your name was, not why you think you should not tell me.”
        Suddenly that grin he had kept up for so long turned into a frown, as if disappointed in my victory. “You’re quite persistent.”
        ”And you’re quite persistent to not answer what you are asked.” I replied, sitting up on the bed. “How strange is it that I’ve known you since I was 10 and yet I know not of your name?”
        The man’s eyes shifted away from my gaze to the ceiling. “Aloïs Nacht.”
        ”Pardon me?” I replied as if insulted.
        He got up off the bed and headed towards the door, but stood when he got there. Without turning back to face me, he laughed softly and said, “My name is Aloïs Nacht.” 
        I smiled, still sitting, and replied, “That was not so hard to say, now was it?”
        There was no smile on his usually joyful face when he looked back at me, just an emotionless expression that made me wonder if it was really there, or just an illusion. It was so cold and cruel that for a mere moment, the sun outside went out like a burning candle under a glass cup, and all the smiles that I’d ever smiled in my 19 years of living were worthless. It made me see the reality of things. It made me question my existence. Worst of all, it made me question God and his decisions. The words were scratching at the corners of my lips, trying to escape, ‘Don’t… do that again.’ But they didn’t make it out. The world seen behind the eyes of a demon was more horrid than anything a human would experience. You could never begin to imagine what Hell was like, nor would you want to.
        Without saying another word, he left the room, his body completely disintegrating into ashes. He must’ve been disappointed in me, though I didn’t know why, but at least I had finally found out his name after these 9 years; and what a strange name it was. It definitely was not English. But that was not the point; I finally knew, in price of a little piece of my joy. Perhaps that moment of regret I felt in me was what I had to experience in exchange for something of his, whether it be an object or information.
        ”Milady?” A head peeked into my room. I nearly jumped at the shock of seeing a man, mistaking it to be the demon. “Pardon.” He finally said, bowing down in forgiveness.
        ”Is there anything scheduled for today?” I asked the butler as I stood up.
        Jackson offered a hand as I got up, using it for support. “Marriage requests. If you’d like to meet any—”
        ”I don’t.” I interrupted him, “Cancel them all. Is that it?” 
        ”Dance lessons.” 
        ”Dismiss it as well. I’m not in the mood.” I replied, yawning.
        His face looked stern as he responded, “I cannot. Mr. Grayson is already downstairs. It’s 9:00 in the morning.”
        I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, only imagining what pains he had to go through to still stand waiting on the first floor. “Oh, dear. Was he there to witness Lord Kinlan’s tantrum?”
        ”I’m afraid so.” said Jackson as he opened the door to the hallway, motioning his hand towards it. “Milady?”
        I sighed, walking through the doorway. Art lessons twice a week, dance lessons thrice, and one hour of fencing; and that was only so far. Eventually Lady Annabelle would squeeze my schedule so tight, my corset would feel loose to me.
        Mr. Grayson awaited me at the end of the curling staircase, with his hand ready to take mine. He was dressed in a black tailcoat and his hair was combed back. He looked more professional than usual. 
        I gracefully curtsied when I got to the bottom of the stairs and took his hand, using my free hand to hold my gown up to avoid stepping on it.
        ”You look dashing, Milady.” He smiled, his eyes tinting from brown to orange as the chandelier hit them. 
        ”As do you,” I replied, keeping my face as pleasant as possible. “But please, do drop the formalities, Rhys.” I said in a lower tone of voice.
        He laughed softly and took my waist and other hand. “I would, Ms. Strathmore, but in the presence of your family and peers, I must refrain myself from seeming informal.” He whispered, pulling me closer as we began to dance. “After all, what am I but your dance instructor?”
        The musicians played The Blue Danube Waltz, and as the rhythm picked up, we began to move faster and in tune.
        ”One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four…” He quietly mumbled.
        Rhys was so much like Aloïs on the outside; the taunting voice, the sinister smile, even that leading hand that wouldn’t let you take control no matter how much effort you’d make to change that. They were both so… in command.
        I constantly looked down at our moving feet, worrying if with each step I took, I was going too fast or too slow.
        ”Relax.” Rhys whispered in my ear, loosening his grip on my waist a little. “Don’t get so tense, you’re doing fine.”
        It wasn’t as if I’d never danced before, but never had I waltzed with another, let alone Rhys. It was my first lesson, let more reason I hadn’t wanted to attend.
        Moving even faster, he pulled me back closer to him, our faces now only a few inches apart.
        Rhys stared into my eyes so determinedly; I couldn’t help but look back down at my feet again. 
        He removed his hand from my waist for a moment and tilted my chin back up to look at him. “Have you heard the recent news, Milady?” He asked as if trying to keep my mind from focusing so closely on how I danced.
        ”Depends on what news, Mr. Grayson.” I replied, gathering back all of my composure.
        Rhys softly laughed at how swiftly my formality had wavered back. “There have been sightings of a pirate ship not far from the St. Katharine docks. It’s only a matter of time until they’re manifesting the streets of London, ‘less they are already.”
        I strangely stared at Rhys, surprised by what he’d said. The tempo of the dance slowed down a bit, but it wasn’t long before Rhys forcefully brought it back up again to match the rhythm. “Frightened, Milady?” He grinned that terrorizing smile that so much reminded me of the demon’s.
        ”Not the least bit.” I replied, straightening my back and continuing to follow his lead of the waltz. “I’m more surprised than anything else. There haven’t been pirates in ages!”
        ”Well who wouldn’t be surprised at such non-expectancies? Since it’s only the ship that’s been sighted, and from afar at that, it might be deserted.”
