This inspired a On the Other Side of the Mask freebie story so huge I broke it into segments. This is the third and final part...
Lord Ruthvyn made a curt nod to a young gentleman with strawberry-blonde curls standing nearby, dressed in a purple velvet, a porcelain tragedy mask with ribbons concealing his face. No, it wasn’t a gentleman, at least not a lord. It was only Nathaniel, grabbing his arm, pulling Byron to his feet like he had so many times. This time, he led his young charge away from his lord, the party, and the garden, guiding him in the direction of the manor.
Was Olympia somewhere in the party, wearing a comedy mask in contast with Nathaniel’s tragedy? Byron fought the urge to laugh.
“None of that!” Nathaniel hissed, pinching his arm not nearly as hard as he could have. “You’ve already been insolent to the point of madness, not that you haven’t tried anything particularly special.” He gave Byron a little shake. “Do you think you’re the first to try to win our lord over with carnal affections? Seducing him is deadly, you little fool.”
“Lord Ruthvyn wants me to seduce him.” Byron allowed his tongue to be bold and reckless. Why not? “He wants to be seduced with songs, to suck the warmth and life right out of me.”
“Try that again and he’ll do it with such speed you won’t have a chance to fight back. You’ll be left a bloodless corpse, an ice sculpture, or worse.” Nathaniel shook him again. “What will become of Shelley if you allow yourself to be consumed in such a fashion?”
Genuine concern flickered in Nathaniel’s words, accompanied by a familar warmth, a memory of aquamarine eyes filled with yearning set in a heart-shaped face, surrounded by strawberry blonde curls. Byron wasn’t sure if Nathaniel was sending him the images through his fingers or it was simply his own yearning for Shelley conjuring him up. Whichever it was, he grabbed his captor, forcing him to stop and face him.
“You’ve seen him.” Byron looked into the slits of the servant’s mask, trying to read anything he could of his expression. “Why do you care what becomes of Shelley? Or me for that matter?”
“I shouldn’t care. It’s dangerous to care.” Nathaniel shook his head, the ribbons around his mask swaying. “Your emotions have a heat which draws everything on this estate close to you, in spite of the danger.”
“How is he?” Byron let the question escape him, filled with all the yearning he tried to conceal, but how could he? The other half of his soul had been taken from him.
“Yearning for you as much as you yearn for him. Seeking the humanity in myself, Olympia, and our lord, no matter how foolish it might be.” Nathaniel turned towards the estate, the upper levels. Was he looking at a particular light in a window. “He has a kind heart, your Shelley. Kindness is…unusual.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Dared he to hope that it might be Shelley’s window? “We are as kind as we choose to be.”
“Now you sound like him.” Nathaniel claimed his arm and began leading Byron back to the estate. “Don’t let yourselves become too alike just because you miss each other. Our lord might decide he no longer wants both of you.” Nathaniel drew a long, shuddering breath. “One of you will disappear if he does.”
Byron resisted the urge to swallow, to shudder at these words. He wouldn’t show fear. He wouldn’t show weakness. Not in front of Lord Ruthvyn or his servants. No matter how frightened he truly was.
It was only a matter of time before both Shelley and himself disappeared. He sensed this as keenly as he sensed the concern flickering in Nathaniel, a concern he wasn’t sure if Olympia possessed.
Don’t be too alike. Perhaps Nathaniel had learned this the hard way.
Byron felt the chill left behind in his mouth by Lord Ruthvyn’s cold kiss. He wondered if it would ever leave him. If his mouth and throat would ever be warm again.
Perhaps not.
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