A Remaining Podeshire 1

Chapter 5 (Part 5)

"Mr Mayor?" Sophia stepped forward and asked Frederick with a kind, polite smile. "May I also ask more about my fiancé's background?"

"Yes?" Frederick responded.

"How come... Oliver doesn't have any relatives anymore...?" Sophia asked, lowering her voice.

"Hmm, I wonder that, too," Oliver said.

Frederick gasped in surprise, hesitating to answer. "Uhh..." he said, "...that's why it's your job to repopulate your kind."

"Disgusting," Oliver replied as his brows furrowed.

"Huh? Why are you disgusted with that concept?" Frederick then asked.

"Hm?"

"When I told you that it's your job to repopulate your kind," Frederick said.

Oliver looked at his back and glanced at Sophia. He then answered Frederick, "We're engaged and close to each other. We, however, are only..." He sighed and continued, "We're only in an arranged marriage. This means that... we don't feel a genuine intimacy with each other... we can't grasp any romantic feelings towards each other."

"...I... I feel guilty now. Oh, Oliver, I apologise if I sound like I'm forcing you," Frederick stopped to apologise.

"It's fine," Oliver replied with a warm smile, "...as always."

"...But, have you tried telling your parents not to continue your wedding?" Frederick asked worryingly.

"They'll get mad at me," Oliver scoffed.

"That consequence implies to me, too," Sophia added.

"But, have you really tried?" Frederick emphasized his question as he glanced at Oliver and Sophia.

Oliver's eyes glistened as the chandelier's soft golden light reflected in his eyes. "...I haven't..."

"Maybe we should try again, then?" Sophia held Oliver's hand.

"Yes..." said Oliver. "But, what if... what if they unleash their wrath towards us?"

"Parents are supposed to accept and understand their children. If they fail to share their sympathies, I have to take action as the mayor," Frederick said with a deep, sincere voice.

Oliver then raised his wine glass as he glanced at Frederick and Sophia. "Good luck to us, then...?"

"Good luck to us," Frederick and Sophia raised their wine glass.

     As he took another light sip of the wine glass, Oliver's eyes wandered around the hallway and noticed the gold trimmings around the white walls. Oliver continued to glance around until he spotted a humongous gold clock and realized the time was near midnight. His breath began to shiver as nervousness enveloped his body.

"Oh, Fred, it's late at night already. May we go home?" Oliver gently tapped on Frederick's shoulder and asked kindly.

"Huh, it's almost midnight," Frederick glanced at the golden clock. "Sure."

"Thanks!" Oliver said in haste.

     Oliver hurryingly finished the whole glass of wine. His eyes winced as he felt the acidic taste stinging his tongue. He then groaned as he placed the glass on a table.

"Oli... can you finish my..." Sophia handed her glass full of wine to Oliver.

"Oh... heh."

"You don't have to finish it if you don't want t—" Frederick said, but he cut his words before he could finish his sentence.

     Closing his eyes, Oliver drank another glass of wine. The sharp taste stung his throat, and the smell reached his nose. He felt flames ravaging his heart. Oliver wiped off the stains on his lips and squeezed his eyes shut as he passed the wine glass to Frederick.

"Thank you, Fred, for the night," Oliver placed a palm on his chest and bowed before hurrying down the hallway.

"Thank you for the drink, too, Mr Mayor," Sophia said. She quickly caught up with Oliver's pace as they marched down the corridor.

"Oh, wait! Oliver!" Frederick called, making Oliver look back immediately. "Don't forget to try telling your parents about your situation! Got it?" Frederick said.

Oliver lowered his eyes and smiled. "I'll try." He then waved his farewell.

     Frederick watches the Remaining Podeshire and his fiancée strut down the long, spacious, gilded hallway. Frederick's smile stretches across his cheeks, reaching both ears as he exhales through his nose. Before Frederick leaves the glistening hallway, he turns to his right. Then, he stares at the archaic portrait of Oliver's ancestor—John Podeshire. Slowly, Frederick approaches it and lays his hand on a desk, leaning towards the painting as he stares at it.

"John, I seek your intercession. Guide your descendant... protect the Remaining Podeshire," Frederick's breath quivered as he uttered his prayers, peering into the portrait.