-4-
Saul is standing in front of the house when we walk up the path to the side entrance. His strong hands are handling a knife he’s using to cut a new arrow shaft. He’s not looking at us, but my heart starts beating faster when we approach. I can sense his eyes on us somehow. He knows we’re there.
Just as we are about to step onto the terrace next to the manor, he takes a deep breath. “Hold it,” he says quietly.
I stop in my tracks. Mara glances sideways and the blood drains from her face when Saul turns around and puts his knife away. His dark eyes, dark hair and dark clothes look like a stain of ink against the backdrop of the white manor wall.
We stand there, like a pair of deer waiting for the wild hound to pounce. Trapped in Saul’s black stare. One corner of his mouth curls up in a smile.
“You should probably make yourself useful,” he tells Mara, still in a voice so quiet it is almost drowned out by the blood pounding in my ears.
“Use… useful?” she chokes.
“More useful than you were to my brother,” he explains, that creepy smile still lingering on his face. “If you can’t perform a woman’s most important duty, maybe you should just stick to other tasks like doing the laundry. I happen to know there’s a whole lot to be done. I expect it to be clean by tonight.”
“Okay,” Mara whispers, staring at her feet. “I’ll get to it.”
“You do that.” Saul’s gaze swerves to me. I wish I could stare at my feet too, but a belligerent part of me makes me meet his eyes without flinching. From the corner of my eye, I see Mara walking away. I’m left to my own devices.
“Leia.” Saul fixes me with his stare. “You look a bit pale. Anything wrong?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He shakes his head incredulously. “Didn’t it upset you to see your mother?”
He saw us? I gasp for breath.
“Why would it?” I snap.
He takes a step forward, coming so close I can smell his breath. “Why did she come here?” he whispers.
I don’t think it was because she wanted me to know father had died. Maybe she just wanted to see me. I’m a part of him that she misses.
“To deliver a newsletter, I suppose,” I mumble, feeling increasingly alarmed by his proximity.
He lets out a little laugh. “Oh, yes. The news. In the last newsletter, I read your father passed away.”
The bile in his voice gets to me. All of a sudden, I blink back a few tears.
“Oh, sorry, how insensitive of me,” Saul continues. “Weren’t you the one looking forward to seeing him again after your time here?”
“No. That was Colin.” My voice comes out strangled.
He keeps quiet, still not moving away from me. When he finally speaks, I wish I’d stepped backward myself.
“Your father was never there for you, and now he never will be. Don’t forget that.” He looks intently at my eyes and scoffs. “You’re not going to cry for him, are you?”
I shake my head. “No,” I whisper carefully, afraid my voice will break.
“Good. Now go and help your brother in the kitchen. Maybe he will cry when he hears the news. Send him my best.”
His footsteps move away from me, and despite the hot summer sun, I shiver in my still damp clothes. I don’t look up anymore to meet his eyes as I hurry to the kitchen.