Destroying A Legacy

Chapter Nineteen: Lafew

Viola's house was nice, of course.

On the inside, it was even better than the modest but wealthy outside. Decorated mostly in white and silver, there were modern pieces of furniture and pieces that looked as if they were from some famous designer or other. Just Lafew's room, the guest room, had a sleek and moder white tabletop with a lamp shaped like a rat on it.

"Did you know what Ralph told me about Parizad?" Viola exclaimed one day as she opened the door. Lafew, who was sleeping in a shirt and a pair of boxer briefs, tried to cover himself, but then was reminded that he didn't really care whether Viola saw him. And, knowing that he was gay, she might feel the same way.

"What happened to privacy?" he asked anyway, for good measure.

Viola pushed a tray full of food on Lafew's bed. "Apparently, Parizad seems to be in love with your bodyguard."

Lafew thought about it for a while. "I don't have a bodyguard."

"Eri Sorolla. The one who was staying at school for you. Do you remember the one? Young, pretty, strawberry blond hair?"

Lafew nodded. "I wouldn't have seen it coming." The truth was that he hadn't paid much attention to either of them, though Parizad had always been a friend.

"You do know," he added, as he helped himself to porridge. "That I can't return the invitation, right? The Ettings would never have you stay over."

"It's fine," Viola shrugged. "I already asked Bardolph to stay plenty of times, and he kept saying no. He's totally proud, sometimes. In a stupid kind of way. He told me that he didn't want me to do him a favour he couldn't pay back. I didn't know what he meant, but once I met his father... did you ever meet him, Lafew?"

Lafew shook his head. He knew bits of pieces of Ralph' father's issues with the law, sure, but he couldn't say he ever met the man, not even seen him from afar.

"Well, I'll tell you. He doesn't look like Ralph at all. He's thin, not muscly, and he has a receding hair line. He smells of booze."

"I know one or two things about fathers like that," Lafew smirked. But then it felt as if he was betraying his real father, Philip Merman, and the thought of his biological parent brought back terrible memories and a sense of confusion. Lafew had always admired Philip, he'd always been ready to declare himself in awe of his dead parents and ready to avenge them. And he couldn't fault Philip for the recklessness he, himself, had inherited. Still, seeing those visions of his parents' past made him question everything he thought he knew.

"Today we're going back to Thyssen," Viola exhaled, putting down the tray. "It's a long way from here. We will take the plane. Though I don't have a private jet like Tranio does."

Lafew nudged her. "Nobody is rich like Tranio Fair," he said bitterly. "No one in the world."

He passed it off as a joke, and it was, but that the Fairs were amongst the richest people in the Noblesse was a certain truth. Viola laughed and showed Lafew a silver dress she was wearing.

"What do you think?"

"That you're always awfully early. I'm still in my pajamas. And that silver seems more like your mother's colour than yours."

Viola's eyes darkened. "She picked it out for me. I don't... I don't usually wear what she tells me to, of course. But I know she wishes I was prettier."

Lafew stole one look at Viola. It was hard to see why her mother felt like that. Viola's hair was tied up in buns, and she had curly bangs on her face that gave her face a mischievous air. Lafew, for one, thought she looked good.