Scented sincerity [Gavin and Nora]

Gone? Alina Petrova wouldn’t – no, simply couldn’t have left Ilomar, not like this, not without telling Nora. She had not believed it yesterday, when Nitrius, Nitrius, had told the congregation, and she refused to believe it still; spending her afternoon recreation hour pacing the perimeter of the Monastery gardens. Accompanied by the soft crunch of gravel beneath her feet, chirping birds and distant voices, this was the closest thing to solitude Nora had ever known. As spring was evolving into summer, the buzz of insects grew in volume; especially near the flowerbeds, where the tender sweetness of the lilac attracted a flutter of butterflies, and the peonies; white with the crimson edge as if someone had dipped each one carefully in wine, or blood, bloomed with an aching beauty. It was where she usually came to find comfort. To pray. And at first, that was what she had been doing. Clutching the prism, hanging from a thin chain around her neck, so tightly it left a dent in her palm. In this moment of faltering, she needed guidance. Why was it so hard for her to accept the truth? Alina had left her, had left them all. Failed to fill her role as heir to the high priest. And yet… It made no sense. The Alina she thought she had known would not choose solitude, would she? Had it been anyone but the high priest to utter such claims, she would have deemed them lies. But the high priest spoke with the voice and blessing of Iosta, and all Nora could do was pray that her doubts might vanish.

What about me? Had been the first silent words of treachery coming to her mind when she had heard the news. And throughout her day they had stayed present in the back of her head, free to do so because no one acknowledged her. They had made her go to bed and sleep as if nothing was amiss, wake up and go on with her life, just like that. No one had told her what to do or how to act now that she had been abandoned for the second time of her life. She would not call it unfair, for Iosta took great care when making plans and it would never be her fault if Nora failed to see her reasons. For the first time since she had been told she was special, chosen by Iosta, she felt lonely. Lonely, and cold, for the birdsong and lively sunlight could not keep her from trembling. Perhaps she would have cried, let herself break down and relish in despair, but the crunch of steps approaching told her to snap out of it. Instead she turned around. The prism fell back against her chest with a soft thud as she let go, her eyes widened in slight surprise. Striding up the garden path towards her, possibly the last person she might have expected was, ”Gavin?

Stepping into the gardens of the monastery was like stepping into a painting.  The air scented with the flowers of spring. The sun peaked from the clouded sky, sending streams of sunlight on the garden and him, as if to surround him in some spotlight. Whispers of his name accompanied him as Gavin walked down the gravel path of the gardens. He sent them a kind smile and they greeted him, now with more respect than they ever had before. Earlier that day Gavin had been announced the new heir after the unfortunate sudden departure of Alina. Such a sad thing indeed, he had said to others whenever anyone wanted to talk. Though, unlike them, Gavin knew the truth. He knew Alina had been murdered, dead and truly gone, departed in a way different to what everyone else thought Gavin couldn’t care less about Alina and her departure from this world, except it had given him the opportunity to gain more. More of what? prestige, power, the adoration of the masses amongst other things.

Now the reason as to why Gavin was walking in the gardens was to see if he could find none other than the person who stood Alina the nearest, Nora. Though Gavin had a feeling Alina treated her more like a follower or servant. He put on a kind smile, a smile he had to practice in the mirror when he was a kid, a smile he now could effortlessly fake. He spotted her quickly, the young blonde thing. He could see it on her shocked expression she had not expected him to seek her out.

“Hi Nora, just wanted to see how you are doing” Gavin started, his voice soft and kind, at least he made it sound as such, not that he actually cared how she was doing. “You know, with all that has happened these last two days” He continued as he stopped next to her with an appropriate distance between them. The spot was secluded enough to give them the illusion of privacy, but Gavin knew that the other priests would see them. See him be kind to the girl who most likely was the most affected by the departure of his predecessor, could see him be caring and who knows? maybe Nora could turn out to be useful to him too.

Was this mockery or kindness? Nora did not know. Perhaps Iosta simply wished to flaunt Alina’s departure in her face, perhaps it was a sort of consolation. But here was Gavin, the newly anointed heir, striding towards her, smiling. As if there was anything to smile about. The one she gave in return was strained. Without knowing who she had wanted to see, she knew it had not been Gavin. He had never wasted much attention on her, and she did not understand why he would begin now. If he was trying to replace Alina… Well, that was impossible. Or perhaps he simply cared? Iosta had chosen him, she reminded herself, and he did speak with sincerity. If this was the attention she could get, she was glad to take it.

