Chapter 2

One week ago

"I need to tell you something, mother."

My mother, Mrs. Gomez, a harder block than my father, looked up at me from her sewing machine and familiarly squinted her eyes. But she loved me and I couldn't have wished for a better parent. I sat down before she changed her mind.

"What is this about, Val?"

"It is more of a question than a statement rather," I said.

"Our with it," said my mother.

"People I come across seem to see me from a different perspective like there is something they do not understand about me," I said and laughed. "Honestly, it's something I hardly understand about myself either."

"That sounds like a statement to me, Val," said Mrs. Gomez.

"Yes, yes, I know. There… There is a question, mother," I said. "But it's hard to ask."

"Knowing you, I'm pretty sure you'd have thought that part out already. So, what is it?"

"Am I complicated?"

"What do you mean?" said Mrs. Gomez.

"Am I different? Like... abnormal?"

"Val," said Mrs. Gomez, and she sighed. "You are my daughter. That doesn't make you different in any way."

"There are a lot of people who don't think so, mother. I see the way they all look at me when I pass them by. It is like they're telling me to check myself. How, mother? How can I do that?"

"Well, you can start by disregarding whatever their opinion of you is, Val."

"How? The people are like motes during the day and dew at night. They look up to the lord of the manor and their eyes never stray far from the woman Killian calls his."

"I think you are being too judgmental," said my mother. "Of yourself."

"No, Mother, people judge me when they look at me. They hear things. They know I cannot turn. Maybe Killian made a mistake, they think."

"Well, what do you think?" asked my mother, but I didn't have an immediate response to this. "Does it matter what they think?" She added.

"This is me we are talking about."

"Are we? Are your concerns really about you?"

"Sorry if I'm shooting complaints from every angle, Mother, but it's all overwhelming. And I do not know what to do. Is there any way to fix this? If there is, tell me."

Mother stared at me, and I saw her left eye twitch. It appeared like she knew something but didn't want to say it. "Have you talked to Killian about this?"

"In an indirect way, yes," I said.

"And what was his response?"

"In his words, he said he wasn't the cause of my problem and gave me a direction to who might be."

"And what was this direction?" asked my mother.

"He told me to come talk to my parents instead."

*********

It was still morning and I made tea for Mother. Her words, "I will talk with your father," were the last thing she said to me that morning before I took my leave.

My walk through the streets was so solemn that I didn't want to go back to the manor but took a detour which led me to the cobblestone town. It was a place I shouldn't be, but I had no idea why I was drawn to the town.

I walked towards the pub house owned by a friend of mine called Arthur. He was twenty-five years older than I was, but that didn't matter. He always listened to me, as long as I brought some vintage wine bottles from the manor's bottler from time to time. Outside Arthur's pub, there was a cart parked next to a man smoking a cigar. I smiled when I saw the names on the bottles.

Inside, I walked straight to the bar at the end of the room and bellied up with a smile. "Surprised to see me?"

"How can I be?" said Arthur, as he looked up at me and leaned forward. "Did you bring me something?"

"Not today, Arthur. But I did see the wine cart outside."

"Oh, yes," said Arthur, and smiled.

"A vintage one at that too. Must have cost you a lot."

"Once my patrons had a taste of the manor's brew, they couldn't stop asking for it. So I had to improvise, or I might lose some of the men."

"As usual."

"Can't blame me for trying to double-cross my supplier. Got throats that need dousing."

"No offense taken for trying to double-cross me, friend. How has business been?"

"Rowdy. And the manor?"

"It's been a problem of late."

"How?" said Arthur.

"It's what has brought me here, Arthur. I think the manor is trying to chase me out."

The pub owner looked at me the way he would look at every other drunk who has said something preposterous. But the truth? Sober was I.

"We should talk about this in private, right?" suggested Arthur.

I nodded.

"Take over for a moment here, will you," hollered Arthur at his younger brother.

"Good day, Miss Valeria," said Merl, as he came over.

"Good day, Merl. How do you do?"

"Very well, miss."

"And Charlie?"

"Little Charlie's fine. Home as father doesn't like him coming over to the pub since he's still so young."

"I understand."

"I heard Lord Killian has been asking after some young girls, are you expecting new maidens?"

"I haven't heard that."

"Oh. Maybe it is some surprise, then," said Merl.

Arthur took me to the back of his pub, and we sat down at a table with a deck of playing cards on it. "Offer you something?" offered Arthur.

"Your attention," I said, as I sat down and waited for him to follow suit.

He did and broke the playing cards in two halves. "I'm all ears."

"I need you to promise me that whatever I say to you in this room on this day will grace no other ear. Give me your word, Arthur."

"I give you my word," said the pub owner. "Is it serious?"

"In a way. I am battling with living up to expectations, Arthur. And it disturbs me."

"Whose expectations if I may ask?"

"Lord Killian's."

"I see."

"Do I need to know what those expectations are?"

"As a man like him, I was hoping you could tell me what those expectations might be and how to surmount them," I said.

"Sounds like you're trying to test me?" said Arthur.

I said nothing. Arthur went ahead to spread the pack of cards he had halved. "I cannot put myself in the shoes of Lord Killian, Val. His expectations don't mirror mine."

"Well, there seems to be a problem with me," I ventured. "About being... different."

"How so?"

I shook my head.

"From the other ladies?" asked Arthur.

"I have no idea if Lord Killian has other ladies," I said with a frown on my face.

"That's not what I meant," Arthur defended. "There is a possibility that he has been in the company of other women, not necessarily anything to worry about, and has seen some certain standards that he'd only wish you emulate?"

"Well, if this be the case, why doesn't he just tell me instead of making it feel like I wasn't raised right?"

"I don't…"

A frantic knock on the door made Arthur get to his feet. Merl was on the other side. I didn't see his face, but his words were enough to put a picture on it. "Charlie's gone missing."