Evaline | L. Lioncourt ✔

[11] Redemption

Ever since Lestat's threat at the tavern, Rob had turned somewhat bitter towards Evaline. Yet he could not take his anger out on her for each time he attempted to do so, he would feel as if he was being watched closely by a certain set of grey eyes, forbidding him to dare step that line.

He had once or twice seen that mysterious gentleman lurking in the tavern but he could not get rid of his uncanny presence from his mind, almost as if he had the sinister ability to invade his thoughts and sense his actions beforehand.

The other visitors at the tavern steered clear of Lestat as well and though he was not a frequent visitor, his rare presence would cause just as much of an uproar as if he was some sort of ghost, threatening to haunt the place.

Almost a week had passed yet Evaline could not get the time to pay Lestat a visit. The only assurance she had was by sometimes spotting him in the tavern at which he would shortly disappear after a brief nod or an acknowledging glance.

Her friend Theresa had been ever curious about him yet she refrained from telling her anything more than it was necessary, knowing full well that the truth of his identity was a secret he had shared only with her and she dared not break his trust.

Night was yet to fall when she finally got the opportunity to leave the tavern in order to go to the desolate ruin. She had been through that deserted passage so often that by then she was certain she could find her way to the mansion even if she was blindfolded.

But when she reached there, the corroded iron gate was jammed shut and no matter how hard she pushed, it did not budge from its place. Surprise crossed her features as she cautiously stepped through the nettles, looking for another way of entry when a pleasant familiar voice sounded behind her.

"Evaline?"

She turned to see Lestat standing there, clad in a knee length jacket that hid the frilled shirt from view. A cordial smile played upon his lips and he extended his arm for her to take.

She accepted the gesture, placing her hand on the juncture between his upper and fore arm, "Monsieur Lestat, why is this door jammed?"

"Let us just say that I had been looking for a better accommodation," he replied lightly, leading her away from the mansion, "in the past few days, I have managed to reclaim my property in this city therefore I have no need to take refuge in here."

His statement came out a bit surprising to her, "your property?"

"Yes chérie. The property I owned before all these terrors befell me. Come, I shall show you."

The two walked down the same street he had pointed out earlier back when he was taking her to the tavern, and she realized that he had been referring to the house that was the seventh from the side of the street they had walked in and the fourth from the other side.

His home.

"It was a bit tricky to obtain it," he remarked as he twisted the key that he had taken out from his pocket, turning it in the lock, "but the tavern is a remarkable place for forming connections. With the right people at one's side, it was no longer difficult to reclaim this house."

The door opened and he gestured her to step inside first. 

"Have you been living here since then?"

"No, not yet," he replied as he closed the door, "I had to ensure it was restored to its former condition first. In fact, this is my first time stepping inside as well."

It seemed as if the house had been restored to its former condition as his grey eyes took in each detail with a lingering sadness haunting on his pale features. He showed her around the place with a mixture of sorrow and nostalgia in his demeanor, though he passed straight past the room that used to be Claudia's without even bothering to glance inside.