Sounds of Fire

8

For two days Lady Grace was cooped up in her room, making phone calls and deals to faceless contacts, and doing nothing else. Her meals were brought to her and the whole staff was worried, though most didn't voice it.

Anatolia ran herself ragged trying to find out who was objecting the validity of Lady Grace's inheritance. The letter had been sent by someone named Prentiss, but Anatolia had never heard the name before, or at least she didn't remember hearing it. The voices didn't offer much help, only that the contest was true. Derek, though, had a little more to share. After being given the pieces of letter, Derek could see much more than the voices could tell. He could see that Prentiss would come, eventually, and Lady Grace would most likely have to drain almost all her resources to remain proprietor of her estate, only because she wasn't fond of cheap tactics. Anatolia didn't like that information, especially since Lady Grace was already doing just that. Derek's vision was more self fulfilling than anything else.

People came and went, all of them Lady Grace's contacts, staying for meetings in a once empty room now filled with desks and chairs and books and papers. The room was essentially converted into a stuffy office. Anatolia and Derek were kept away from the meetings.

"I don't like this," Anatolia muttered, pacing through her room. It had been almost a week and Lady Grace was still engrossed in trying to prevent an overthrow. "There has to be something we can do."

"There isn't," Derek said. He had taken a shower in Anatolia's bathroom and was looking through her many lotions. He dismissed most of them but was torn between two; he couldn't decide whether he wanted to smell like vanilla or cherry blossoms. "We just have to trust that Lady Grace knows what she's doing." He chose cherry blossoms. "I'm assuming she does, since Prentiss hasn't shown up yet."

"Don't use all of that. I'm almost out." Anatolia sat down on her bed. "We can offer emotional support, at least."

Smirking, Derek lotioned his elbows. "Are you mad that Lady Grace hasn't given you some smooches since she found out about Prentiss?"

"I'm not mad."

"But you're pretty upset."

"No, I'm not upset at all. This situation is more important than my feelings. I'm just saying that we could help, even if it's just to make Lady Grace feel a little lighter after a day of hard work."

"Talk like that and the staff will start making assumptions. You should be careful." His voice was tinged with sadness.

Anatolia rolled her eyes, but in her heart she knew why Derek sounded sad. She thought bringing it up would make him sadder, so she skipped it. "No one will make assumptions if you keep your big mouth shut."

Derek finished putting on lotion and got dressed in his home clothes- a crisp t-shirt and shorts. "I'm not going to say anything, you know that. I'm not going to let you two end up like-" The doorbell rang, the sound reverberating loud enough so the whole house could hear.

Getting up, Anatolia walked backwards out of the room, an understanding smile on her face. "I know, Derek. I know." She turned around and jogged downstairs, almost slipping as her socked foot touched the foyer floor. She slid to the front door before one of the maids could answer. She wanted to do it herself, hoping to get a little bit more detail from Lady Grace's contacts. She hadn't been successful yet but that didn't mean she'd stop trying.

Opening the door, Anatolia smiled brightly. "Hello. How can I help you?"

The sun made the guests long, silky dark hair shine bright. "Hello," she said, smiling warmly, smile wrinkles revealing themselves. "I'm looking for Grace Similo." She said Lady Grace's last name with a hint of something. Perhaps she had fun saying it.