Egbert

Of his word

"I take it, it went well." Sebastian's judgement is given based on the fact that I'm currently laying spread eagle on my bed. Face up, looking up at the ceiling with a gaze that could mistakenly be looking upon the stars. It's instead fixed on a mossy stain nestled by the light bulb, wondering when exactly my walls decided to deteriorate like my sense of judgement; can't really be more than a week old.

"Define well." My fingers interlace and I cross my legs.

"You left on good terms."

"That's an obtuse definition."

"On purpose, for your sake, of course."

"She wanted to kiss me." The bed squeaks beneath me as I sit up with my words.

"And you didn't want to kiss her back?" Sebastian slouches against the doorframe.

"I thought it more prudent not to."

Instead of questioning me on why he simply sighs and whispers lowly, "keep it half a shadow."

I don't understand what he means but I don't have time to question him before the door slams open and shut and he runs to greet my father. Back from his trip I suppose. In a few hours mother will be home from playing poker with friends. They used to take us kids along with them, a collective play date. Surprisingly it was mother who decided that it might not be the best thing for our development. She came to that conclusion sharply, after I refused to play with anyone and always stood by her side as they played. Every game I was present for she always seemed to lose. I don't know why, she had an excellent poker face. Even when her cards were awful she showed no indication. I, on the other hand, would outright panic.

"EGBERT!" The yell reverberates through me and with a jolt I'm standing up. No, I'm in his study. I guess I used a little too much force.

Behind the ivory desk sits my father, as calm as day, but with night behind his eyes. I don't wait for an invitation to sit and settle myself into the chair, crossing my legs regally, or so I believe. If I'm radiating the awkwardness I actually feel, he's ignoring it. A small kindness given his next words.

"I'm rescinding our agreement. You'll no longer have a few months to stay here. You'll be leaving at the end of the week to attend St. Ambrogio's."

"Father!" The chair creaks beneath the weight of my lunge up and the desk outright screams at the slap of my hands.

"This is non-negotiable, son. The situation at hand has changed." His left hand rests on the arm of the chair while the other curls into a fist just short of his chin. It's his 'test me, I dare you' pose. The addition of the word 'son' was not a term of endearment. It's a reminder of who I am to him, exactly just how much he owns me. I'm leaving at the end of this week and that's non-negotiable. A bitterness wraps around me as I realise just how screwed I am. My life here was going somewhere. If I'd had that year I could have wrapped it up nicely, said all my goodbyes and prolonged my bittersweet farewell with Scarlett. Perhaps we wouldn't have had to say a complete goodbye; she might have liked me enough to stay in contact with me like Vikram probably will. But, if had those months... I was going to be good. Be a good vampire. Feed without a trail of bodies. Maybe use my powers for the betterment of mankind. The likes of which they'd never seen. And maybe they wouldn't have had to send me to St. Ambrogio's. Maybe... "A man of his word. That's what I always thought you were. And you gave me your word. Keep it father, please let me stay."

For a moment I swear he's contemplating it. Behind those steely eyes is a flit of sympathy- I think- but only for a moment before they fortify once more. "I never gave you my word." He lifts himself gracefully tightening his cufflinks as he does, while I sink back down into my chair and despair. It takes the slow steps from behind the desk to the archway leading into the garden behind me for my thoughts to reassemble and a single question comes to mind. "Why now?" I whisper, it won't come out any louder.