Greek Tragedy

EP 08 | THE SWEET DUCK

EPISODE EIGHT

'the sweet duck'

  

   

The rest of the journey went by in relative ease.

After Quinn had stuffed her bags with every and any amenity in the cabin that was free, with Eliza and her arguing about taking the blow dryer, we stepped off and landed in Aberdeen, arriving in Scotland.

Leon tried to speak to me on many occasions, but I steered the conversation to a different topic. It was only at my relief and guilt that James asked him to come with to get a car to get to Fort Williams, and figure out how to get to Castle Blue Eyes from there. Leon looked like he wanted to say something, argue or talk, but something on my face dissuaded him, leaving him only with a sigh and a strained smile as the guilt weighed heavily in my stomach.

My fingers curled tightly. So many moments I wanted to tell him, approach him about it.

But not now. I couldn't.

"It's technically a private island," Quinn said, as we waited. She sat on her duffle bag, her feet propped up on the rest of the luggage, with her hands rapidly going about her laptop again. "But not really."

I raised an eyebrow, amused. "So which is it?"

"The castle is owned by the Sterling Trust, therefore owned by Heinrich and Josephine. It includes allocated lands. A few of the lands around it are owned by other people, but like, not really a lot of occupants because it's really hard to get to. Fertile soil, good for farming, but it being nothing more than a rock against dangerous waters. Well. Regular supplies are made once a quarter kind of thing since no one really lives on it, but it's only really for the castle. Not even the caretakers come to live in it, just cleaning it and sprucing it up to keep the mould down more than anything. So really. Barren tiny rock floating on water kind of vibe."

"So we're definitely riding on a boat?" Eliza asked, looking squeamish.

Quinn looked partly amused. "You don't like boats, Liza?"

"Nope," she said, giving a light shudder. "Hate 'em."

"We better buy medicine and some plastic bags, then," I said.

"Lots of plastic bags." Quinn whistled. "She's looking green just thinking about it!"

It was in the wee hours of the night when we had arrived in Fort Williams. The journey between was pleasant enough. Leon and James had shared the burden of driving, though Quinn tried for a bit before she declared she was sleepy, and came to sleep between Eliza and I. In between, Leon made no mention though he had taken my hand at one point and squeezed. There was a question there, an olive branch. I could only sigh back and shake my head. Not now. He acquiesced and let it go, but I felt his questions peering into my edges. His anxiety at my silence, my insistence. He would demand questions again, as Leon did not like being kept in the dark for too long. It drove him mad.

Being in a relationship with him had taught me that he didn't like avoidance or prolonged silence. It often clashed with how I dealt with things; I was avoidant, and I needed time to internalise my thoughts on my problems, deal with them on my own. It often amplified the conflict.

"Bloody hell, I can't feel my legs." James groaned, stretching himself and hitting his good knees.

Quinn snorted. "Old bloody man." When she got out of the car however, she swayed, scrambling to take hold of the car door. Everyone paused. Under the dim lights, Quinn burned red. James laughed obnoxiously.