        I sighed, already beginning to feel tired of waltzing about. “Does that mean I will be forced an escort with me to any destination outside of the Manor?” 
        ”Why, Milady, are you not forced to have one already?”
         I would have stopped to rest by now, but the pace at which Rhys was dancing made it seem he insisted on continuing more so, regardless of whether I wanted to or not. 
          The space between our bodies grew tighter, so much that I could feel his breath on my neck and his hairs on my skin.
        I firmed my feet on the ground, rejecting the movement that he so heavily swayed upon me. Pushing his chest away, as if asking for room to breath, I took a step back myself, as if needing more. “That’s a bit too close for even myself, Rhys, even if I did ask that you don’t be so formal.”
        ”You have my sincerest apologies, Milady. Please forgive me.” He replied as he kneeled down on one knee, placing himself no higher than a servant.
        Could that really be an apology, or just a plead for another chance? I never let anyone get as close to me as I did the demon. So close, he literally had felt upon all of my insides, even barely grasped onto my soul because he was curious as to what it would feel like. He once told me it was fragile and vulnerable, much like a newborn; perhaps reason being why almost everyone took advantage of it, though I tried only my best to stop them from doing so.
        We continued to dance for another 40 minutes or so, Rhys showing me how to do this and that and what postures to refrain from doing. It was quite the tiring hour for me, while Rhys didn’t even seem to break a sweat. 
        ”Would you like to join me for a cup of tea, Milady?” He asked me, letting go of my waist ever so gracefully.
        ”Rhys, call me Starling, I insist.” I’d nag him about it ‘til he’d finally agree to do so. I couldn’t stand all these formalities and being called ‘Milady’ all the time. Being an orphan since birth for 10 years, I wasn’t accustomed to such until only at the late age of 11. “And certainly. I have not yet eaten breakfast either.” I added, glaring over at Jackson who was standing next to the group of musicians. 
        ”Please excuse me, Milady. How improper of me. I’ll go fix some eggs for Mr. Grayson and yourself immediately.” Jackson responded, bowing down in forgiveness.

        I bit down on the edge of the teacup after taking a sip, staring directly at Rhys who sat across from me. We were sitting in a part of the courtyard where my room could be seen from, and the tree before it still had the canaries’ nest, but no canaries themselves. 
        I sat there thinking of the many possible situations that would force the canaries out, or even kill them. It wasn’t as if they were game-birds like geese and ducks, so that gave them no reasons to be killed by humans.
        ”Something on your mind?” Rhys asked, sipping his own tea. I could see a slight grin coming out from behind the teacup.
        My face must’ve been buried with worried lines for him to have asked that, else he could read my mind as well as Aloïs. “The canaries are no longer in the tree outside my window. I may never hear their sweet morning call again.”
        Rhys smiled at my response, and this time it was more relaxed and loose than those smirks and grins he’d throw around. “You must’ve been quite attached to them to worry so much.” He laughed.
        ”But of course!” I gasped. Only realizing how devastated I sounded when I had said that, I looked down at my teacup, bringing it back up to my mouth. “Sorry.” Taking something out that had been there every day of my life was more than noticeable and I couldn’t help but constantly think about wanting it back.
        ”Don’t apologize, Starling.”
        I nearly jumped at the sound of him finally call me by my first name.
        ”I find it absolutely captivating when a woman has so much care for something.” He added, leaning in closer.
        I merely blushed at his response, trying to cover my embarrassment by continuing to sip my tea as if ignoring his comment. I took a deep breath as I set down the teacup. “Rhys, not to seem rude, but I hope you are not expecting my hand in marriage for saving my life. I know how ungrateful that sounds, but there are reasons why I cannot.”
        He laughed at my response as if thinking so lowly of me.
        I frowned, and egoistically turned away.
        ”Starling, I do not expect anything in exchange for saving your life. I don’t regret saving a life worth saving. If I am to ever wish having you as my wife, I want to work my way to your approval and make myself even worthy of being your husband. I do not intend pushing such excuses as debt to make you marry me. That is unforgivable.”
        Whether he had intended to marry me or not, I could never accept, for the contract would break from the very dying words ‘I love you’. To be exact, that was what it consisted of. In exchange for my soul, the demon would mirror my life, making it as though I was never born an orphan, but the daughter of the Countess of London. She was never able to have any children, making my sudden appearance at the gates of her Manor quite convenient.
        On the other hand, the reason I was able to stay alive was because of Rhys Grayson, the son of the chief inspector of Scotland Yard, who had pushed me away from my death by a moving coach at the age of 13. He was 20 at the time, refusing to follow the footsteps of his father, and become what he really wanted; a dance instructor. Of course, I only knew that one day he would be my instructor. 
        ”That’s… quite bold of you to say.” I replied, trying not to make direct eye contact. I knew that if I did, he’d be able to know what I was thinking almost instantly. I took a deep breath, as well as a hard try to change the topic. “Concerning my first waltz lesson, how was I?” 
        ”Had I not known it was your first, I would very well have thought it not. Are you quite certain it was your first time? This is the Era of Waltz after all.”
        ”As certain as I am that Lord Kinlan’s a nutcase.” I smiled reassuringly.
        ”Don’t have to get so rational.” Rhys laughed as he poured himself another cup of tea.
        I stared at the warmness of Rhys’ ever so rarely occurring gentle smile. The teacup in my hands was just as warm as it, and I softly smiled and drank it bit by bit constantly, thinking of how different things would be if I could ever love.