10 Minute Tales

Jul 5 - I Didn't Mean It

She opened the door cautiously but got the surprise of her life when she saw her master at the desk. He was staring out of the window, a half-empty wine glass resting on the desk. On hearing the door, he turned to look at her.

"Oh... Sarah." he greeted, glancing aside again. The garden on the other side was beautiful, but his mind was enveloped in private darknesses. Sarah's lips frowned subtly, the only clue she gave as to her disappointment.

"Forgive me, master." she commented, bowing slightly at the waist. "I did not expect you to be present."

"No, it's... it's alright." he mumbled.

"May I resume my duties with your presence?"

"I... Yes, of course." he nodded briefly, unable to look at her. She bowed again and entered, walking over to the wall coated in bookshelves and revealing a feather duster. She got to work, standing on her toes to reach the higher shelves. "... she will be fine." he muttered, under his breath.

"Pardon, sir?" She turned to look at him. Was he talking about...?

"Mary. The doctor says she'll heal without a problem."

"That is wonderful to hear, sir." she smiled, but the ice in her voice chilled him. She held nothing but blame, nothing but contempt. He deserved it.

"... that wasn't the real me, Sarah. I-"

"I quite understand, my lord." Sarah returned her attention to the shelf, flicking a dust bunny off with one quick wrist movement. "You were rather intoxicated that night."

"No, I-"

"It's quite alright, sir." her voice grew colder still. "You do seem to enjoy that beverage."

"... Sarah..." he muttered an objection, though very quietly. The two fell to silence as she continued, the gentle roar of the weak fire the only noise. Eventually, he sighed.

"I'm not like that. I'm not usually..."

"Sir, please." any hint in her calm demeanour had already frayed. "You know that substance does not sit well with you. Why do you insist on it?"

"Sarah, I-"

"Far be it from me to question your wisdom, of course, but it doesn't make sense to me. Tradition is no reason to become... like that."

"No, but-"

"The drink is your family's heritage, yes." she turned to face him, no longer hiding her frustration. "But if you cannot control it, I do not believe it should control you."

"... I am aware." he muttered, not daring to look her in the eye. "It's just... if I cannot support my family's creation, the buyers would lose faith..."

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"You may."

"No meagre product is worth the peril you're putting your family through. Mary, your daughters, your staff force... they're all being hurt by your indulgence. For all of our sake, please, stop."

"I..." he sighed, standing up. Sarah hesitated; had she gone too far? "... I can't disagree with what you've said, but..." he picked the liquor up, staring at it. His jaw clenched. "... if I follow your advice, what would happen to the company? To our income?" he looked at her. "Your job is at risk if I follow this advice. Do you truly stand by it?"

"I..." she hesitated, glancing out of the window. How had it come to this?