Sounds of Fire

2

By the time Derek could be discharged from the hospital, Lady Grace had had all of her belongings shipped back to her childhood home and she was relatively settled without anyone noticing. Her name was on all of Sir Den's documents and she was complete owner of his estate and empire. She had worked remarkably fast.

Derek and Anatolia were in one of Lady Grace's many new cars, courtesy of the late Sir Den, being driven by the exact same driver that was in the accident with them. Anatolia's respect for the man shot through the roof. As they drove, Anatolia watched the world slip by, and also watched her reflection in the window. There was a tiny scar close to her mouth from where a piece of glass had struck her. It was insignificant, Derek had said as much, but it felt tremendously large to Anatolia. She thought it ugly.

"You're doing it again," Derek mumbled, so that the driver wouldn't hear.

Anatolia sighed and turned her head to glare at him. "What?"

"You're touching it. It's not that bad, really. I can barely see it."

"I can see it perfectly fine. It makes me look like I have something hanging from the corner of my mouth."

"You're vain."

Rolling her eyes, Anatolia returned her gaze to the window. She wasn't vain. She knew she was attractive to enough people, her history had proved it, but she wasn't vain. She was just... aware.

Derek scooted close. "Look, I admit, I can see it just fine." The scoff from Anatolia made him smile. "But it really doesn't look bad. It makes you seem... worldly."

The reflection in the window raised an eyebrow. "Worldly?"

"Yes. Like in those movies where the hero has that scar that makes him look that much more heroic."

Anatolia spun in her seat. "It's that noticeable?"

"Oh, come off it. You know you still look just as beautiful as ever. I should know, I have the same face, and I am not ugly."

A little smile graced Anatolia's lips. "Thanks."

Derek smiled and lifted Anatolia's hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. He continued to hold her hand as they drove back home, his grip firm but gentle. They both couldn't wait to relax in their own rooms, and to see what changes Lady Grace no doubt had made to their home. She was the type to leave her mark.

As the mansion loomed ahead, Anatolia gripped her brothers hand tighter, nervous. When the driver stopped the car Anatolia stepped out and wiped her hands on her jeans before nodding her head at Derek so they could go in at the same time. They exhaled in tandem on the front steps. As soon as the front doors were open, the twins knew that their home was different. Sir Den's drab color choices were gone, replaced with what must have been Lady Grace's more outspoken, vibrant colors. The sitting room's curtains were open and sunlight illuminated couches that weren't there before the accident. Anatolia moved throughout the house, noticing differences, both small and large. Sometimes a room just changed an item or two, while other rooms were completely different. Anatolia's room was the exact same, as was Derek's, and the kitchen was left alone. The only rooms Anatolia didn't check for differences in were the housekeeper's rooms, Sir Den's room, and Lady Grace's old room, which had been converted to a study for Sir Den not long after Lady Grace left.

Derek made a face when they were finished snooping, his voice fluttering into Anatolia's head. Where is Lady Grace? Anatolia shrugged and went to the kitchen for something to eat. Derek followed. The cook had her hands full with what looked to be dinner, but wasn't afraid to cheerily kick the twins out, not wanting them to spoil their appetites. Stomachs growling and dejected, the twins headed to Anatolia's room.