The Vigil at the Manor (Part 2/7)

Mister Meadows finds a clue that reveals more than it should. Part 2 of a seven-part short story in the Distant Stars mosaic novel.

The vigil at the Manor is a seven-part science fiction story and one of the stories in the Distant Stars mosaic novel. A new part will be released every Saturday.

A mosaic novel is made up of interconnected short stories. Head on over to the Distant Stars story index to read the other stories.

Read Part 1

In the morning, when the manor was still quiet and Lord Luxor had left for the capital on his flitter, Meadows finally found the courage to hand what he found to Miss Brahms.

She looked at it as if it was a dangerous thing. But eventually, she took it gingerly from him. The blade was still covered in rusty brown blood.

“I found it in a corner of the bathroom. It had fallen at the edge of the wall. It was difficult to make out from the floor. I suppose that's why people didn't notice it.”

Miss Brahms continued to stare quietly at the blade.

“He doesn’t have influenza, does he?”

She shook her head slowly.

“He tried to kill himself, didn’t he?”

She looked up slowly. But her eyes already told him what he needed to know.

“I see.” He tried to digest the truth of it all. He felt … God, he felt everything. Sadness, guilt, worry, confusion. He couldn’t make sense of it all.

“Could I see him?”

She looked confused by his request. “He’s sleeping right now.”

“All the better.”

She gave him another puzzled look.

“I know that Mister Bron is a private person. He probably wouldn't want me to see him the way he is right now. But I'd like to see him. Just to reassure myself that he's still around. Just to see that he’s all right.”

She smiled at that.

“Oh, Mister Meadows. You are always so kind.”

“And so are you,” he said, almost on reflex, and blushed.

She gave him another shy smile.

When they finally entered the room, Meadows could only stare at the figure lying on the bed covered by several blankets. Mister Bron was indeed, still sleeping. His quiet breaths was the only sound in the room.

But he looked so pale. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that he was looking at a corpse.

“Are you all right, Mister Meadows?”

“No, no. I'm all right,” he said quickly. “It’s just that. It’s just that he's so pale. I didn’t know anyone can be that pale and still be alive.” And then he blanched, realising what he had just said.

“I’m sorry, that was—”

Miss Brahms lay a gentle hand on his.

“I understand. He’s much better now. Much better.”

For a long while, they both stared at Mister Bron, who breathed and breathed but did not move an inch.

He looked down at his hands, imagining Mister Bron’s hands all bloodied and cut up, and he couldn't. He swallowed.

“I'm glad that he’s all right. Really glad,” he said quietly.

“It was a near thing,” she said in a tremulous voice. “It was a very near thing indeed.”

Then a thought struck him.

“You were the one who found him, weren’t you?

She nodded. “And Aiman,” she said. “And we wouldn’t have found him if it weren’t for you.”

“Me? What did I have to do with it?”

“When you mentioned what Mister Bron said to you — that he hoped that you would make a better life for yourself than he ever did.”

“Oh that? When you left me that day, it did puzzle me why you were so alarmed over that, but I never would have imagined,” he shook his head. “I never would have thought… But you did. How did you know?”

She shrugged. “Before I left to join you, I saw him and he had the strangest look in his eyes … I didn’t know why it had disturbed me so. But after what you said. It was an instinct I couldn’t ignore.”

“And it was good that you didn’t. When I came home, I saw Doctor Farrow, which I thought was odd. But you said that he was sick with the flu.” There was an unspoken question in his statement.

“Lord Luxor wanted to keep it quiet for his sake,” she explained.

He nodded again, understanding why it wouldn't do for people to find out. In a way, it was kind of Lord Luxor to not make a fuss. Other masters would have tossed Mister Bron out for being "difficult" or "taking too many resources". And then there were the ones who lived by the Silence. You'd think that people with their lot in life would've been kind to each other, but most took any chance to escape the quiet and peaceful life they had, to battle it out in the shiny skyscrapers of Mantora Corporation.

And schemes that were the last thing Mr Barrow needed now. And if it went out that he had cut his wrists, there goes his chances of finding another position. It was difficult enough as it was for Mr. Bron now. It would have been impossible if word got out.

"Why did he do it?" the words came out before he could stop himself.

Miss Brahms paled and looked away. But then she looked at him, her green eyes a deep pool simmering with tears. "Do you remember the last time you spoke to him? What he said to you?"

And it struck him then what could have caused this turn of events.

"It was my fault, wasn't it, Miss Brahms? It was my fault that he tried to kill himself."

Go to Part 3

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Look out for Part 3 of 7 next Saturday!

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash. Read my policy on using AI images.

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