"I don't remember exactly when I fell in love with him. It was a delicate dance of disdain and obsession. One more man there to make me the proper socialite. I was taken from my family, from our farm, from all I knew and was expected to find security and be fulfilled with the life of a Duchess. I suppose a lesser woman would have found it a blessing, but I hated that life. And now yet another man was telling me how to live it." Franka walked to the bar she and Tybalt kept fully stocked. She poured herself a glass of a few shots of jack infused with blood. This retelling of her early life with the Duke was taking a toll on her, but Tybalt felt they needed their stories to be documented. So much time, so many adventures locked away in their minds needed to be recited and bound on paper.
The young author Tybalt had chosen sat patiently. He had no desire to ruin this opportunity by rushing the Duchess. He was well aware of Franka's shortening patience. Her tirades were legend among the staff. He was told she could be a very kind and gracious employer, but she held strong to the traditions, both of her kind and those of polite society. To cross her was to chance torture unimaginable in the feeble mind of a mortal. He was not a stupid man, so he sat patiently waiting for the lady to gather her thoughts.
He made note of the home she shared with Tybalt. It was large, but filled in every possible space with their collections. Reminders of their travels, their adventures, their lives long lost. The furnishing was a mix of modern convenience and old world history. He knew the table they sat at would easily pay his mortgage for at the next few months. And the 'dust collectors' as Tybalt had referred to them, Franka's little trinkets, would fetch him quite the king's ransom on the right market. But again, he was not a stupid man. He knew who he was dealing with and was being taken care of very well for his services, he had no intention of messing that up.
Ever poised and ready for a social call, Franka was dressed in a dark gown. He couldn't quite decide on its color, the candle light Franka preferred to use in place of electricity played on the shading. She was adorned in jewels of a matching tone and her hair was pulled up high on her crown, showing off the hints of olive skin that was once her mortal tone. There was no doubt to him that she was a woman who paid attention to detail.
"He was there to teach me of art" she began again, noticing the authors gaze trailing over her, as if she were a piece of the art she worked with. She drew her dark painted lips back in a rare smile and continued. "At the time I had little care for it. Knowing the hard life of a farmer I had little need for trivial things my husband and his friends surrounded themselves with. I would walk the halls of our estate and imagine that my entire village could be housed there. I tried several times to bring my family to live with us, but my father was proud of his home and I had been sold to the Duke to secure that he always would have his land to work. But I am drifting, I apologize. Adriano had been brought to the estate to educate me. He was also to become a confidant and friend. My husband had little desire to entertain me. I was as is it is called now, arm candy. Adriano opened my world to appreciation for something I had once hated. He taught me to paint, to sculpt, to feel the emotion pouring out of a piece of wood before it was carved. He often told me that the medium would speak to me when I was ready. It would tell me what it wanted to become. I'd laughed at him the first time. Told him he had been touched by an enchantment. Little did I know."
"As we grew closer he began taking me out. We saw Operas and plays, always having the best seats and several servants scurrying around to be sure we had all we desired. Adriano loved it, the physical art of the stage, almost as much as he loved his own creations. I began regarding him in a new light. My husband's ignorance drawing on my needs to learn and grow, only further pushed Adriano and I together. Art was not his only area of expertise. He began to teach me how to run the estate. To take pride in being the mistress of the home. The balls I once detested attending were suddenly something I took great pleasure in. I began making my own political contacts. Began hosting my own dinner parties, inviting the highest members of the areas society. Adriano knew his place and would back out quietly, allowing my husband to be at my side. It became a game to us."
"I was innocent the first time he took me. My husband never once tried to consummate our marriage. Adriano was teaching me to weave, reaching over me, taking my hand to guide the thin threads. Maybe that was it, maybe that was the magical time that I fell in love. That I learned what it was to love another outside of the familial realm. It was a beautiful night. I felt like I had been snapped awake from a dream. Here was the man I should be with. This was what a relationship should be, not the business contract that was my marriage. " She paused again, sipping her drink."I think that will be all for tonight, the next chapter will bring you more enlightenment to my rise of power, but also one of my greatest losses. I'm not ready to go to that place quite yet."
"I understand my lady, thank you for your time. I will gather my things and see my way out." The author was disappointed. He'd been hoping to at least get to the time of her embrace on this night. But he knew there was some darkness lurking in those specific memories and he knew better than to push her. They'd get there eventually and he had nothing but time. The salary Tybalt was providing him allowed him to quit his job at the local paper and still live much above the means he'd become accustomed to. The longer it took dear Franka to retell her history, the more he benefited. He gathered his papers and pens, as nothing was allowed to be digitally recorded and went to the hall where Renard was always waiting at the end of a session.
"Another good bit of work done I presume?" Renard asked as the author handed over the supplies.
"Slow, yet detailed as always, I am sure our employer will be satisfied. I'll return at the assigned time next week. Have a lovely evening Renard." The author took his coat out of the butler's other hand and saw his way to his car. He was still amazed at the opportunity given to him, but also very aware of the lengths both Tybalt and Franka would go to to keep their secrets. He kept nothing of his work on his person, it was turned over to Renard to look after, he was allowed to speak to no one and could not even turn down the long entrance to the estate if anyone were on the street or another car was passing him. Very strict rules and security for a book that would never leave their personal library, but again, he was not a stupid man and he was greatly enjoying the gifts his employer bestowed him.
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