Democracy

breath

sorry it takes me so long to update. but i wrote 23 more pages recently so i'll updated a lot pretty quickly. as always I am asking you to comment and vote. enjoy!

The child is swathed under Drass' jacket. I don't know what I'll do with him. If my father finds him, he'll snap his neck. I should probably snap his neck first.

None of those movie clichés would work either. If I were to leave him on the doorstep of some young couple, he'd die within the week, wailing and shivering, bonier than even now. And I can't take him to anybody else, anybody better off. Everybody is entranced by my father's power, he'll be in the president's hands by sunrise and I'll be stuck in a cell for weeks. My mind is left to wander as we walk in silence, hands entwined, through the gardens.

Warmth rushes from my palm as the path forks and Drass moves away. The child in my arms repositions itself, nestling into my chest. He needs feeding. I quicken my pace. What use is looking at sights if I have nobody to share them with?

When I reach the sharp white lights of the building, I head for the kitchen. To my surprise, it's empty. Usually staff will always be down here ready to serve on my father. I am glad for the emptiness. Having only been down in these rooms a few times in my life and never having opened a drawer or cupboard down here, it takes me a while to find milk. I eventually find some in the fridge, stored in little glass bottles. I can't just pour the milk into his mouth like that; he might choke. Further searching the kitchen, I come upon a little jar of straws, maybe this will do. Soon enough he is sucking on a little milk. When he finishes, he begins to hiccup.

Something sounds behind me and I turn to find a maid having leant down to catch the glass falling off the table. She looks at me with scared eyes and she draws in a breath and she straightens. her watery eyes flicker across the child in my arms before turning directly to my eyes. There is a smash as the glass hits the floor.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, sir. I'm so clumsy. I'm sorry. It's such a stupid mistake. I'm so terribly sorry." She talks frantically and her voice shakes. She has bent over and is gathering the glass into her hands. Her hands also shake. She is terrified.

I'm also terrified.

"You mustn't tell anybody I was here." I say, interrupting her string of apologies.

She pauses and raises her head.

"No, of course not, sir. Do you need my aid with anything, sir?"

I shake my head.

"Please, just don't say anything to anybody about my being here," her eyebrows furrow a little but she nods quickly. I move past her and out of the kitchen.

I take the long way back to my rooms, knowing there is less chance of me being seen on that route. Eventually I reach my door and go through it, slamming it behind me. I lean against the wood breathing heavily. I was almost seen too many times then.

"Tyler?" a female voice fills the otherwise silent room. I draw my word and allow the baby to nestle closer to me. The figure appears from behind the bed and rushes towards me, stopping at the tip of my sword. It's Satherine.

"Satherine," I keep my sword raised, "what are you doing in here?"

She looks at me with annoyance in her eye before she pushes the sword to the floor. Then she takes a step forward, surveying my appearance. Her eyes linger long on my face watching me. After watching me for an unnervingly lengthy amount of time, she begins to glide her eyes down- not pausing at the child, but rather, at the boot. "We have a day. No Fabien. Please help me enjoy it."