The Secrets of Lore Seymour

52. Surprise After Surprise

Over the next few days, I avoid everyone. Cyan. Draven. Arline. The children. And especially Lore. Rather than eat breakfast with them, I grab a plate from the kitchen. Sometimes I leave before breakfast, heading into town to investigate? Wander? Panic? The world's slipping through my fingers, thin and coarse as sand. The more the sand filters past my fingertips, the more raw my skin becomes. Every movement aches. Every thought pierces my chest.

What am I doing here? What am I meant to do now?

On the morning we're to leave for Vexsis, I grab my bag to pack and try to shove my thoughts into an equally cramped space.

Cyan said what he said to deceive me.

But if that's the case, wouldn't he have told me at the beginning to keep me on edge, always?

The church, my family, would never do such horrendous acts.

The church locks up criminals so children can behead them.

Lore and his gang of misfits excel at deception.

So does the church.

"Seren, may I come in?" Lore asks after a few knocks against my bedroom door.

His voice rings in my ears. I shove an extra robe into my bag and reply, "I'd say no, but I already hear you turning the doorknob."

The door swings open. Lore steps in, more lavishly adorned than usual. His blue suit, no matter how boisterous, pales in comparison to his eyes. The ones that lock on me, as they have been since my continuous avoidance. He concentrates for so long at times that I swear his gaze has singed my skin.

"I've come to see if you're ready," he claims, approaching me swiftly, too swiftly. I don't zip my bag shut in time. "What are these ghastly garments?" Lore gasps, managing to grab my underwear that he somehow spotted under my robes.

"Stop acting like a child and put that back," I demand, refusing to look at him. Seeing Lore stretch my underwear like he's inspecting the quality of the product is the last thing I expected to happen this morning. And, frankly, I am not in the mood for these games. I'm not in the mood for anything but sleep. A lot of it.

"These are appalling," he states. "I know they do nothing to show off your astounding ass."

I snatch my underwear from him. "Fuck off."

"Oh, are you upset because you agree or because you're feeling shy after the compliment? With your attire, I imagine not many have made such remarks, but you could change that if you'd wear those suits I bought you."

"Shouldn't you be packing or pushing paper work instead of annoying me?" I huff while stashing my underwear back into the bag.

This is why I've been avoiding him. He makes me stumble over every step. He creates cracks in a foundation I always believed to be unbreakable. I don't know what to do about those breaks. Do I let it collapse and see where it takes me?

"I am not here only to annoy," he claims smugly. "I am here about those suits, actually."

"I'm not wearing them just so you can sexually harass me."

Lore chortles as he approaches my wardrobe. There, he plucks the three suits from within to lay gracefully on the bed. "Pick one to wear," he orders, flourishing his wrist to signal to the garments. "And bring the remaining two with you."

He holds up his hand, silencing my disagreement before I can give it. "Let me explain," he says, grinning. "The vampires will not like seeing you in church garbs. While they know who you are and what you are, among civilians, no one will know your true identity. It will cause less trouble for all of us."