Knead

Stampede // Alexander Jean ft. Lindsey Stirling

I was too late for more cake.  It was gone. Even the crumbs had been cleaned up and wiped away. The only thing left to do was stand in the shadows and watch the rest of the partiers as is my usual birthday custom. Ellete is certainly the belle of the ball, with all eyes on her. It is her coming of age party, after all, and for me it's just a regular birthday. I don't mind being forgotten about or ignored by these people. Their attention is filled with false accolades, unlike that of the people who mean more to me, the people of the village. To escape the confinement I find myself in, my mind does what it has been doing for more days than I can count: replaying every conversation and look I shared with Drue.

In some ways, thoughts of him are comforting. He was the first person I felt safe with, the first person I opened up to and talked about myself with. I never knew how much I needed that until he was gone.  And now the only person I find myself talking and sharing things with is Nicandros. I want to strangle myself for the things I have revealed to him. I don't understand how he's drawn it out of me with his surly disposition. Even Marget does not get me to reveal the emotion Nicandros has.

I'm still wearing my coat and my hands are in the pockets, fingering the little bird as thoughts of my last time with Drue begin to replay in my mind's eye. The contrast between Drue and Nicandros has never been so stark as when I picture the two of them in my kitchen, watching as I bake. How strange.

As I stand in the shadows, thinking my somber and confusing thoughts while watching the scene before me, I hear my father's voice. I turn to see him slouched on a chair in the corner of the room all alone. I make my way over to where he is. Father's head is bent down, and his shoulders slumped. It almost appears that he is sleeping.

I reach out my hand and touch his shoulder, "Father?" He startles at my touch.

"I never should have agreed." His words are mumbled and I'm not quite sure I understand.

"Agreed to what, Father? The party?" I sit on the arm of the chair and lean closer to him. I can smell the wine seeping from him. He's had too many glasses, to be sure. Something he never does. I wonder what made him do so tonight?

"I didn't know. I didn't think he would take her." His voice breaks as if he is crying.

My stomach lurches with apprehension. I'm not sure I want to know whom he is referring to, but my intuition tells me I do already. "Father..."

"He promised. Said the business would flourish. I only owed him a favor. Just one. But I didn't know. I didn't warn her..." Father begins to sob.

And I know he's speaking of my mother. Two words strike me like a blow, bringing with them sudden clarity and understanding. Promise and Favor. Those words have been spoken of often lately. They are common words, used by all in every circumstance. But these two words, having been used by three people in the context of baking, are like the strike of lightning to my soul.

The more prominent of the two words, favor, is the one causing my blood to run cold with fear. I look around the hall for signs of Nicandros. He left me sitting outside by the fountain but I haven't laid eyes on him since. His story of the woman baking bread, so similar to Drue's, seemed the more sinister of the two. Whereas Drue's tale told of a heartless and demanding ruler, Nicandros' story painted the woman as bitter and selfish. Drue's felt like a warning, Nicandros' felt like an excuse. Pair that with what Father just mumbled in his inebriated state, and I feel like I've been given the answer to a ten-years-long question. What happened to Mother? I don't know how, but I sense all of these things are related. The only person who may have more to tell me at the moment is the person I am seeking out now.

My eyes continue to scan the room but they come to rest on Ellete before I can find Nicandros. I rise from my spot next to Father and walk directly to her. She is happy and smiling, and completely oblivious to the revelation I've now made. Even though I wish I could tell her, explain every thought running through my mind, I can't. Not yet. Even I can hear how unstable it sounds. But she hasn't experienced what I have the last several weeks, so it will remain my little secret.

Ellete catches sight of me as I'm two steps away.

"Daralis! Isn't this the most wonderful party we've had yet? I'm having such a wonderful time! Did you enjoy the cake? I actually think it was better than last year's." Ellete is smiling and bouncing, surrounded by several guests that look to be our age. I don't have time to speak with them or learn their names. I need information quickly.

"Yes, everything is lovely, I must confess. You've outdone yourself. But have you seen Lord Nicandros?" I rush through my compliments and get to the issue at hand.

Her eyebrows furrow together. "I thought you hated him?"

"Of course I do." I don't want her thinking otherwise because it's true, for the most part. Except for when he looks like a lost little boy. But even then, yes I hate him. I think.

Ellete looks irritated, like she just doesn't have time to worry about me, and my apparent vendetta. "He went outside a while ago," she pauses and looks down at my clothing, "with your coat I believe." Her voice sounds confused. She's trying to work out in her mind why Nicandros would carry my coat, obviously having brought it to me. "I haven't seen him since."

"All right, very well." I turn and walk toward the solarium once again. Perhaps he remained in the garden rather than return to the party. It's quite a large garden so he could be taking it in.

I exit the house and walk back to the bench by the fountain. My eyes adjust to the darkness, only illuminated by the lights from the party and a partial moon. I stand up on the bench to see if the view gives me any hints into which direction he may have gone. Looking right and then left, over and above the many varieties of roses and mums, I can't see a thing to help me. So I stand very still and close my eyes. I listen, trying to block out the sounds from the party to concentrate on the sounds outside in the garden. After several quiet moments, I hear the sound of someone whistling,

It is like the call of a bird, which is ironic after everything that's become obvious to me in the last ten minutes. I listen again for the location of the sound and follow it to my left and through some hedges trimmed to create a spiral pathway. The whistle becomes louder as I walk, drawing me to the source on the other side of the path. Around the rose bushes and into the herb garden, I find him. He's standing among the rosemary. Without looking back at me, I hear him speak.

"You added rosemary to your bread. It's quite a strong herb, very distinct." How he knew it was me walking up behind him, I can't be sure. Now I'm more resolved than before. He's reminded me of the promise he made.

"You owe me a favor." I declare while still approaching him. This causes him to finally turn around and face me.

"So I do." The look on his face is amused. "And what would you now ask of me, the man you despise?"

"Tell me where my mother is."

His amusement is suddenly gone.

Thank you SO MUCH for reading! Yes, I will be posting tomorrow, Christmas Day, so see you tomorrow and Merry Christmas!