BROKEN BEGINNINGS

Chapter 9 - Snake Eyes

I shove Dorian away.

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses. Aren't you going a bit fast? We haven't even had a single fully-fledged conversation yet,"

"Um, good point... sorry," Dorian says, flushing pomegranate. He then flashes me his cocksure Golden Boy grin "... Mistress Davis,"

I groan and turn a vibrant shade of raspberry. "Ugh, it's just Tarese, okay? ...Lord San Carlo," I can't keep the grin from my face as I give him a poke in the ribs.

"Ouch! Dorian, alright?" He says, chuckling.

Over his shoulder, I suddenly notice a green-gowned figure sweeping down the hill towards us. It can only be Sarah. Shit.

"What are you guys up to?" Sarah twitters, a flute of sparkling gold cider in her gloved palm.

"Nothing," Dorian and I chorus, trying to hide the redness of our faces.

"Well, how about we head over to my manor? Awfully drab out here, and smells like common folk," Sarah quips.

We follow her up the hill and through the cobbled streets of town, towards the towering white marble mansion Sarah called home. I've always hated going to Sarah's house, and this visit was certainly no exception.

The polished maple double doors open without a sound, and a vast, sparkling foyer with vases of exotic flowers and red carpets slithering through every hall and up every (very solid stone) staircase.

Sarah throws her shawl at one maid and shoves her drink at another, splashing it down the girl's front. "This way!" Sarah chimes, seemingly not taking note of the servants.

We follow her into a sitting room, west of the entrance, full of velvet sofas and recliners, around a dark, polished wooden table. Sarah reaches up to one of the shelves and brings out two dice along with a scrap of parchment.

"It's a game," Sarah explains, "we each roll the dice and answer a question according to the numbers that turn up."

Dorian rolls. A six and a two. Have you ever had romantic intentions toward someone? Who?

"No," Dorian squeaks, sneaking a sideways glance at me.

My turn. My hand trembles as I roll the dice across the smooth surface. Two ones, inked in vibrant green. Snake eyes. Just like how Sarah is so hungrily watching me now, her emerald eyes blazing with a wicked fire.

"So, Taresse... have you ever kissed someone?" Sarah simpers, her eyes slitting like a snake's.

"No, nope, definitely not," I fib, trying and failing to keep the blood from creeping into my face. After my midnight encounter with Dorian, I don't know if I'll ever be able lie about this sort of thing again.

Dorian actually turns his head, and I immediately wish he hadn't, because Sarah's eyes suddenly go so wide, I'm surprised her skull can still contain them.

"Lord San Carlo, could I have a word with you?" Sarah inquires, shooting up from her seat. "Um, in private?" She adds, shooting me a nasty glance.

I shrug, which Dorian seems to take as an it's okay, I'm fine with that. He follows Sarah out of the room, the tail of her gown slinking out in her wake. I stare out the floor-to-ceiling window, watching as the people in the village below mingle and dance.

That's when my senses begin to tingle, and I shoot out of my seat like an arrow, standing shock-still, tasting the air.

There's no denying it.

It smells of ash and soot. But why would Sarah's parlor smell like that?

A red-gold light flickers at the edge of the window, and my stomach plummets.

Smoke.

Sarah's house is on fire.

***

Sarah slams the door shut be hind Dorian, who almost instinctively turns his back and begins to fuss with some flowers in a vase, trying to ignore the portrait on the wall framing a ravishing and windswept Sarah.

"What did you do with her!? Why did you KISS that, that, that, BITCH!? WHY!?" Sarah screams, splotching an ugly and unattractive red, looking almost purple.

"She's not a bitch, as you so colorfully call her. She's the most beautiful girl I've ever met," Dorian defends, but this was his grave mistake.

He never saw Sarah pull out the knife.