He wanted to see how she was doing? She crossed her arms protectively in front of her chest, a foolish attempt to keep her pain in check. “It is very kind of you to ask,” She said, looking up at the man who had stopped in front of her. A lot had happened, he was right. As he stood there, haloed by sunlight that rendered his hair golden and enhanced his already sharp features, she almost understood why he was considered attractive. Dormitories were nothing if not great places for gossip. And the rules of the church did not deter conversations about Iosta’s servants. As if they did not have enough in Iosta herself. She shook her head, her smile turning sad;  “It has been rough.” Uncrossing one arm she gestured to the garden,  “The ways of Iosta are inscrutable. Congratulations on your–” She trailed off, promotion? New title? And then, because she could not help it after all, a single tear escaped her, and she turned away.

His face remained that perfect mask of fake sincerity and kindness. A slight practiced smile, kind and not condescending at the congratulations. “There is no need for that” he said, sounding more humble than he ever was.

“It isn’t easy when a close loved one leaves us out of the blue like that” He said as he looked out over the garden. His tone was understanding, despite him knowing that Alina didn’t just leave the monastery but this world too. After all, he knew somewhat of Nora’s pain, her grief. Gavin had tasted it before himself.

“I haven’t told many about this” Gavin started, sounding almost contemplating as if he was about to say something that was hard to speak about. “My younger brother ran away without a word all of a sudden when I was younger and he is still missing,” Gavin said, something vulnerable in his voice.

That sweet, vulnerable act of revealing something so deeply about himself, was all an act of course. Who knew that fact about him would be useful in this way? With this it would appear as if he understood her in a way perhaps no one else in this monastery will.

Nora wiped the tear from her eye, blinking back more, still with her back to the new heir. Iosta give me strength. A butterfly passed her, its orange wings edged in white spotted brown, and she followed it with her eyes as Gavin, with the humbleness required for the role, reclined her attempt at congratulations.

It isn’t easy when a close loved one leaves us out of the blue like that, he said. With a tone almost like he knew. The words made Nora turn her head back around to look at him. How she wanted someone, anyone to understand. To share her pain. She was not crazy for being upset, was she? Gavin continued, sounding like he was about to confess, and Nora’s curiosity triumphed over the potential tears. He had had a brother, lost him too, without a trace. Her initial response was a very quiet “Oh…” And she blinked, taken aback by the vulnerability of Gavin. She hadn’t known this and; “I am so sorry,” she said, and meant it, sorry to have judged him for approaching her. He really had just wanted to console her. “That must be awful for your family.” Without realising, she had once again clutched her pendant. At least Alina was safe, Gavin did not have the privilege of such knowledge. “How long ago was that?” She asked with caution, not sure he would want to talk about it, but being too curious about this sudden revelation of someone possibly sharing her pain.

He watched her, or more like watcher for her reaction and the way she turned her little blonde her to him, he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her to be. He smiled once again, a small, carefully calculated to be bittersweet, yet slightly sad. Showing that he was grateful for the apology he assumed to be about his loss.

“It will be 11 years ago this august” He said, still keeping that vulnerable aura about the conversation. “The reason I shared this is because sometimes there is value in knowing that someone might understand one's pain,” He continued on with a lie veiled as a truth. “I needed it then, so I thought I’d at least offer it to you now” He added. Sure he sounded empathetic, like he cared for her pain, but in reality he couldn’t care less. The only thing he cared about gaining from this conversation was the possibility of her usefulness to him.

He took a moment to look away from her, glancing at the growing flowers of the garden. Some of them he recognized from his mother’s garden from his childhood. He didn’t know what his mother’s garden looked like now, but certainly far from the well kept garden of the monastery. She could barely get out of bed and do the dishes after his father died.

He let the silence fall between them, letting her speak. This wasn’t meant to be a monologue of his, and it certainly would not be of harm in letting her think she was in charge of the conversation. He’d let her think he had shared a hidden vulnerability of his to offer aid to her pain, as if he cared when he did not. There were few things Gavin had cared about in his life and someone else’s well being and feelings was certainly not one of them.

He understood her pain. She believed him. The heaviness lifting from her heart had to be Iosta’s way of letting her know she could trust him. Someone cared. “Thank you,” she whispered, “Thank you so much,” and felt slightly guilty about her own grief; she couldn’t remember exactly how old Gavin was, but eleven years ago? He had been little more than a child. A child who had to deal with the pain and uncertainty all alone.

The pendant was warming to the touch of her skin, but she kept her left hand closed around it, letting it ground her. Stretching out her right hand, she ran it over the fragile petals of the peonies. It really does look like blood. Nothing, of course, came off when she lifted her hand away again. A bumblebee buzzed away, startled.

“I guess–” She began, slowly, “I just thought–” She kept her gaze fixed on the flowers. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t anybody tell me?” The desperation in her voice was increasing. Why hadn’t Iosta? She had been given no sign, no warning. She was special. Was she not? Iosta had chosen her. That was why she was here. Standing in the garden of the place where she belonged. Why then did she feel so helpless, so insignificant? “I'm sorry. You probably have a lot of other things on your mind right now. ”