The Art Behind a Murder

Chapter Nine - Strange Affections

Sat back at home, I reflected upon the recent events. Since Lady Anastasia left, the rooms were quiet enough to ponder on the past forty-eight hours. This art book appeared to transform me into whoever I drew, and change me back when I touched a page.

What kind of black magic is this... I thought to myself.

Suddenly remembering how I found the book, I ran to my drawers and rummaged about to find the letter.

Whilst making a large mess on my already unorganised desk, Benjamin strode into the room and slumped himself onto the armchair.

"What game were you playing, Amélie?  Lady Anastasia was hysterical this morning and you were nowhere to be seen!"

I shrugged off his comment and grabbed the letter from under a pile of canvases. Under closer inspection, the wax seal appeared to have some kind of runic dialect scribed into it. The initials D.W still didn't ring any bells.

"I took a turn for the worse so I went out for some fresh air." I replied to him, with a small glance in his direction. "After all, I did go through quite an ordeal last night."

I've always hated lying to Benjamin. Not because I know he'll find out one day, but because he is so naïve that he'll believe anything. It must be so easy being as impressionable as him - never having to doubt what others say.

Benjamin stood up and slowly walked towards me, concerned for my wellbeing. Cupping my face with both hands, he looked down at me.

I flinched at such contact, as he had never made such a bold or informal gesture before. "I am alright now, Benja-"

He interrupted me and moved one of his hands to my waist. "You must take better care of yourself..." His voice was barely a whisper. His eyes lingered over my body before flicking back up to mine.

Don't get me wrong, Benjamin is one of my closest friends - with emphasis on friend - but when his face loomed so close to mine, I couldn't help but feel the discomfort pulsating through my skin. He knows that I have no interest in gentlemen - let alone him - so I was rather baffled when he showed more than brotherly affection towards me. Sometimes I sense that he does not see my sexuality as a real thing - just confusion or the product of the trauma I went through as a child. When men belittle my affections towards women like that, it does nothing in their favour. I believe this is the only subject that he cannot be educated or easily influenced by.

I moved away from him, avoiding eye contact. "Please believe me when I say I am alright. Now if you wouldn't mind, I need to prepare myself for when I visit Miss Eliza."

"Oh, we're on first name basis now, are we?" His words were said with the intent to offend, but he delivered them so timidly that all I could do was chuckle. I now knew what had triggered his overly-affectionate behaviour. I had been seen with a handsome gentleman last night and delivered back by a lovely woman - he's simply being jealous because I've been socialising with people superior to him (something I don't do often).

"Come along, now. I must get ready."

He shook his head with annoyance as he walked out, freeing the room and atmosphere from tension.

At last... I can do what is needed to be done.