Chapter 13: Bridges [Part 1]

'Romulus!' A soft delicate voice called out to him.

Stirring to his senses, he inspected his surroundings. Long extended weeds towered over him and the sky was as blue as the sea. The clouds sailed lazily and the wind blew a gentle breeze cooling the midday heat. With eyes half open, he traced the source of the soothing call to the little hut about twenty metres away. Peculiar fellow he was, never wanting to be under any shelter.

'Lunch is almost ready, will you not come back?'

'I was on my way, actually.'

'Obviously you were.'

'Was just taking a break.'

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

Back at the mansion, a soft melody bounced from wall to wall. It rang clearly and familiarly like a church bell. The young man played the piano with his eyes shut. His heart clearly beating in time to the music and his body swaying as if possessed by the tune itself. Disapproving eyes, however, pierced his back like knives. A greying gent stared on with a slight frown. Though clearly more talented than his brother, he never took well to the business trips and meetings. A slight yawn, and a simple 'What a bother' said with such a burdened monotony that it often ignited the rage and frustration of the gent. 'I must have let down Ethan', he often thought to himself.

Bursting through the large doors of the mansion, their hurried footsteps announced their timely arrival for lunch. Walking through the halls, Romulus simply couldn't help but appreciate the paintings that adorned the woodern walls that led to the dining room. Passing the big chandelier that lit up the stairwell above the walkway, Romulus paused and stared deeply at a certain painting. It was a rather simple painting of two medieval knights engaging in a fierce fight. Strangely, though they were the only ones locked in the contest, the fields on which they stood were heavily stained with blood. Romulus never understood why. He often wondered aloud, as to who the victor was.

At the dinner table, everyone was getting settled. Napkins folded neatly and placed on their laps, hands already washed and dried and utensils neatly arranged. They sat facing each other at the large oak table capable of hosting up to 20 guests. Just as the food was about to be served, the pianist looked in the direction of the fair lady sitting diagonally across him. His heart must have skipped a beat when her gaze met his! Fingers anxiously tapping on his thighs, and clear attempts at steadying his breathing, it was tough trying to act calm. At last the food came, and he gobbled it down absentmindedly.

'I must be insane.' He thought to himself as he nearly choked on the baked potatoes.

'I think so too.' Another generated thought sailed through the air during their silent meal.