The Bitter Taste

Chapter 45: Sense of Humor

If there was anything the Earl had learnt from climbing all the way up to Jane's room like a brave prince, it gave scars - literally and figuratively. A mere five seconds after he blurted out a totally unromantic 'I love you', he found himself staring at a woman whose face looked like she had just seen a ghost. Her eyes looked so glassy and frozen that it almost seemed as if he had just confessed in front of a ceramic, china doll. Needless to say, he hated the reaction, but more than that, he hated himself. Thus, he left.

And now, because his arse couldn't bother getting up the second he left the manor, he sat down pitifully at the edge of the road like a man without a sense of dignity. How far has he come since meeting Jane? If he could answer, he'd say he's come a long way. From being once a man with the highest form of pride... to one with little to none; something he's lived with all his life disappeared in mere minutes.

"Hey, need a ride ol' lad?"

As the Earl spread out his legs in front of him, watching as the swift leaves passed by, he had been unconscious of an approaching vehicle that now appeared before him. It was one owned by a ragged looking old man with a wheat-sewed hat over his head. A strand of wheat was also resting at the corner of his mouth lazily, worn just like those stranded people you'd meet along adventures and such.

"And who are you?" The Earl asked, standing up from the ground.

"Well, in a situation like this, would it matter?" He replied, cackling. "You seem lost. I am a mere helper during these kinds of predicaments, and I've been to places that fingers can't count."

"Well, then, how will you prove to me that you won't try to sedate me mid-journey?"

"You seem oddly choosy for a man wearing only an underwear and robe." He said, raising a brow. "If this ol' lad won't accept my offer, then I reckon that I have no purpose in staying." The old man said, raising his wrists up a bit as he was about to whip his horses into moving forward.

"Wait!" He exclaimed. "I-I apologize. Do you mind lending me a ride back to london?"

"London? A common place for a common person I suppose!" the old man said, laughing some more. The Earl came stepping inside the extremely narrow vehicle. Could one even call this a carriage?

"So boy, what are you up to?" He said, trying to make conversation. At first, the Earl hardly wanted to entertain such attempts, deeming it utterly useless and foolish, but he later on decided that intentionally ignoring the old man's question was just as bad.

"returning home..." The Earl said.

"Home? to your parents?" Asked the old man.

"Uh... no." The Earl kept quiet, not really wanting to expand on his background.

"Oh I see, sorry lad, didn't mean to bring it up."

"Wait- what?"

"They're dead aren't they. So you're living with foster parents in a foster home now."

"Look, don't get my story confused with yours." Said the Earl, starting to sound rather irritated with the stranger's prying assumptions.

However, the old man merely smirked and glance at him for a split second with a glint present in his eyes. "Well then, I suppose it's only right that you actually tell me your story."

The Earl remained quiet, staring at the seat that the old man sat on. The stranger was beginning to get even more creepy at each passing second, and the way he fitted his words together basically spelled suspicious.

"What exactly is it that you want from me old man? Look, I don't have cash right now, but if I get home safely then I'd -"

"It's pretty lonely out here for a wanderer like me." He cut him off, sparing him a smile from in front. "All I want is some fruitful company from a fruitful person. I know I may seem rather odd at first glance, but that's all that everybody ever does - judge before knowing. You probably thought I was some mugger, didn't you? Well, I can't blame anyone. I haven't bathed for a week," he said, "But I assure you, I am just as human as you are."